Several of us marveled at the fact that this wasn’t a world
heritage site; it was absolutely stunning with its mirrored walls and manicured
gardens, courtyards and stone screens, protected by a long great wall and
another fort above the palace. This was, without a doubt, the high point of
beautifully executed stonework I had hoped to see in India. That, and the guide
hired to tell about the history and lives of the family that owned this palace
(there were photographs in the bookstore of the beautiful last maharani accompanied by Jackie
Onassis) made for an enchanting afternoon.
Below, in the lake, students celebrated the second day of a
festival dedicated to the Hindu goddess of knowledge, Saraswati --they
floated the flower-decorated figure of the goddess into the artificial lake in
spite of the chilly temperatures.
Surprise! Mo. Ali speaks good Japanese (and a decent
smattering of other languages). Ambitious and smart, this fellow is all charm
and only a tiny bit larcenous. By now, we’ve all figured out that each person
we deal with has connections: when they bring buyers in, they get a cut of
everything sold. In Ali’s case, his choices were mostly good, so we didn’t
mind. The drawback is, you may miss something your really wanted to see—in this
case, only Virginia and her mom actually made it to the bazaar where the prices
were considerably lower than any of the shops we were led to.
Mo. Ali asked us about our interests and insisted on taking
us to "his" place. We entered an iron-walled yard through a tiny door
and came into the tie-die place, muddy with giant 5-foot round wood fired vats
of dye, and dozens of red, blue, green and yellow dresses hanging in bunches.
The yard was littered with cast-off bags and other garbage, and we tried not to
notice the single boiling finishing vat was the color of urine. The owner
explained the process they used, and took us inside for a demonstration of
hand-stamped fabric, something Jaipur is known for. Upstairs, mound upon mound
of goods were laid out before us, which is the oriental technique; it
overwhelms the senses until you numbly hand over your credit card. I did. I
strongly suspect not all the items were made there, as claimed. And when I
washed my beautiful hand-stamped, organically dyed dress for the first time, it
must have missed India, because most of the colors ran off. Caveat Emptor is
India’s new motto.
To see specific reviews of guides/travel companies, places
to eat, stay and shop in India, see my
custom guide to the golden triangle on GoGoBot.
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