Jaipur the second time

The first time I flew from Pune to Jaipur with Air Asia was for Sanjay's wedding. That was a great time and it ended in a car being driven by a panicky driver from the provinces trying to get us to the airport on time for our flight back to Pune. The upshot of it being that we didn't fulfill our plan of seeing some of the sights of Jaipur. This time wasn't to be so different and again, I missed seeing anything but the airport. I arrived and negotiated a prepaid taxi to take me to the bus station where I found a bus bound for Ajmer.

I arrived in Ajmer shortly after 9pm but after wandering around the bus station for an hour asking when the next bus to Pushkar would come I finally decided I didn't want to wait any longer. I stepped outside the station to see if I could find an auto rickshaw or taxi to take me. A drunk ticket salesman convinced me that a waiting bus was bound for Pushkar and indeed I finally arrived after midnight, stepping yawning out into the dim yellow lit street to the waiting rickshaw wallahs. After about 30 minutes of wandering unsuccessfully around and not having any idea where the city center lay I took an overpriced room from a drunk manager and slept.

The next day I rose at 7am and wandered down toward the ghats surrounding the lake with my camera in hand to enjoy the dawning day, drink a chai and get my bearings.

It's a disconcerting phenomenon of tourist destinations in India which have been popular since the 60's that there is a very clear expectation of what kind of person you are projected upon you. Naive, flaky, identity seeking, rich and gullible is more or less who I often feel expected to be in places like Varanasi or Pushkar. A helpful Sadhu or priest then befriends you, inviting you to come, '... experience a ritual, learn something my young friend and then donate generously.'

I try to remind myself that I there have been thousands of visitors fulfilling such cliches and that when I arrive on a bus with my fat camera I pretty much look like all the others. 

The reason I love India is that when the touts and rickshaw wallahs recede you can see that all the while the rest of life was going on with complete disregard for you. While the town was gearing up for the Holi celebration there was also the usual activity of a temple town going on. This meant people going to the Ghats to wash and pray. This meant people living in large camps around the city waking up and making tea, having breakfast.