The Train to Jaipur: Part II

Waiting in the train station in Jaipur.

One of the bazaars.

     All my good friends and family members know not to wake me from a peaceful nap. And, if they do, they definitely know not to play obnoxiously loud and annoyingly squeaky Hindi music at full blast during the wee hours of the morning. Apparently, the man with beady eyes, wearing a too tight plaid polo, and a stupid smirk on his face, did not know this simple fact. No soul-reaching death stare could get him to plug in the headphones inactively hanging around his thick neck. His friend eventually came and took him to another car; however, he had the audacity to come back two hours later. He squeezed himself beside Tess, on our assigned bench, propped his feet up as if he owned the place, unplugged the headphones, and played the boisterous music once more. Maybe he thought I like the repeating resonance of screeching woman, or maybe he thought he would give me a cultural lesson. Whatever his reasoning, I did not hold back my evil stares, hoping with all my might this would help only to be disappointed.
     After a few more hours on the train, some watered down Chai to warm us up in the nippy morning breeze, and some gazing of the northern landscape of India, we pulled into the Jaipur Train Station. Hounded by the steady beats of peoples' feet constantly moving over the various platforms and connecting bridges, the sixty of us gathered together as a startled flock of fainting goats. Not many of the students had been to Jaipur before, and of course it was the first time for the American gang. After almost getting run over by a grouchy man pushing a colossal sized cart full of stuffed potato sacks, we made it into separate cabs. We were transferred to the Bluebird hotel. This was not the original hotel we were meant to stay in, but the other place backed out of the deal with our college. It was quite the bummer because this wasn't the nicest of hotels, probably the equivalent to our amazingly exquisite Red Roof Inn.

     We were placed with a third roommate, Vividha, who we got to know well over the next five days. She is such a sweet, cheerful girl. It took her a while to get used to the fact that we lived in a small room and Tess and I are pretty comfortable changing, in a modest fashion, in front of one another. The first few days when I would walk out of the shower/toilet combination bathroom in a towel, she would bashfully turn her head and cover her eyes. By the end of the week, she was less shy than the two of us. Believe it or not, women look the same all over the world, including India.
     That afternoon we met up with a bunch of girls dying to take us shopping. We split up in different rickshaws knowing we needed the guidance of native speakers. I ended up spending the day with Lubna and Priya, and

I thought these were gorgeous, and they were all over the place.

I'm positive they have Helen and Morgan beat when it comes to shopping and spending money, not the greatest of influences. We looked at every sari shop, which there were more of those on the strip than upset 49er fans after the super bowl. Then, there were bangle bracelet shops that blinded you at every turn, and quilt shops, and shoe shops, and stationary shops, and jewelry shops, and wall hanging shops, and food shops, and purse shops... I think you get my point. I was so turned around by the sheer complexity of the place, the chatter, the painted elephants walking by, I didn't even know where to start.
     I bought some souvenirs, but I mostly enjoyed watching the girls get excited, then act like they weren't excited, and finally haggling the price in half. Spelled phonetically, "Kit nay ki hey," means, "How much is this?" I mastered the pronunciation of this; however, the problem was once I asked the shopkeepers the question in Hindi, they would respond in Hindi, completely destroying my "I-know-what-is-going-on-here-don't-try-to-rip-me-off" attitude. On the other hand, my first trip to a fun yet overwhelming bazaar was still a success.

Lubna and Priya shopping away.

Priya and I in a temple.