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By the time we got to Jodphur during my fall trip to India, I wasn’t feeling too well, and the only thing I wanted to do was go to bed. That meant I missed most of what the Blue City had to offer. Little did I know that I would get a second chance to experience its wonders at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston.
Peacock in the Desert is an exhibit representing centuries of royal treasures never seen before outside palace walls. What they represent is the history of the Rathores who are still Jodphur’s royal family. This incredible exhibit reminded me of so many things I learned and loved during my travels in Rajasthan.
The lavish life of the maharajas made such an impression. Whether they were transported by elaborately adorned elephants,
born in splendid palanquins
or driven in a Rolls Royce theirs appeared to be a pampered lifestyle.
Royal wealth and power were often depicted in art. A maharaja was regarded in so many ways: a warrior and diplomat, a connoisseur of the arts and material pleasures.
The material pleasures were many be they weapons or beautifully cast pieces of gold and silver.
On the trip, I was very curious about the role of women so it was interesting to study the exhibit in this context. In the royal environment, women appeared to have a good life. They often maintained personal shrines, such as this one dedicated to Krishna, where daily worship rituals were conducted.
Royal women had baradaris, a pavilion that could be taken apart and transported from place to place for festivals, game playing or formal state occasions. It struck me as fun to have a traveling entertainment center!
Then as now, women seem to be drawn to sparkle and adorned themselves with bangles and colorful and bejeweled clothing.
What they received for their dowries wasn’t bad either!
Throughout the exhibit were wonderful paintings that brought back memories of the intricate and detailed pieces that were observed throughout Rajasthan.
So small are some of the images that one has to look closely in order not to miss them as in this hunting scene.
I loved this piece not only for its detail and color but for the peacock in the clouds which seemed an early reference to flight.
For the boys in the family, I bought turbans so I was quite drawn to this colorful wall of turbans which taught something new. A turban represents pride and valor. Though made from similar materials, each unique style identifies community.
There was so much to see in Peacock in the Desert, perhaps more than I would have had opportunity to view in Jodphur so spending several hours roaming the space at the museum was a wonderful experience. When I saw the model of the palace where the royal family lives today, I was somewhat blown away wondering how if would be possible to care for so many rooms.
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There was never a doubt that this beautiful meticulously handwoven runner from India would be the inspiration for a tablescape and dinner for our gourmet group when it next met at our house.
I wanted nothing to take away from the beauty of the fabric so glass candle holders and vases as a centerpiece allowed the colors and pattern to show through.
Gold chargers did survive the cut and became the backdrop for varied colored plates that not only played off the thread colors but were more subtle and took nothing away from the beauty of the runner.
With napkins of gold and burgundy and etched stems with different patterns, the table was simple with touches of elegance that fit my comfort zone.
To this point the only thing missing was the flowers. Choosing roses was a no brainer as in India we were showered with rose petals upon arriving at every hotel. As luck would have it, Trader Joe’s had the perfect colors, and the tea roses nestled beautifully in their globes.
With memories of India swimming in my head, there was never a doubt that the food would also be inspired by that adventure. I opted for chicken tikka masala seasoned with spices gotten in Dehli, and to my delight the hubby found Kingfisher ale at Total Wines.
India is not for everyone. Based on what we experienced in Rajasthan it is noisy, dirty, crowded and chaotic. The infrastructure is deplorable, and I marvel at the ability of people to survive on roads where everyone is competing for space. It’s not enough that that applies to every kind of wheeled vehicle but add cows, elephants, camels and goats to the mix and it gets more than a little frightening.
For the most part, women are illiterate and according to one guide, cell phones have provided them a way to communicate with their friends and family. They may not be able to read or write but they have learned to identify numbers. Hopefully, the fact that young girls are now attending school will change that in time. Again quoting a guide, women who are educated and working outside the home are often castigated by family and friends for having broken with tradition. All this leads me to believe it would be difficult being a woman in India.
Cremation is the norm except for children and unmarried young women whose remains may be buried or with girls between 12 and 18 set adrift on the Ganges.
Business is conducted on the street or in nondescript store fronts. There is little evidence of malls or department stores yet there appears to be no lack of available goods and services.
There are many historically interesting sites to visit all of which add to understanding the culture.
If you are a textile loving person, India is heaven. The beauty of the work is breathtaking though I can’t say much about the working conditions or the equipment. When it came to weaving, I was blown away. Compared to my sophisticated setup the looms are primitive yet I can’t imagine creating the intricate designs that were common. Interestingly, much of the textiles are created by men though women working at home do most of what is hand stitched.
Let me conclude this rambling by saying that if you go to India, treat yourself to great hotels. Some are palaces formerly occupied by maharajahs with decor that is over the top. In addition, the staff is attentive, courteous and kind in a gentle way that is not always a characteristic of westerners.
Despite all its differences, I totally enjoyed the experience of India and am glad to have gone now when it still retains much of its old culture. I suspect in years to come that will change and India will be a different place. If you are one who enjoys immersing yourself in place and taking away what it offers, then India is a place to consider.
As we navigated our way through traffic, I noticed something very different about Udaipur. It was clean, the sky was clear, there was more green and in the distance could be seen mountains and water meaning we had left the desert behind.
After a nerve wracking ride, we left the bus to board a boat that would take us to our hotel, the Leela Palace. 
Seeing it in the distance made my heart beat a little faster as it appeared we had saved the best for last.
And so it was. Rooms were sumptuous with a comfortable sitting area
and inviting views in every direction.
At every turn, the hotel was beautifully appointed making me want to stay there for days. It would take days just to learn one’s way around!
As much as I hated to leave the hotel, there were sights to see. Again by boat, we headed toward the City Palace, an enormous complex dominating Pichola Lake.
It is impossible to describe the majesty of this place with its graceful arches and stained Venetian glass,
its stunning works of art done with exacting detail
and breathtaking painted surfaces telling the story of the culture that had existed there. Photographs don’t begin to do the City Palace justice.
Across the way and again accessible only by boat is the Jag Mandir Palace which was used as a summer place by the royal family. Today it is a hotel and a popular site for weddings and other social events.
Having had our fill of sightseeing, we returned to the hotel for a wonderful evening of shared friendship, good food and entertainment.
All too soon our stay was over and once again we boarded the bus for the airport and flights that would return us home. For each of us the experience was different, but there is no question that every one of us has memories indelibly inscribed in our heart. That is the gift of travel.
Jaipur, Rajasthan’s capital, is the Pink City so called because of the pink painted buildings lining the streets of the old walled city. A highlight here is the fortress/palace of Amber built in the 1500’s.
It sits high on a hillside which means a long walk to the top or opting to take the trek on an elephant.
As with other sites we have visited, the architectural details are magnificent. One can wander for hours taking them all in.
A unique feature of the Amber fortress is the use of mirrors on walls and ceilings. Their glimmering surfaces cast reflections in every direction.
While there is much more to share about Jaipur, let’s move on to Jaisalmer, the Golden City located in the desert near India’s western border with Pakistan. 
Here, too, is a fortress, and unlike others it continues to be inhabited, and its alleyways are alive with activity.
Ornate havelis dating back centuries and once home to wealthy merchants are still intact.
I love the color that changes from place to place
and signs of life that abound.
The main tourist attraction in Jaisalmer is a camel ride in the desert. I have to confess that the experience won’t go down as a highlight of this adventure!
The third J is Jodphur, the Blue City. Blue is said to be the color favored by Lord Shiva as well as a way of identifying property owned by the Brahmins, members of the highest caste. Speaking of caste, I am somewhat confused by the difference between it and class which were the terms used by guides to define social structure.
In Jodphur, as in other places, what strikes me most are sights of people doing everyday things.
I’m taken in by its vibrancy 
displayed in so many ways.
Here and elsewhere I am continually amazed and sometimes frightened by people and vehicles vying for space in what seems to be a most disorderly fashion. While that may seem unusual to me as a visitor, I suspect those who live here see it as nothing more than a way of life. 
It didn’t take long for us to find ourselves in textile heaven!
Piece after piece was thrown on the floor in front of us. Each one was handmade exemplifying astonishing skills from weaving to appliqué to embroidery.
Some were of the finest fibers with the very softest being those from a baby camel. I never would have thought camel hair to be suitable for weaving.
Much of the work is done by women working at home, but here we saw these ladies sitting on the floor doing their lovely handwork. While I was in awe of their work, I did not envy their sitting on a hard floor while doing it.
I can’t tell you how long we were in this one shop, but I can tell you that we purchased so much that we were presented with a gift, a sari. Now that is something we weren’t going to buy for ourselves, but we are very happy to have this special memory of India and had fun going native that evening at dinner.
Back at our hotel, we were welcomed by this gentleman who was only too happy to have his photo taken. I was quite surprised when he pulled from behind his ears the rather dramatic extension of his mustache. I must say we’ve seen some pretty spectacular facial hair during this adventure!
Speaking of hotels, the ones we have experienced have been spectacular. Several are palaces that have belonged to maharajahs. In fact, some still claim ownership and lease the property to hotel operators. Quite a nice way to have all those rooms become income producing, wouldn’t you say?
In addition to being very plush the service is amazing. Every employee goes out of his or her way to be helpful and pleasant.
And let me not forget the food, always freshly prepared
and beautifully presented.
Getting around in India is a bit of a challenge as means for traveling from one place to another are limited. On this journey, we ladies traveled mostly by bus. While our driver was very competent, there were some pretty scary moments on roads so narrow that it seemed as if vehicles traveling in opposite direction were playing chicken! Add to that the deplorable condition of most roads and travel becomes a nightmare! Bumping over them made my teeth hurt or maybe that was due to my jaws being so tightly clenched!
Speaking of cows, they strike me as pitiful. They are undernourished with most of their food appearing to be whatever they can forage on the street. When they are hot or tired, there’s nothing more than dirt or a hard surface on which to lay. I wished again and again for them to have someone to care for them.
Perhaps it was the more fortunate who had homes as there were a number of tents serving as shelter. The tent was often no more than cloth thrown over a pole and fixed to the ground with stakes.
Except in market areas we didn’t see as many women as men. Men gathered in groups beneath shaded areas. Women drew water from pumps, did laundry, cooked over open fire, bathed children and all the other things wives/mothers do.
Sometimes they were observed herding goats providing yet another obstacle on the narrow roads.
While it was not uncommon to see men dressed in western clothing, women were always attired in colorful traditional garb the colors of which changed from area to area.