On recommendation from the Co-Owner of Dev Niwas we stayed with an Indian family whilst in Jodhpur. They were relatives of his and so he kindly arranged our stay in their family home.
On our first evening in Jodhpur we headed to the Clock Tower and its surrounding Bazaar. The market was fantastic, an exciting mix of colours, sounds and smells congregate in a bustling area packed with life. Jodhpur is known for its spices and one segment of the market is entirely dedicated to it. One of the shop keepers invited us in to sample some Saffron Tea and showed us his treasure trove of herbs and spices. It was every cooks dream, bursting with flavours that we simply wouldn't know what to do with. The shop keeper exports his stock to England and we left his place with a business card and a shopping list.
Although we managed to resist the spices, the array of bangles we (well, Emma) could not. Women in India wear bangles as a sign that they are married and therefore unavailable to other men. We found this interesting as one could understandably mistake the wearing of jewelry as a way to attract men rather than deter them. We managed to barter a woman down to a good price (so good that she glared at Shane in a way only a scorned woman can) and Emma now merrily jingle-jangles her way round in the comfort that everyone knows she is spoken for.
The following day we visited Mehrangarh which is a huge fort built by Maharajah Man Singh in 1806 following his victory over Jaipur and Bikaner. The Mehrangarh is a huge complex of forts and palaces which are a treat to ramble around. We took an Audio Tour which we would certainly recommend as it contextualised the Mehrangarh, really bringing it to life.
A part of the tour which struck a chord with us were the hand prints of Maharajah widows who had committed Saati. We had only just learned of Saati, it is the act, usually performed by women, of throwing oneself into the flames which cremate your loved and lost one. The idea being that you go with them into the next life. Seeing the hand prints made this unimaginable act feel real. Emma held her palm over the prints and tried to imagine how these women must have felt when they were made. A deep sadness seemed to seep out of the wall they were printed on.
We had a couple of hiccups at the Mehrangarh, none having anything to do with the complex itself. Firstly, we discovered that our Bank Card had gone missing - this is a long and boring story with little to do about India and therefore we shall skip it. Secondly, Emma was closely surrounded by a large group of Indian men (Shane was at the Ticket Office) who found something about her most amusing. The group was led by a man who approached Emma, said something whilst pointing at her at which point the group burst out laughing for what seemed like an eternity. As we have reported, attention is something that foreigners will get whilst visiting India. Mostly this attention is harmless and, at times it is plesant, but on occasion it has been quite upsetting. One has to remind themselves that this is not personal, you are something quite different to many of the locals, but when you would not act in such a way yourself it can be difficult to understand.
Our stay in Jodhpur was extended from two nights to six. In part due to our Bank Card saga, but mainly because Emma was ill. After two days in bed we decided to take her to the Hospital and the family that we were staying with kindly pointed us in the right direction. After a thorough examination and some tests it was found that she had contracted both a Urine Infection and an Intestinal Infection. She was prescribed with more pills that we have room to mention and enough Hydration sachets to water a Camel.
The Hospital was a world away from any we have visited before. Keeping in mind that this was recommended to us by a family of considerable fortune, it was by Western standards, quite alarming. One could not help but wonder what the lesser vacinities must be like. Being Hopitalised in India would be frightening for most travellers, seeing this acted as a stark reminder of how different India is to England and how fortunate we are to have the NHS.
The Indian family with whom we stayed could not have made us feel more at home, particularly whilst Emma was ill. We simply could not have felt more welcome. The mother of the family, or Mumma-Chappati as we have named her, fussed us like we were her own. She was a gentle lady with a big heart and an amazing array of Indian dishes under her cooking belt. She made Shane a delicious home cooked Thali every day and brought Emma rice and curd to ease her stomache.
The Father of the family, Bhupendra, was equally hospitable. He helped us in every way we needed him to and he even taught Shane how to tie a turban (this was like a Father teaching his Son how to knot a tie for the first time). Knowing our background in Videography, Bhupendra invited us to watch a family Wedding Video. Unfortunatly we did not get to see the ceramony (the video only showed the days in the run up to the wedding), but spending time with the family and learning a little about their traditions was lovely. Marriage celebrations in India often commence two weeks before the wedding itself, they involve lots of blessings, gift giving, dancing and family orientated fun. One particular part that we found most ammusing involved Mumma-Chappati dressed as a Groom (curly moustache and all) in a traditional mock ceromony. It's always the quiet ones that you have to watch!
Whilst staying with the family we spent quite a lot of time with Vindeshwari who was the elder of two sisters. She was an absolute angel. With a fantastic sense of humour, quick wit and playful nature, Vindeshwari certainly put her excellent Engliash abilities to good use (girl can talk). Vindeshwari has inherited her Mums big heart and she worked very hard to make us feel at home - Perhaps in part because she was procrastinating from her fastly approaching final exam.
On our last eveing at the house Mumma-Chappati cooked us a feast and Vindeshwari supplied us with copious amounts of cake. Sadly Bhupendra was away, but we did get to spend a little more time with Vatsala who is the youngest of the two sisters. Like many of us, Vatsala is somewhat obsessed with Robert Patterson (she has two postal addresses for him) and takes after the other women in her family with her kind and playful nature. That night we ate like Royals, giggles like schoolgirls (Shane included) and then left for Jaipur with fond memories and heavy hearts. The family surprised us with parting gifts, we now own two turbans and a table setting for our first home. As Vindeshwari kindly said, we have all formed a beautiful relationship on firm foundations. So heres to the future and a friendship surley built to last.
On our first evening in Jodhpur we headed to the Clock Tower and its surrounding Bazaar. The market was fantastic, an exciting mix of colours, sounds and smells congregate in a bustling area packed with life. Jodhpur is known for its spices and one segment of the market is entirely dedicated to it. One of the shop keepers invited us in to sample some Saffron Tea and showed us his treasure trove of herbs and spices. It was every cooks dream, bursting with flavours that we simply wouldn't know what to do with. The shop keeper exports his stock to England and we left his place with a business card and a shopping list.Although we managed to resist the spices, the array of bangles we (well, Emma) could not. Women in India wear bangles as a sign that they are married and therefore unavailable to other men. We found this interesting as one could understandably mistake the wearing of jewelry as a way to attract men rather than deter them. We managed to barter a woman down to a good price (so good that she glared at Shane in a way only a scorned woman can) and Emma now merrily jingle-jangles her way round in the comfort that everyone knows she is spoken for.
A part of the tour which struck a chord with us were the hand prints of Maharajah widows who had committed Saati. We had only just learned of Saati, it is the act, usually performed by women, of throwing oneself into the flames which cremate your loved and lost one. The idea being that you go with them into the next life. Seeing the hand prints made this unimaginable act feel real. Emma held her palm over the prints and tried to imagine how these women must have felt when they were made. A deep sadness seemed to seep out of the wall they were printed on.
Our stay in Jodhpur was extended from two nights to six. In part due to our Bank Card saga, but mainly because Emma was ill. After two days in bed we decided to take her to the Hospital and the family that we were staying with kindly pointed us in the right direction. After a thorough examination and some tests it was found that she had contracted both a Urine Infection and an Intestinal Infection. She was prescribed with more pills that we have room to mention and enough Hydration sachets to water a Camel.
The Hospital was a world away from any we have visited before. Keeping in mind that this was recommended to us by a family of considerable fortune, it was by Western standards, quite alarming. One could not help but wonder what the lesser vacinities must be like. Being Hopitalised in India would be frightening for most travellers, seeing this acted as a stark reminder of how different India is to England and how fortunate we are to have the NHS.
The Indian family with whom we stayed could not have made us feel more at home, particularly whilst Emma was ill. We simply could not have felt more welcome. The mother of the family, or Mumma-Chappati as we have named her, fussed us like we were her own. She was a gentle lady with a big heart and an amazing array of Indian dishes under her cooking belt. She made Shane a delicious home cooked Thali every day and brought Emma rice and curd to ease her stomache.
The Father of the family, Bhupendra, was equally hospitable. He helped us in every way we needed him to and he even taught Shane how to tie a turban (this was like a Father teaching his Son how to knot a tie for the first time). Knowing our background in Videography, Bhupendra invited us to watch a family Wedding Video. Unfortunatly we did not get to see the ceramony (the video only showed the days in the run up to the wedding), but spending time with the family and learning a little about their traditions was lovely. Marriage celebrations in India often commence two weeks before the wedding itself, they involve lots of blessings, gift giving, dancing and family orientated fun. One particular part that we found most ammusing involved Mumma-Chappati dressed as a Groom (curly moustache and all) in a traditional mock ceromony. It's always the quiet ones that you have to watch!
Whilst staying with the family we spent quite a lot of time with Vindeshwari who was the elder of two sisters. She was an absolute angel. With a fantastic sense of humour, quick wit and playful nature, Vindeshwari certainly put her excellent Engliash abilities to good use (girl can talk). Vindeshwari has inherited her Mums big heart and she worked very hard to make us feel at home - Perhaps in part because she was procrastinating from her fastly approaching final exam.
Mumma-Chappati sounds like an angel guys. This must be a family that you stay in contact with. My experience of Indian culture is the same - that they welcome you into their homes and makes an absolute fuss of you; like a guest of honour. I remember my mum packing me off to London for a week. Big trip on the train alone when I was about nine. She found an Indian family on the train to take care of me. And boy did they - I was the guest of honour for the journey. Westerners wouldn't have done that, made such a fuss I mean. Sure they would have 'watched' me but not adopted me! Surfice to say, thirty-odd years later and I still remeber them. People not places hey? xxx
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