This Snake-Charmed Kinda Life

This past weekend we decided to break out of the four walls of GDL that had come to contain us and explore some of the sights of Rajasthan, at least those not a 12 hour bus ride away (sorry Udaipur and Jaisalmer). To this end we made plans to hit up the town of many Havelis, Mandawa, a rather prominent tourist attraction on account of its preponderance of old mansions an palaces decorated with paintings and now slowly fading into the graveyard where grandeur goes to rest in. We would leave Sunday around noon, but first we had some good old fashion fan boying to do in support of the USA's futball (soccer) match against England in the beginning round of the World Cup.

This "rivalry that began with the revolutionary war" was supposedly "accentuated by current tensions over the BP oil spill", but really it was just a highly entertaining match between most of the GDL staff's home country, and the former occupier of our current locale. We were planning to watch the match (which began at midnight) at Shrot's (the director of Source For Change) house (an old Haveli itself actually) in the nearby village where he lived, and since there were so many people going (the promise of cold soda and snacks a powerful incentive) he decided to hire a jeep to save money from the bus fare. As we crowded around the jeep Shrot became increasingly pessimistic about the likelihood of us all fitting, claiming the jeep could hold 8 ppl max, and we were 12 at least. We told him it could be done, and with this attitude we all piled in, packed like sardines, until the last person came out, conveniently carrying large suitcase! This almost discouraged us completely but the can do attitude persisted and we stuffed them in too and set off with speakers, projector, chips, drinks and enthusiasm in tow.
Before the match began we found ourselves discussing a issue that had been eating at Sahel for some time, the disconnect between Indian culture's view of love and what was culturally acceptable for people to actually do in relation to their emotions. Specifically the way that songs and movies all were literally soaked in romance, longing and desire, and often portrayed those who married for love or acted from their emotions positively, whereas what is generally accepted in the culture is very different, characterized mainly by marriages arranged according to family position and prospects. We discussed the all pervasive Shaheries, or couplet poems that were traded back and forth in daily conversation and via text message, and which often focused on love and longing, as well as the fact that whereas in Hollywood one could find dramas and thrillers, sci-fi and fantasies, in Bollywood the only kind of movies were romantic comedies, and generally the most over the top melodramatic type of romance imaginable. Perhaps it was the very ridiculousness of these stories, and the songs that played for years on peoples tongues and in their ears afterwards, that made them an acceptable part of a culture where acting on love was not an option. These fantasies were an outlet for romance and a barrier as well, their extremes taking place in a different realm than that which at most people lived out their lives. Our discussion was cut short by the beginning of the match and we almost all fell asleep before the end of the 1-1 tie that kept the old rivalry alive.

The next afternoon we boarded a bus for Jhunjhunu where we would have to take a Jeep to Mandawa. Jeeps appeared to be in short supply and as we purchased some mangoes while we waited for one to appear, a snake charmer happened along, blowing upon a strange instrument that made his cheeks puff up like pomegranates as a jet black cobra rose from his basket. A crowd gathered around as they sensed our excitement and Pankaj took it upon himself to toss the man a few rupees in order to have him drape the snake across my shoulder, at which point all I could think to utter was the line Sahel had told me to memorize in my new role as the reincarnation of classic film star Raj Kapur "Farbee Dilhe Hindustani", causing the crowd in erupt in amazement that "my heart remained in India", as I made a surreptitious escape aboard our Jeep which had just arrived.

The trip to Mandawa was somewhat traumatic, as the road was big enough only for one car at a time, causing us to play chicken every time an oncoming vehicle appeared, waiting to swerve off the road until the last possible minute, but arrive in one piece we did, after close to an hour of pure desert landscape, adulterated only by several herds of goats resting under the scant patches of shade. Upon first glance Madawa is not so different than what we had come to expect from midsized towns in Rajasthan, a bustling market of fruit and snack sellers, open sewers on the sides of the street and crumbly building with faded advertisements, but here a closer inspection revealed that many of these buildings were faded works of art, old palaces and mansions pained with colorful scenes and many a column and elaborately engraved archway. We made our way to the largest attraction, the Palace Madawa, and old castle like structure partially renovated into a luxury hotel, complete with, beyond all expectations, a crisp blue swimming pool! We resisted the urge to "fall in" accidentally, knowing it would probably get ejected from the premises, and contented ourselves with taking an absurd number of photos, including every possible pairing imaginable in the two high backed ornate chairs in the main dining room that appeared fit for only a king and queen. Afterwards we headed in search of the Haveli owned by Sahel's family, which his father has purchased the previous year, but upon arrival found it to be locked and the guard nowhere to be found. We resolved to relax for the remainder of the afternoon at a nearby well, a seriously elaborate structure long dried up but the perfect spot to suck dry our mangoes and entertain some local kids with some singing and dancing while a light rain fell on a distant temple. As the weather cleared up we headed back to the entrance of the town, happy to have seen more of the State of Kings that was Rajasthan and resolving to fall asleep for the nerve-wracking bus journey home.