Udaipur

Udaipur

Now in Jaipur, relaxing in an otherwise seemingly abandoned but nice midrange hotel, I can reflect on the couple of days spent in Udaipur.  A great relief from the smog and congestion-- both of sinus and road spaces-- of New Delhi, a city of 12 million, Udaipur was hilly with views of hilltops and from hilltops; of shops and people in beautiful colors.  A couple of things were quite helpful in making it a better experience, namely a surprise win in hotel selection and the celebration of Shiva that took place while we were there. 

In regards to the first, the hotel was across the water from the main tourist area and the city palace.  That actually turned to be a good thing, as "the water" was an inlet of the lake, only a hundred yards or so.  That made to honking traffic well separated from our area, but the footbridge was just below.  The nicest restaurant was just down the street, much closer than across the street.  And ours was the hotel other guests were coming to, mainly for the pool.  Add to it the great views, and I would suggest that it was better than a lot of the other hotels recommended in travel guides in that town, and yet it was a last minute reservation. Some places were booked up, but not this gem.

As for the Shiva festival, it was a dawn-to-dusk music playing, drum beating, temple decorating festival capped in the evening by the women dressing in their nicest sareees and all the hindus going to the temples, where lassis and candy and fruits and nuts were given out, mainly to those leaving temple after giving an offering.  It was also the time that music was cranked up a good bit louder, especially down by Lal Ghat, the biggest of the steps in the city.  It was quite a scene all over town.  Best of all, it was a very inclusive event.  Out-of-towners, non-Hindus, whities, it didn't matter.  We were all welcome to visit, chat as best able, dance with them.  I was offered a pepper lassi by a gentleman after pausing for just about 30 seconds as I watched some of the people at the temple.  It wasn't my favorite flavor of lassi, nor was it likely in the best interest of my gastrointestinal tract to accept the offer, but he was quite proud to offer it.  With his persistence, I took a couple of sips of the half-filled cup then handed it back. He seemed content.  So far my gut has held up.

As I posted in Facebook, if you want to make a Rajasthani wide-eyed, go for a run in his neighborhood.

If you want to completely disarm them, smile at them. You are essentially guaranteed to get one back.  These things I learned going for a run out toward the solar observatory on the north end of town.  It took me off the beaten path of tourists.  But even before I had gotten that far, the commuters-- most on motorcycle, some in cars or walking-- tended to look at me as if an alien had landed.  Clearly they don't see white runners on a regular basis.  But a 99% of them, the exceptions being little old ladies, would smile if you smiled at them.  Young men would hollar something in their rapidly mustered English.  Oddly, a couple of times it was a reference to Michael Jordan, you know, that tall black guy who now plays a lot of golf.  But all the same, there was zero sense of a threat to either party and all was very enjoyable.  Even the greater concern of the traffic was overblown in my head.  In the more central areas and on narrower streets, the speeds were slow enough that I was a burden to no one.  In fact a couple of times I was pacing off of commuters on bicycles.  Mind you they were not training, and the single-speed gearing choice is way off, but if drivers are that aware of cyclists then I was no bother to them either. And out further from town, the cars are relatively fewer.  As astutely as they are of their surroundings-- dodging other vehicles, dogs, cattle-- there was almost no chance they were going to hit me.  In fact, once I realized this it became clear that I was probably safer there than in the states, most certainly safer than in any place in the U.S. where the population and traffic are that dense.  The only remaining problem, and it was a big one, was the smog, particularly passing trucks and buses, but also from the frequent burning of trash curbside.

The driving here is quite different.  After being out in it as a passenger of cars, tuc-tucs, and as a pedestrian, I  have decided it is not impossible, and the methods to the madness are not numerous nor complex, but heavily coated the moxy. Basically it is the same as wading your way through the hallways of your high school between classes. Anticipate everything, go at a speed that you could come to a complete stop in a hurry before colliding with whatever lies just out of your vision.  As with the hallways, it is quite congested, in general people try to flow in one direction on one side of the hall, but there are always people bucking the trend for their convenience and people coming straight across.  There are the bullies and the self-agrandizers that push their way through, some that yell (honk) louder than others.  And the pace of the movement is always such that injuries are rare, and those are of little significance.  I have seen four collisions while here, usually bike-to-bike.  No one has fallen, reprimands have lasted literally seconds, and everyone has gone on their way. For the minimal space given-- and it is paper thin-- you would be amazed how few of the cars have dents.  Dusty, smaller, free of frills, but intact. And testimony to the safety is the number of elderly with seeming loads of courage who cross the streets at whatever point.  They are still around to do it again tomorrow and seem undisturbed by the process, knowing that others are looking out for them. 

I have decided that if I were start a business in India, the first might be horn repair.  No driver here could go thirty seconds without honking. The second thing would be to be a bandit by night, robbing some of these vehicles of their squealing, high-pitched horns.  But back to my first job, I would only sell deeper-sounding horns of moderated volume.  The whole neighborhood doesn't need to hear him, just the people right in front of him.  As for jobs that would likely go bust, I would think that a manufacturer of street signs would go bust. They don't put much importance in them, so I think they have just resigned (Oops.  Not finding a better word, I'll leave that one.) themselves to minimalism, and if they break or lose a segment, as long as a decipherable gist is there, there is no need for repair. Secondly, a maker of mirrors. A strong half of motorcycles and scooter don't even have them, and there is no point since all that matters is what is in front of you when making your decisions.  The guy who has a wheel in front takes priority.  That which is behind you is going to honk and is assuredly ready for you to surprise them.  Most have blinkers if they feel their move is radical enough that even the most prepared might not anticipate it. 

Most astounding is the patience and lack of ire.  You can see offenses to the degree that would cause an LA driver to cap another occurring every 15 seconds here.  If you got upset like that here, you could never drive because you would constantly be using one hand to raise a finger or brandish a weapon, and since one hand MUST be used for the horn in order to go anywhere, how would you steer?  Temperments are very mild all over. Don't expect people to queue up at the slightest indication, but then you won't see anyone getting upset about it either.

There could be other upsides to the driving in India.  Take electric vehicles, for example.  One of the problems they have with them is that they don't make enough noise to warn cyclist and pedestrians.  A result of the rules-free driving is that there is honking every time you might think that someone doesn't see you or give you enough space.   That tendency is exactly what would be needed for the walkers and riders.  Problem solved.

Belinda's sidepoint: for a nation known to induce diarrhea, they produce quite small rolls of toilet paper. They are about 1/3 of US rolls, not counting our biggie rolls. They are of reasonable quality however, for which I am thankful.