February 1 - In Search of the Divine Spark

We get up early to have a short hike in the hills near our resort with a dashing former Army officer as our guide. We ladies are all quite taken with him. We enjoy the quietude and being able to stretch our legs. On the Jaipur, the third city of India's Golden Triangle (Delhi and Agra being the others) but first we stop at the local market in Sikindra where some go in search of camel bells and other endless jinkies. We are armed with training on avoiding the gypsy children whose parents will inevitably thrust them upon us. We are told not to give them any money because it only goes to the adults and the children receive no benefit. For most of the 20-minute walk through the market, I am surrounded by 2 or 3 of the most persistent and annoying children I've ever encountered. The oldest is probably 10. They constantly pinch my elbows and forearms, imploring me for money and chocolate. I resist the urge to flick them away, resolutely keeping my gaze fixed on a spot ahead of me while trying to manufacture even the smallest kind thought for them. I fail. We drive through the countryside to Jaipur in our oasis (the tour bus) but I am a little tired so I think tomorrow I will enjoy it more. After lunch we head for a very ornate movie theater, much like Grauman's Chinese in size and in the ornateness of the decor. We see half of a Bollywood movie and leave at the intermission. At that, it's 90 minutes. We cause quite a stir with the Indian audience because it's obvious that all these foreigners cannot possibly speak Hindi and what would we be doing there, anyway? There is no way we are not noticeable, even in the large theater because we take up an entire long row. The audience consists of large families who are constantly chatting and using their cell phones, movie or no. With the audience cheering for all their favorite stars and loudly responding during the love scenes, it's wild and I must say that between the Hinglish and the visuals, we follow the action fairly well. We aren't to know the ending but Sujay assures us that it will be happy. It's late afternoon and we head for the Jaipur marketplace where each of us is set loose with 50 rupees (about $1.20.) The game is to come back in 45 minutes with as many items as possible. It's all about quantity. I am loathe to go because bargaining is so far from my comfort zone but I finally decide to go if Joan will do most of the dirty work. (Coward.) As we go along, I find I'm getting into it and reluctantly start to enjoy myself but we run out of time and only have 5 items each. I am sure I held Joan back but she was too kind to say anything. When we finish, we realize that we've got to cross the street. Oh dear. Picture a hugely neglected big city street at rush hour without stop lights or any attention to traffic laws and add bicycles, carts, rickshaws, motorcycles and beasts to the cars. We only made it by attaching ourselves to an Indian family and running like hell when they started to cross. We meet our group and jump into bicycle rickshaws to get back to the oasis and it's another hair-raising 10 minutes. Our rickshaw driver told us he was an Indian helicopter. Right! The questionable moment came when the large bus bearing down on us was close enough to damn near brushed the side of my leg. No one thought it worth a glance let alone a mention but I screamed a little anyway figuring it was too loud for anyone to hear me anyway. We end the evening in the large home of a family from the warrior caste here 22 people currently live. The women were beautiful in their silk saris and the food is delicious. Tomorrow will be our last day in India.