Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The Ashram Where Gandhiji Lived

Ahmedabad - Day 3

This morning we’re on our own and take a walk about through the campus of St. Xavier’s College.  It’s a pretty typical college campus, kids in clumps outside the student union, a green quad surrounded by low-rise buildings labeled for their discipline (School of Computer Applications).  Everyone seems to ride a scooter. The Men’s Hostel is on campus; the women’s a couple of kilometers away.  (This strikes both of us as odd and even more so when, over breakfast the next morning, we hear about the knifing of the night watchman at the women’s hostel, the previous night.   The consensus of the priests is that it was a drug dealer sending a a ’message’ or coming to collect a debt, from a co-ed!)

We spend some time with a sociology professor who is the lead for an effort to better the lives of Dakin(?) and tribal women in the northern and eastern part of the state.  Like so many crusaders everywhere, their passion is intense and infectious.

This afternoon we visit Gandhi’s Ashram in which he lived for 12 years (1919-1931) after returning from Africa and before leading his famous marches and his ultimate non-violent movement to liberate India from the British.  It is an unassuming place and, sadly, not too well kept.  The grounds are tired and the displays lack a chronological unity.  That said, it is still a holy place. 




We spend about two hours walking, reading, sitting and contemplating the profound impact this one, humble man had, not just on India but on the whole world.  

His room and where he spun the simple cloth which became his rallying cry for Indians being proud of their country.


I’ve forgotten to mention that it is a rare city in India that doesn’t have a statue of the Mahatma at its center – smack dab in the middle of the busiest intersection, there he is, in his dhoti, sandals, carrying his walking stick or sometimes sitting in the lotus position.  No military heroes, no statues of generals with swords, no plaques extolling their conquests, the battles they won – nope, just this simple man wearing one big piece of cloth, simple sandals, and carrying a walking stick. 



The Amazing Sister Lucia and the Tragic Story of the Step Well

Ahmedabad – Day 2
The plan for this morning is that we will go to see Sister Lucia, an 80+yo Spanish nun who has established a learning/working facility for the under-privileged women of Ahmedabad.  She started simply, with a tribal fabric enterprise, probably 20 years ago and has, over time, developed a large-scale operation which employs upwards of 100 women making everything from school uniforms, under contract to local private schools, to really fine quality fabric goods.  She ships all over the world, including to the US.  Her latest training scheme for the women is cosmetology and hairdressing!  Apparently, Father Jerry has been a long-time supporter including assistance with funding.

She is a dynamo with sparkling eyes and great energy.  She has told the women ‘We don’t want people buying out of pity; we want them buying because of the fine quality.’  And Jerry tells us she is a terror at quality control.  Of course we have to have the tour and look at the product line.   They are wonderful, and we can’t resist buying some!!


All handwork - beautiful!

A tree of life pattern.


Huge table cloth with matching napkins.

Tote bag, tribal design.  This saleswoman was a hoot!  She was astonished when we didn't buy one of everything. 'You don't want this?' said with such astonishment I almost changed my mind!


Sadly, I didn't get a photo of Sister Lucia - she was like a whirling dervish.  Wonderful morning!
 ----------------------
Jerry has an after-lunch commitment so we head off on our own to the Step Well, a local attraction.  Our driver tells us that the story is that a local princess was wooed by a man she was not too keen about.  To prove his devotion, he was asked by the princess to dig a well in a most unlikely location (this is a desert environment and one doesn’t go digging wells just anywhere) and once he had dug the well, and found water, she promised to marry him. 

She never dreamed he would be successful, but he was.  The well was dug, it filled with pure water, and the access to it was an architectural wonder.  The story goes that her horror at his success was so great that she hurled herself into the well rather than marry him.  To this day, no one has taken so much as a cup of water from it.  This may be one of those stories . . . but the wonder of the Step Well remains.

Steps down from the street level.  Unless you knew this was here, you'd never find it.  It's about 45" out of the city, in the middle of a busy intersection and if there was a sign, we missed it.  Good thing the driver knew where it was.

There were about 20 school children working on drawings of a portion of the walls or columns.






And, at last, the well.

It's about 5 stories down, smelly, and sad.  

The scope and details of this well are staggering . . . a few more photos.


One happy photo before we leave . . . 

Maybe We Should Have Taken the Sleeper Birth Bus . . .

Early off (our bus is at 8:30, we’re told to be there at 8) and Debbie and Paul have graciously lent us their cell phone with alarm as the iPad alarm has stopped working!  And we’re missing today’s big event – the Rajah of Udaipur and his wife are coming to dedicate a new coffee house right downstairs!!  The road has been marked with strips of white and pink chalk and will be closed off for the event.  Debbie and Paul promise to take photos for us!! 

Our first bus ride – only in India!  We get to the bus ticket counter – same place we bought the tickets - and there’s not a bus in sight.  Talk to a couple of German girls, and we think we’re on the same bus – to Ahmedabad.  Turns out they booked the ‘sleeper birth’ and are on a different bus . . . could there really be two busses to the same city at the same time?   Then a bus arrives with something we can’t read on the front (Hindi?).  One of the innumerable ‘workers’ waves us over to it – there are two seats left – ours!  It’s packed, all Indians and a bollywood tear-jerker blaring from the screen in front.   OK we’re off! 

Sweet episode en route.  We stop for a food and bathroom break.  I head toward the ‘Toilet’ and wait my turn.  It’s pretty gross, actually it's very gross . . . then a local says, ‘The door doesn’t close; I’ll hold it for you.’  I feel duty bound to at least go inside the cubicle but when I see about a half inch of water(?) on the floor, I can’t do it . . . so I wait a few seconds, flush the toilet and thank the sweet lady for holding the door closed.

We’re going to Ahmedabad to meet up with a priest friend of our dear friends, Liz and Jerry, in NM.  Liz made two trips to India almost 30 years ago and was so excited that we might be able to get to see her old friend, Father Jerry Michael.  We’ve arranged to stay with him at the rectory.  He knows we’re arriving by bus but we don’t have a pick-up plan . . . or even an address, other than his parish.

Ahmedabad, a city of almost 6 million, is in Gujarat State, the westernmost state in India and, I read somewhere, the single Indian State where most immigrants to the west come from.  It’s also Mahatma Gandhi’s home.  We’re making our way through the outskirts; it’s busy, crowded, and has a very western feel to it.  Traffic is quite orderly, streets are well-maintained, and cows seem to have taken a back seat to commerce.  Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, Coach – first time we’ve seen so many designer shops. 

We’re heading farther into the city, making occasional stops for people to get off, and then, voila, the bus stops, a man gets on, walks up to our seats, and says ‘Father Jerry’.  Yes, that’s us!!  We retrieve our luggage from the belly of the bus, and off we go in his tuk tuk. 

A short ride later and we're left at the front gate of St. Xavier's church, where Father Jerry is waiting.

He remembers Liz with great fondness and clarity, even after all these years.  Such a candid and open man - and priest!  He tells us that this track suit is his usual 'priestly garb' - a throwback to his decades as an athlete, something he dearly misses since a couple of health setbacks in recent years.  

We take a tour of the rectory, meet the other six priests in residence and plan some outings for the next two days.  Tim and I are most impressed with the crucifix in the church - Jesus's hands are not nailed to the cross or dripping blood, they are extended in a welcoming gesture.


Tim at the entrance to the rectory grounds (beautiful and lovingly kept) - that's a cow-proof gate!

The rectory kitchen where we ate breakfast and dinner with Jerry and his fellow priests.

Off tomorrow to see some of the sights of Ahmedabad!

The Venice of India

Udaipur - Day 2
The one other ‘must see/must do’ in Udaipur is a boat ride around the Lake.  But first a visit to the bus station to straighten out the trip to Ahmedabad.  The ever-eager tuk tuk driver takes us, waits while we square away the ticket (no, we do not want a ‘Sleeper Birth’) and then takes us to one of the ghats where we are the last people on the boat.  We are the only Westerners; the Indians are all wearing their life jackets!  We’d anticipated a stop at Shangiwarh (sp?) Island but we just do a drive by . . .





No surprise, the White Palace is now a Taj Hotel.



Our new friend from Varanasi, Mariana, has emailed me with a restaurant recommendation.  It's just over the footbridge, and Paul and Debbie have gone to check it out for our dinner tonight.  Turns out it’s quite swish and they can only ‘seat us’ at 7:30 – we’ve all left our formal wear at home so decide to catch one of the other spots across the footbridge.  Lovely, lovely spot . . . it really is the Venice of India; I can understand why it’s so popular.  Sorry we don't have more time here.

Delightful dinner with Debbie and Paul, getting to know them, finding so much to share . . . again, I marvel at the wonder of fate . . . what are the chances that we would all be in the same hotel at exactly the same time, and Paul would just happen to be sitting on the rooftop when we checked in??  I do hope we see them again, somewhere, somehow . . .  we will certainly stay in touch.  


Two very happy couples!


Good night new friends, good night Udaipur!


The Perils of Being a Princess

Udaipur, the Venice of India, was made famous thanks to one of the James Bond films, Octopussy, which was filmed, in part, at several local sites, including the famous palace on the water.  Many hotels show Octopussy every night – gratis!  A few scenes from ‘Best Exotic . . . ‘ were also filmed here.  It’s no wonder – the views over Lake Perchola are stunning and the whole city is very tourist-friendly.  

Tempting as it is to just laze about and take in the 360 degree view from the rooftop, we make an excursion to the Royal Palace Museum.  Very impressive!  Very human-scale – very worth seeing.   Each raj is called the ‘custodian’ not the ruler, not the raj, not the king – the custodian.  My favorite story from the palace tour – the daughter of an 18th c raj was, (thanks to a bureaucratic error) promised to both the raj of Jaipur and the raj of Jodhpur.  Her father, faced with an impossible dilemma, decides that the only solution is to eliminate the bride – to wit, kill her!  Her attendants are told to poison her; the first dose doesn’t work, the second dose doesn’t work, the third dose (probably enough to kill an elephant!) works.  The audio guide reports how heartbroken her father was – oh duh!!  I want to know what happened to the bureaucrat . . .

Photos from the Royal Palace Musuem . . . 

Entrance . . . 

Start of the audio guide tour.

Cool interior courtyard.



 View over the Lake, the White Palace in the background.  The guide relates that all the women were taken to the White Palace when the Royal Palace was threatened.


Beautifully restored inlaid murals in the courtyard.  

The quarters of the ill-fated princess.


The maharaja's east-facing breakfast room.  This raj is a sun-worshipper (a type of Jainism?) and is required to salute the sun every morning before taking any food or drink.  Easy this time of the year but when the monsoons come, the sun can go days without making an appearance.  Solution - make a sun!  This is directly opposite the breakfast room.


One of the many inlay installations all over the palace.
  

Heading back to the hotel.


Hey Tim, wait for me!!