“I can’t give them money but…”

“I can’t give them money but I can give them happiness so I just smile at them” Pia trying to figure out poverty and homeless kids in India. By Marta Kaltreider.
After many attempts at starting this piece, I am realizing that none of these written words will do India justice because India must be experienced in one’s own skin, but I will try my best. Even our most beautiful photographs cannot capture India either because India goes beyond what our eyes can see. I will still keep on trying my best. India has excited our senses, all at once, continuously, and has awaken us in ways we never knew possible. We hope this piece will inspire you to travel to India for the first time or to return and rediscover it once again. We are certainly looking forward to going back.

Our first impressions of India start in Delhi, which in retrospect seems the most mellow of all the cities we visited from that point on. In the moment Delhi feels dusty, polluted and dilapidated but not overcrowded, which surprises us. We stay with a local family who generously opens their home to us, takes us in and helps us ease in to our adventure by giving us tips on things to do and showing us around the neighborhood. We visit the local fish market, venture to the famous Lotus Temple and bring back our negotiating skills with the first of many tuk-tuk rides over the next few weeks. After two nights and a heartfelt goodbye to our host Pankaj and his family we head off to the city of Agra.

Driving out of Delhi is definitely an experience. It is hazy, the air is visibly thick, and the amount of chaos is hard to describe: mayhem traffic of all vehicles imaginable, motorized or man powered, not to mention the occasional cow and random pedestrians in the middle of it all completely unfazed by the dangers.

In the outskirts of Delhi the combination of fog and pollution make it hard to appreciate what is going on beyond the railing of the road. For the next 4 hours we drive through what seems like a straight endless highway. Surprisingly, there is no traffic, but as it turns out we have taken the toll road, which is apparently very expensive, hence the lack of vehicle activity! As the fog slowly dissolves along the way and the pollution eases, we are gifted with infinite fields of beautiful yellow flowers of mustard-seed crops, sprinkled with scattered trees and picturesque huts. We take a break at a rest stop to freshen up, pick up some snacks and use the bathroom. In the parking lot we are greeted from the distance by a gipsy dad and his little gipsy daughter covered in little bells dancing to the sound of the most rudimentary instrument. The rest stop is vibrant with loud Indian families and the occasional western travelers, aka the Kaltreider family. Suddenly it hits us: we are definitely not in the US, not even in Bali… We are in India! Nothing subtle about it, not even in a nondescript highway stop for passerby: sounds, smells, colors, rhythm, light… India is unfolding right in front of us.

Home of the Taj Mahal, Agra is one of the most visited cities in the northern province of Uttar Pradesh and is a pouring fountain of Mughal history, the non-Indian muslims from Afghanistan that reigned northern India for centuries. Cows, goats, cars, rickshaws, pedestrians, motorcycles, bicycles, bull carts and street vendors have all thrown themselves out into the street, at the same time, in the same place, non-stop and in all directions through a massive dust cloud that never seems to vanish. Welcome to Agra and again, welcome to India!

This time is Mrs. Gini and Mr. Simran’s family who welcome us into their wonderful home gracefully, kindly and generously (worth making a note of the fact that Mr. Simran wears the coolest turban!). In Agra we learn about breathtaking Mughal forts and determined emperors. We admire first hand the almost lost art of artisan marble carving and semi-precious stone inlaying used to decorate the majestic Taj Mahal (which stopped my heart and brought tears to my eyes). We bring a little taste of Christmas to an orphanage founded by Mother Teresa of Calcutta and we embrace and are blown away by the post-apocalyptic feel this small and vibrant city has to offer. We leave Agra feeling grateful for Mrs. Gini and Mr. Simran’s thoughtfulness in making our stay in Agra so memorable. Thank you Mrs. Gini and Mr. Simran, we will forever be thankful to you and we hope that we will cross paths again in the future.

A funny and surreal stop in Bharatpur for one night (don’t even know how to put this one into words!) and we are off to Jaipur, the Pink City. Painted pink – a welcoming color in India – to greet prince Edward VII and queen Victoria during their 1876 visit to the country, Jaipur most certainly does not disappoint. In fact, we like it so much we end up staying much longer than we had imagined! Opulent palaces, magnificent forts, serene lakes and stunning views all showered by this unreal warm golden light that is becoming so characteristic of India. Driving (or even walking!) through the Pink City is quite the experience. The streets are jam-packed with so much! Shoulder to shoulder crowds, endless bazaars, busy traders, bumper to bumper vehicles… Just when we though we had seen it all traffic wise (cars, motorcycles, bicycles, rickshaws, tuk-tuks, vendor carts, pedestrians, cows, pigs, goats and sheep all sharing the road erratically) we are now proven wrong as elephants and camels join in the traffic fun through the streets of Jaipur. Unbelievable… Oh! and did we mention the cobra enchanters??? Yeah, just as you imagine them: mature men, with stereotypical Indian features, wearing perfect turbans, covered in city dust, sitting on the dirty floor in front of two baskets from where cobras dance to the tunes of their high-pitched instrument’s notes. Unbelievable again…

Our host Anuj and his family are the ones who welcome us in the heart of the Pink City. Their home is a little oasis in the middle of the chaos where Pia, Marcus and Clara get to play with cows, learn about milking them, fly rudimentary kites with local kids, run around and make some friends. We also feel very fond of Miss Honey, who takes care of us dearly every day by making us delicious breakfasts and brewing special teas to help our sore throats and always with us the most heartwarming smiles.

And just when we think it cannot get any better, we arrive to Jodhpur. The Blue city. And we just fall in love with India all over again… In the stark landscape of the Thar Desert, Jodhpur raises to the bright daily sun with its vivid blue-painted houses circling the magnificent Mehrangarh Fort. Luckily for us we meet Vipin who openheartedly adopts us as his family in his traditional home in the center of this alluring and spirited city. From his rooftop we are gifted with the most stunning views of the ancient fort that accompany us every morning for the most delicious breakfasts, and every night for our Indian dinner feasts. It is in Vipin’s home that we welcome the new year full of joy and excitement. We feel so grateful to be where we are!

The impossibly narrow and action-packed streets of Jodhpur are always an adventure and we cannot get enough of it: picturesque stores stuffed with brightly-colored spices, endless miles of hand-twisted and braided ropes and twines, exquisite fabrics and intricate handicrafts, jungles of sparkling bangles (Indian women love bling!)… Speedy tuk-tuks zigzagging impossibly close around pedestrians, beggars, bicycle riders, vendor carts, animals and children playing. Local markets with dreamlike cheap products and master price-bargaining sellers. Women beautifully dressed in fabulous saris, washed out colored walls all around, stunningly ornate doors, intense smells, deafening sounds, twists, turns… a lot of everything and more, all at once, infinitely… Intensely…

It is hard to leave the Blue City behind: the friends we have made, the magnificent views, the colorful architecture, the vibrant life of the city… Jodhpur’s soul is intense and we have fallen for it.

Back on the road we are off to Jaisalmer, the Golden City, a World Heritage Site deep in the Thar Desert close to the border with Pakistan. This yellow sandstone wonder stands on a ridge and is crowned by the most magnificent fort we have visited yet. Truly breathtaking…

The moment we arrive we feel like we have left India behind, or at least the India we know by now, and have landed in a different country. Finely and exquisitely sculptured architecture (mind-blowing!), stunning ornate temples glowing to Jodhpur’s magical sun light, the highly mystical flaire of the women hiding their faces mysteriously behind vibrant colored veils… Jaisalmer has a strong moorish flavor that excites our senses and conquers our souls.

Jaisalmer’s fort is the only one we have seen that is still inhabited by the local community and while exploring it time and again we meet wonderful people full of interesting stories to tell; thank you Mrs. Bobby for your inspirational words and hard work to empower Indian women so they can be independent and carve their own paths in life (India is indeed a men’s world). Thank you Ritesh for sharing your magical rooftop with us so we could admire the sunset and the changing colors of the fort while sipping on your delicious coffee and tea brews (do not miss Ku Ku Coffee Shop and Ritesh’s company if you are ever in Jaisalmer!). We carry those memories with us forever.

 

And again, just as we thought it could not get any better, here we go again! We are off deep into the Thar Desert, where for the next day and-a-half we have the opportunity to live with the bedouins, traveling from village to village by camel, sleeping under the stars, eating dal and chapati (that Sambu, Gyan and Giteu teach us how to make) around the campfire and learning to clean the dilapidated cast iron pan with the most natural and effective grit: desert sand!

I feel again at a lack of words to express how unbelievable this time living in the desert is. A feeling of eternal freedom overcomes me while I observe my children running all over the infinite openness of the sand dunes, following endless tiny tracks of industrious beetles over the fine desert sand, rocking hypnotically while riding the camels, learning to care for them and fetching them in the morning as they have wandered off during the moonless night. We embrace the deafening silence and the serene stark views of the desert, we make friends with the bedouins who so genuinely and kindly take care of us sharing everything they have…

The end our journey in India is approaching and this seems like the grand finale of a trip that has changed our lives. A 20 hour train ride back to Delhi awaits for us. A good time for me to process and reflect on the last few weeks and, of course, make new wonderful friends like Mandavi, Rohit, Chetna, Swastika and their wonderful families, full of knowledge, stories and kind hearts that we hope we will enjoy again sometime in the future.

India is a country of dramatic contrasts and unconceivable beauty. India’s post-apocalyptic soul is striking and often times conflicting: I have never experienced so much filth, chaos and poverty yet at the same time I have never been so accepting of it. Perhaps the obvious and intrinsic beauty of India’s opulent palaces, saturated colors, magical natural light, rich textures and interesting people need to cohabit with the other side of India: the lack of hygiene, the roughness, the constant fight for survival… because there is no ying without yang, no good without bad, no life without death, no beauty without ugly, no world without India… Oh India… We will be back!