The International Writers Magazine: India

Jodhpur; City Of Surprises • David Russell In search of a good meal

Our diverse group, headed for more surprises than we had any right to expect, numbered a scientist who had just lectured at a World Food conference, a retired, former European IBM Executive, a Woman Minister, a Dentist turned Pain Specialist, a retired Newspaper Editor, a female Bio Chemist College Professor, a retired Elementary School Principal, an Artist,
a retired Walter Reed Brain Specialist, a former Ohio Ad Account Exec, a former CDC administrator, an international scrap metal Dealer, a Realtor who leased apartments in Paris and Manhattan, a former Forest Ranger, two New Zealand Teachers, my wife and I.

The first surprise though was an unpleasant one, it was the only one of that type. We had boarded a Jet Air flight expecting a 6 PM take-off for our destination, Jodhpur. It never happened. 4 hours later, we finally left the gate. While we sat and sat, we became an edgy group of passengers. At 7:30, to quell our mutinous-sounding grumbles, the crew began to hand out food boxes, containing a piece of Yellow Cheese, a slice of White Bread, an
Apple, a piece of packaged Cake and thankfully, cuts filled with Hot Beverages.

We landed, finally, at 10:30PM, which almost cost us our first surprising surprise. The owner of the AJIT BHAWA, the unique hotel we were scheduled into, was also a collector of 1930’s classic cars. He and our Leader, son of a local land owner, had arranged for drivers to meet our flight wearing traditional 1930’s chauffer dress with those high pummeled hats and then W
parade us through the Jodhpur streets as if we were arriving Raja’s in a LaSalle, Packard, Chevy, Ford and Rolls.

Having about given us up, the drivers were getting ready to leave when they heard our plane engine. So, there we were at 11 PM in our antique cars, parading through the now darkened, deserted streets to our hotel which became surprise number two. Advertised as a recreational Palace for the Discriminating, the AJIT BHAWA  lived up to its billing.  Each room had been built to its own India life theme and motif. Ours was a recreated Yurt, authentic down to its draped walls and ceiling. The only modern items were the plumbing.

Ours was a recreated Yurt, authentic down to its draped walls and ceiling. The only modern items were the plumbing. Normally, travel groups are avoided by the AJIT who did prefer a Rajah and his family and staff, but our leader’s influence had gotten us in.

Next morning in the light, we could appreciate the uniqueness of the grounds, with Animal Sculptures and ancient tool replicas outside each bungalow and in park-like settings. Prominently displayed, there was the owner’s open garage inviting inspection of his 10 antique classics.

Breakfast was another surprise, a true misery of choice. Two Chefs, calling everyone Sir or Madame, tended a “to order” Omelet table with enough variety of “fillings” to feed an army. On the stove pots kept Hot Porridge hot.

Tea and coffee were steeped or brewed then hand poured into Chinaware mugs.
A separate table featured baked items, including Nan, Rolls, breads  of every grain, even a choice of Bagels. Another table offered Fruits, Cold Cereals and Yogurt. Not a steady diet for certain, but for our crew it became a go-back-for-more, very slowly eaten breakfast.

We looked a bit sated as we boarded our air conditioned bus for a long drive to the Indian Desert, the most populated Desert on Earth.  Caravans, Yurt cities, school buildings and small businesses all crossed our horizon as we headed for our first stop, the gigantic Mehrangath Fort. With modern head sets, we roamed the huge hilltop Buildings (more museum than fort) which dated from 1459. 3 hours of walking (off breakfast) we took in the architecture of the metropolis sized venue, with walls that rose 400’ above base level

3 hours of walking (off breakfast) we took in the architecture of the metropolis sized venue, with walls that rose 400’ above base level. In the buildings, including the Eunuch quarters and the Harem, werehoused a huge collection of Arms, Coaches, Elephant Saddles, Royal Baby Cradles, hundreds of years of art collection and much Polo playing Gear, since Jodhpur is considered the birthplace of Polo, with the city named after the pants polo players wear.

Hours later our second bussing, brought us to tent city in the desert where lunch had been set for us. One table offered a mélange of help yourself Rice Dishes and Salads. Another, Lemonade and Iced Tea, all light calorie foods to match the areas exceptionally high Humidity and 100+ degree Temperature.

After lunch, a group of our leader’s musician buddies entertained, beginning with a performance by a well known local Belly Dancer. Her belly shook, rattled and rolled, raising everyone’s temperature ever higher.  When she finished, she talked us through the intricacies of her movements, before inviting us to join her on the dance floor to try our own Belly Dance
skills. I admit our woman were far better than we men,  but, we were funnier, a laugh for all. Our next stop was at a typical village school where the students were mainly male. The girls stood outside looking in, while caring with their Grandmother’s after the wee ones. From the school, we visited the home of a local Opium trader. While most families grew crops
of rice and corn, his cash crop was poppies, accepted by all as a legitimate way to feed one’s family. For anyone in the group interested, he offered samples. My wife, who was nursing a sore throat became his willing patient. Whether her throat was really feeling better with the help of the “medicine”, as she said, or she was just overall feeling a toot better, we’ll never know. While Grandpa kept filling his pipe and starting to stare and smile at our women a bit too much, his daughters showed off their children while sneaking peeks and checking us out. Before the scene became overly social, we bid our farewell, wished them well and escaped.

Our last scheduled stop was at a rug merchant, whose home housed two hard working 12
foot looms. After showing how the looms work and before we said a word, he and his helpers had literally rolled out 20 carpets of all sizes and colors filling a large portion of his lawn, with credit card machines conspicuously in sight.  Those not buying thought too much time had been allotted the stop, but not the buyers in our group. An hour of hard bargaining concluded
with smiling buyers and money counting sellers contentedly sharing glasses of wine.

Enroute to the hotel, we made one final stop to watch pickers harvesting an expansive red carpeted pepper field.  Back at AJIT, we complimented our leader for a Red Banner day, not knowing more surprises were ahead.

After an energetic shower to wash away the day’s sand, we set about the evening’s dinner activities. Mine was begun in a lovely manner with a chilled Anchovy Olive Tanqueray. Claryce’s. a bold red wine which we sipped with our mates at 5 large, round Linen covered dinner tables set on the lawn.

After allowing for a first round to become a second, men were given cloth and shown how to create a turban; a chore with a Gin glass in hand, but we did manage to make and wear them.  Women got away easy, given shawls.

Each table promoted wines from the fledgling Indian Wine Industry with the brand name “Indus”.  A Red and White were offered, both designated Cabernet Sauvignon.  However, the labels had two additional bits of confusion, Merlot indicated the Red and Blanc the white. A sniff and taste of each indicated that for Wine aficionados, a future eye on the wines of India was in order. Personally, I preferred my Tanqueray.

Dinner was a served from chinaware bowls and silver trays, a very delicious Chicken-y menu. A rich wine laced Consume was hint of what was to come. The main course was the chef’s exquisite answer to baking Chicken Sweet and Sour, which was accompanied by bowls of Steamed Greens and Saffron flavored Brown Rice.  Eat, talk, and drink filled  the next almost 2 hours before the desert cart delivered Mango Sherbet with Petit Fours and hot beverages.

Under a star filled sky, we all meandered across the lawn on a short after dinner stroll which somehow led our collective selves to the tap room in the main building.

To my request for “Two Rusty-Nails, please.”, I got a stiff upper lipped,
“Yes, sir, coming right up”.

AJIT BWAHA was indeed a paradise for folks much richer than we. But, that day, all of us became a Rajah’s family, obviously richer than most.
©  David Russell Feb 2011
druss811@verizon.net

Share |

More Comment