Week Nine - Monkeys, Ikea & Petting Cows at a Birthday Party

At 6:00 Monday morning, we woke up to a monkey migration.

Our room in Bundi had enormous old single-pane windows looking over the rooftops toward the palace, castle and forest-covered hills. Every evening, hundreds of monkeys make their way down through town toward the lake. At dawn, they head home.

So there we were, barely awake, watching monkeys stream across rooftops, balconies, walls and power lines toward the hills. Mothers carried babies, young ones launched themselves between buildings, groups stopped to fight, and others sat on ledges like commuters waiting for the next train. There are mornings in Toronto when we wake up, make coffee and check the weather. In Bundi, apparently, we watch hundreds of monkeys commute home.

A little later, all five of us headed up to explore the palace and castle looming over town. Jack came too, which was a pretty big deal. It was the first sightseeing site he had joined us for since the Taj. Bundi turned out to be perfect for him. There was no guide, almost nobody else around, and no prescribed route. We could simply wander. We found bats in dark passages, partially restored paintings, incredible ceilings and even some very old toilets. Nothing brings a family together like ancient plumbing.

From above, Bundi almost made sense. Blue houses, the lake, a maze of streets and surrounding hills. Down below, cows, pigs, monkeys, motorbikes, people and tuk-tuks all compete for the same six feet of road.

Then we went back down into it. We hired a local tuk-tuk driver and all five of us climbed in, confirming that five people fit comfortably enough in a tuk-tuk. Having spent several months in India, we also know five is merely an opening bid. Actual capacity appears to be determined by optimism.

Our driver took us around Bundi’s wells, stepwells and other sites. The Queen’s Stepwell was mostly covered and locked, but another baori was open with tortoises swimming in it. We saw the 84-column cenotaph and a little museum full of fragments of columns and stonework dating back centuries. We had become weirdly interested in ancient Indian water management after Amber Fort.

Jack had not. Partway through, he announced that he had seen enough and would prefer water in its more modern form. The hotel pool.

This was where having your own tuk-tuk became brilliant. We sent Jack and Vishal back to the hotel and told the driver to come back for us. Gen, Alessia and I carried on. A little while later, the tuk-tuk reappeared. India logistics.

By late afternoon Bundi was filling for Kajli Teej, a local festival that happen every August 30th and was the actual reason for us coming here. Everyone had told us the procession would start around 6:30.

Meanwhile, a colleague in Hyderabad had connected me with his brother-in-law, Jitendra. He called during the day and asked how long we were in Bundi. When I told him we were leaving the next morning, he immediately informed me that I had barely scratched the surface. We needed to see this, this and this, and then I should come to his house for dinner. I had known him for less than a minute. It was one of the warmest examples yet of the Indian hospitality we keep encountering.

We eventually settled on him meeting us at the hotel at 6:00 p.m. to watch the festival.

Six came and went.

So did 6:30.

Seven.

Eight.

At 8:30 Jitendra arrived. The procession started almost exactly then. Every single person in town had told us 6:30. Nobody else seemed remotely confused. India worked perfectly. Everyone was in on the joke except us.

Jitendra arrived with his father, father-in-law and 18-month-old child. All four of them had come on two motorbikes.

Meanwhile, Gen and Alessia had somehow landed on a makeshift balcony with members of Bundi’s royal family. Because apparently that was an option.

Jack was asleep at the hotel and Gen wanted to stay close in case he woke up, so the balcony was perfect. The fact that it came with royalty was a bonus. The former royal family owns the hotel, and there is a whole rabbit hole involving the previous ruler dying without an heir, a disputed bloodline and the succession eventually being settled in 2022. Gen and Alessia had been in Bundi for about 48 hours and were already sitting with royalty.

I went down to street level with Jitendra and his family. Then the procession hit. Drums, lights, dancers, floats, religious figures, decorated animals, thousands of people and performers painted head to toe like lizard people. We had started the morning with commuting monkeys. By nightfall we had lizard people. Bundi was showing range. I took pictures like crazy and quickly realized I was becoming almost as interesting to the crowd as the elephant. As far as I could tell, I was the only white guy in town. People waved, stared and wanted photos. I suspect there are now families in Bundi showing relatives pictures of the strange Canadian they saw at Kajli Teej.

Eventually the procession moved deeper into town. Jitendra’s father and father-in-law took the baby home. I looked at Jitendra.

“Want to follow it?”

Of course he did. We jumped in. It ended up being one of my favourite experiences of Rajasthan. We followed the procession through increasingly narrow streets while I took pictures and Jitendra somehow kept track of where we were. Four kilometres later, we caught up with the elephant. Success.

Then I finally thought to ask: “How do we get back?” Jitendra smiled. We were going to his house. So he got me there after all.

His father-in-law eventually met us on a motorbike and we headed over. I negotiated firmly for coffee only because we had an early morning.

Then I met the entire family. Jitendra showed me around until we reached one bedroom.

“This is where my 95-year-old grandfather sleeps.”

“Don’t wake him.”

We woke him. So late at night, after following an elephant four kilometres through a Rajasthani festival, I found myself beside the bed of a very sleepy 95-year-old man introducing myself. Jitendra saw nothing unusual about this. “It is good to introduce old people to new people. It keeps them young.” Fair enough. Sorry, Grandpa.

Eventually it was time to leave. His father, Jitendra and I climbed onto one motorbike. Three grown men. One bike. I was in the middle. No helmets. Man sandwich. Totally safe. Bundi had put in a full day.

Tuesday we started the long trip back toward Jaipur, stopping in Tonk. Tonk was almost impressively uneventful. After Bundi, we drove around looking at the quiet streets and started laughing about just how far off the beaten path we had wandered.

We stopped at an old summer palace where the king once held performances. Everyone needed the bathroom. We warned Jack it would be Indian-style and pointed him through an open door. I nside was a bucket. Bathroom. Bucket. Don’t pee on the floor. Jack assessed the available evidence and peed in the bucket. Unfortunately, there was another closed door he was supposed to go through. In his defence, Alessia had been in before him and come back asking, “There’s only a bucket in there. Where am I supposed to pee?” Vishal helped us apologize profusely to the keeper. Sometimes navigating India means understanding centuries of culture and tradition. Sometimes it means finding the actual toilet door.

At the airport, our driver apologized for the rough start to the trip, including the small matter of watching movies while driving. We appreciated it. By the end he had been patient with Jack, managed a very long Rajasthan loop and got everyone where they needed to go. This trip keeps reminding us that most people around you are pretty good. They try, they adjust and they surprise you.

Then we flew home. Home was Hyderabad. Saying that still feels strange.

Wednesday was wonderfully ordinary.

Thursday was less so. Gen and Alessia went for high tea at the Taj Falaknuma Palace. The setting was spectacular. The food was…fine. There were some questionable sandwich combinations and, rather unforgivably, a stale Battenberg cake.

They had missed the scheduled palace tour, so when tea ended Gen asked if there was any chance they could still see inside. Apparently there was. One of the staff very kindly took them on a private walk-through. They saw the enormous billiards table copied from one at Windsor Palace, a dining table that seats 101 of your closest friends, and furniture customized for the last Nizam, who was short. His chair, shower and other pieces were apparently designed to provide a little additional altitude. The stale Battenberg was forgiven.

Another useful lesson from India: ask. Sometimes nothing happens. Sometimes you get a private tour of a palace.

Thursday also brought a considerably less regal discovery - Discount eyewear. Glasses and contacts seem to cost about 40 percent of what we would pay in Toronto, so naturally we all got outfitted. Alessia’s glasses wouldn’t be ready before she left, meaning I now need a colleague flying to Toronto who is willing to become an eyeglass mule. Apparently this is why multinational corporations have global mobility programs.

Friday was Alessia’s last day. We started with a family walk through the Botanical Gardens and 2 foot long dosa at Naani’s. A female version of Leo followed us for about 20 minutes, so naturally we named her She-O. I vetoed another pet.

Then Alessia had one final Hyderabad request.

IKEA.

We had taken this child across Rajasthan. The Taj Mahal. Amber Fort. Palaces. Bazaars. Festivals. Stepwells. Monkeys. Elephants. Her final request in India was IKEA. So off we went. She bought a few things, including a brass elephant. We now have matching IKEA elephants, one in Hyderabad and one back in Toronto. Which is actually kind of lovely. It is also hilarious that after nearly two weeks travelling around India, her Indian souvenir came from Sweden.

Then we took her to the airport. That part was harder. Seeing Alessia had made us homesick for the first time since arriving. For a couple of weeks, a little piece of home had been here with us. She saw the Taj and Rajasthan, but she also got to see our Hyderabad. Our apartment, our favourite food, the Botanical Gardens and some of the people who are becoming part of our lives here. She loved it. Such a great kid. We were already planning her return in December, but watching her disappear through security still made Toronto feel very far away.

And yes, she got upgraded. Again. At this point Alessia appears to have decided economy is something she did when she was younger.

Later that evening, Gen and I went to celebrate Krishna’s birthday while Jack stayed home with Vishal. There were cows, kids taking swings at what was essentially a butter-pot piñata and a series of rituals we were still figuring out as we went. A young girl explained why Krishna stole the butter. Inside, people explained the pots and the mixtures of milk, honey and herbs used in the ceremony. Then they invited us in.

Gen and I each poured milk over baby Krishna and gently rocked him in his swing.

Right in the middle of the ceremony, we ended up beside Guru-G. He speaks very little English. We speak very little useful Hindi. So out came Google Translate. While everything carried on around us, Guru-G and I passed the phone back and forth discussing Canada, India and what everything costs. Apparently a religious ceremony is also an excellent time for an international cost-of-living comparison.

Then someone from monkey yoga invited Gen and Irina to a wedding for what we think is one of Hyderabad’s billionaire families. Apparently there could be around 10,000 guests.

Ten thousand???

At this point, explaining how Gen ended up on the guest list requires a flowchart.

Saturday was Teachers’ Day, and Lekshmi, who owns Jack’s school, invited parents in to experience some of what they do with the kids. In Canada, an invitation involving an hour of movement meditation would have found us suddenly very busy with other plans. Here, our rule has become: say yes. So we did. We spent an hour doing eurythmy, working with movement and our senses until somehow we ended up doing a little square dance. There is apparently Instagram evidence. Then Lekshmi gave us eight emotions to represent with colour and connect to experiences in our lives. What sounded simple became surprisingly emotional for several parents. More importantly, we spent time with the other families and got another glimpse into Jack’s world there.

We really did find the right school. They genuinely seem to like Jack, and he seems at home. With Vishal, we have him doing half-days, and it has turned out to be almost the perfect balance. That has been a huge relief.

Saturday then ended with Gen spending roughly two hours trying to find something to wear to Sunday’s wedding. The 10,000-person wedding. Eventually she found something.

My Big Fat Indian Wedding will be in next our week’s update!

Bundi Festival…Elephant leading the way…

Rocking Baby Krishna…