jhalawar, part 1

though we've avoided setting a schedule, when mev and looked at the calendar last week, we realized the trip was winding down and some decisions had to be made. in the 2 months prior to my arrival, mev had had some mind-blowing experiences. as we compared notes, we found that the happiest and most memorable times had been interacting with the indian people (see last entry). we chafed at the tourist spots, as tourists attract "touts", or men hawking items. [i'm not judging these people, its just circumstances. if the situation was reversed, i'd be getting every rupee i could off tourists].

given that, we flirted with scrapping the taj mahal and go "off the lonely planet (LP)" ... the taj mahal is one of the seven wonders of the world, its also the biggest tourist attraction in india. its city, agra, is not especially nice, so it'd take 2-3 days to see the taj. LP is what travellers use to map things out. its like a safety net. new places are disorienting enough, but if you can name a hotel , know its a decent spot, and have a rickshaw driver take you there, you have you bearings and thats half-way to figuring the place out (as a tourists, anyway).

this was a tough decision esp for a pampered wimp like myself. i like patterns, i like hot showers, i like some structure. mev was all for it, but she's a more robust traveller than myself. and, dare i say, tougher than her brother. at least when it comes to this, i could still bench, like, 4 times more than her :)

the wheels were in motion and we came to the town of kota 2 days ago as its a stop on the delhi-mumbai main rail line. also, it had multiple highways connecting it to other cities. after getting to kota and looking around, we realized kota was an industrial town with very little to offer. the decision was made, we were definitely doing it. over a few south african beers, which, after hanging out in holy towns that ban alcohol, tasted as good as any i've ever had, we picked a spot 70km south of kota called jhalawar.

we went to bed that night a bit apprehensive, not knowing what to expect. we were ready for anything and, accordingly, packed only a few things, ("take ONLY what you need to survive") and stowed the rest at our hotel in kota. less luggage meant more mobility and reduced the chances of us getting stuck in a hellhole. the bus ride would take 4 hours and 98 Rupee ($2.20). as we passed by towns, we scanned each one for signs of what lay ahead. the signs, frankly, weren't much help as they were all in hindi. exhilirating, yet also intimidating. we'd talked a lot about the friendliness of the indian people, and so, in a way, the next few days were in their hands.

other than the millions of flies, the bus station in jhalawar was nondescript. no hotels were visible. we sat down next a kind-looking man (seriously, thats how we picked who to talk to), and started a conversation (where do we stay; what is there to do in this town; i'm scared, please hold me). after a few minutes, we discerned that there was a hotel across the street. we walked through the crowd that had gathered to stare at us and walked into the streets through the crowds that were staring at us.

we checked into the hotel and bounded out for some adventure. it was around noon and the desert sun was kicking. across from our hotel was a stand of shops - oranges, bread, flowers. we walked over, got some oranges and tried to ignore the stares. we found it unnerving as these were not your friendly, curious stares. i would call them "why in God's name are you here" stares. heather went to talk to a man about renting bikes, he basically shoo'd her away and the crowd started to laugh.

another bike shop across the street hooked us up and off we went, on our way to a fort 2 or 7 or 10 kilometers away, depending on whose version you believed. the staring continued, still not friendly. 2 men on a motorcyle came up next to me ... through broken English, he asked us to stop. since there was no outrunning them on our old-man, 1950s-era bikes, we obliged. he said he was from a newspaper and started asking me questions. again, not terribly friendly, nor was the crowd of 20 young men that gathered. after a short interview and some pictures. ("what do you think of india?" "please dance for us, american") we peddled on to the town center, which presented mev with a shop-op.

again, she found that some men shoo'd her away, others wouldn't listen to her or bargain with her. meanwhile, i was naming prices we'd pay for stuff, well below what mev had negotiated and they happily accepted. also, i was "strong" and "smart". so, maybe not the friendliest folk, but quite intuitive, i'd say.

mev wasn't feeling it, i couldn't blame her. we rode on to the fort, passing slums (people living in makeshift tents) along the way. riding in the sun was crushing our bodies and the landscape was crushing our spirits. after 45 minutes of biking/walking up hills in the blazing afternoon sun, we reached the fort's entrance. a mosque stood before us. we sought a place to sit in the shade. burning up, i converted my pants into shorts by zipping off the legs. a man appeared. shouting not-English, he directed me to put my leggings back on. he stood very close as i did so. just then, a herd of cattle came through the gates and passed between us. i was looking at the cows but stole a glance at him to see that he was staring a hole in my head. he basically ordered us to see the mosque, but it had no longer held any appeal, nor did the fort. the vibe of this guy was so negative that we opted to head back to town, low on water and smiles.