| After the Monsoon by Mahealani Uchiyama
Fast-forward twenty years. Lakshmi, my "sister of the heart", and her husband Christopher invited me to travel with them on a visit back to India. They didn’t have to ask me twice! Although for years I have been drawn to India, I had no real idea of what to expect. No amount of reading could have prepared me for India’s extraordinariness. India is home to over 900 million people, who speak an unbelievable number of languages, and have a wide diversity of religions, cultures, and dress. The geography itself is diverse as well, ranging from the snow capped peaks of the Himalayas in the North, the Thar desert of Rajastan, and the palm tree shaded plains of the South. It is the world’s largest Democracy. An ancient land of fairy-tale palaces, extreme crowding, crushing poverty, and great natural beauty, the often bizarre juxtaposition of these extremes makes it advisable to simply expect the unexpected. There is a popular saying in Hindi which Lakshmi taught me that pretty much summed it up, "Darling, yehe India. Sub cooch chalta he!" "Darling, this is India. Anything goes!" We left late on the last night of August, traveling from San Francisco to New Delhi by way of Taipei and Bangkok. The journey to Delhi alone took almost thirty hours. We arrived just as the monsoon season was ending. We had only a month at our disposal. So, after getting our bearing for a few days in Delhi, India’s capitol city, we wasted no time in traveling to the town of Agra in Uttar Pradesh state, the cities of Jaipur and Udaipur in Rajasthan, and the town of Ahmadebad in Gujerat state. Karnataka is Lakshmi’s home state, and for that reason we spent the most time there visiting the towns of Mangalore, Belthungari, Manikeri, Belgaum and Bangalore. In Delhi, we stayed with Dr. Ravi and his wife Kiran, a lovely young couple related to Lakshmi who welcomed us into their home. We were so warmly received in fact, that I completely abandoned all of my latent fears and misgivings about traveling so far from home. They fed us three meals a day of the most exquisite home cooked South Indian food. At night we rolled out the mats and curled up under the ceiling fans. And they hired drivers for us and escorted us to see some of the sites of Delhi. On our first full day in India, we traveled to Old Delhi to visit the Red Fort, (Lal Qila), a huge, rust colored fortress-palace built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jehan some 400 years ago. From there we explored the Qutb Minar, which I learned is Delhi’s most famous landmark. This is a tower of some 240 feet in height built in 1199AD to celebrate the Muslim victory over Delhi’s last Hindu ruler. It is still the tallest man-made tower in India. We finished up the day by visiting the beautiful Baha’i Lotus Temple. Getting around in India is an altogether different experience than in the US Although the streets are well paved, it seems that no one observes traffic lanes. Cars, auto rickshaws, bicycles, motorcycles, trucks and busses are crammed into every available space of road, even if that means arriving at a stoplight perpendicular to the general flow of traffic. Add this to the cows, bullock carts, goats and the occasional elephant that are a common part of the daily commute. (Cows in fact are so omnipresent they are nicknamed "brake-testers"!) Entire families of five can regularly be seen defying physics by balancing on a single motorcycle. There is a constant bleeping of horns which is done not out of American-style road rage. Rather it is strictly a mechanism of self-defense. (Hey! Here I am, coming through to your left!) For just a few dollars a day, one can employ a driver who would navigate the anarchy of Indian traffic for you, wait for you as you run your errands, sight-see and have lunch, and bring you safely home at the end of the day. Even so, whenever I stepped off the curb I gave up any delusions about being in control of my own fate. The following day, our hosts hired a van to take us all to the town of Agra to see the Taj Mahal. The Taj The Taj Mahal is the seventh wonder of the world, and is indeed the main reason many tourists travel to India. It is also probably the most romantic symbol of love created by man. Carved out of It was built by Emperor Shah Jehan for his Empress Mumtaz Mahal (The Light of the Palace). She was 39 when she died in childbirth. The plan was to build a twin mausoleum in black marble on the opposite bank of the Yamuna River for the Emperor, but he was unfortunately deposed and imprisoned by his own son, Aurangzeb before construction could begin. The Emperor was instead laid to rest next to his Queen. When we arrived, the Taj Mahal was shimmering in pearl-like opalescence against gray monsoon clouds, with peals of thunder announcing its majesty. After seeing all of the tourist-oriented images of the Taj, I was surprised by the shear immensity of the structure. It wasn’t long before we all became lost in its mirage-like beauty. Wow. Didn’t know I had that in me. The Taj seems to bring that out in people.
Upon entering a typical fabric store, we took our seats on the floor mat. I delighted as the fabric-walla emptied his shelves, unfurling layer upon layer of gorgeous textiles! I learned to bargain, and bargain hard. Shopping with my Indian family also saved me from making embarrassing faux pax. For example as I was about to select a silk sari they exclaimed, "No, not that one, Mahea! That type is for an old woman." At the end of the day, exhausted and dripping in silks and hand woven cottons, we dropped our hard fought for purchases off at the tailor, to be retrieved at the end of our trip. During this time I was also getting to know more of Lakshmi’s family. Her Dad and her baby sister Deepika were with us also. They traveled up from Belgaum to visit with us during the first leg of our trip. I must admit to falling in love with little Deepika! Not only is she sweet and beautiful, she is a student of Bharata Natyam, a form of South Indian classical dance. We had many happy sessions where we shared songs and dances with each other. She insisted that I teach her to dance the Hula. I taught her to sing and dance the Hula "Papalina Lahilahi", which she practiced over and over again until she had learned it perfectly! I can’t prove it, but I’ll bet this might be the first time a Hawaiian Hula has been taught in New Delhi! Riding the Rails
I first noticed them as we were pulling out of Delhi station, three impossibly tall Indian "women" wearing spectacularly colorful sari, who, just as the train began picking up speed, suddenly ran up to the open door of our car and boarded. They went to work at each compartment; conjoling, teasing, and generally bugging the daylights out of people, until the passengers offered them a few rupees to simply go away. When they approached our compartment, I pulled my dupatta further over my head and pretended to sleep. They eventually disembarked at the next junction, presumably to board the next train back to Delhi and start the act all over again. We were also accompanied by a variety of hawkers selling snacks, children's toys, and fans. Hot chai and coffee are sold in small clay cups which after consumption were thrown out of the window guilt free, to decompose or be eaten by cows. For the most part though, we brought our own snacks and supply of water. At one point I sat next to a young lady, whose skin was the color of ebony, clothed in a coral pink salwar kameez which floated like gossamer in the passing breeze. With a warm smile that transcended the language barrier, she shared her banana chips with me. We traveled second class, which meant that we had a reserved compartment. Each compartment seats six passengers. At night time, the back rest of the lowest seat folds upward to reveal the middle bunk, which in turn is held in place by a chain extending from the upper bunk. These were an unexpectedly cozy place to spend the night, lulled to sleep as we were by the rhythmic motion of the train. At each stop, our windows became filled with young Gypsy children begging for money and food. There were beggars who swept the floor for a few rupees as well as holy men who requested alms. Musicians would come by once in a while singing folk songs and playing a type of single-headed drum. All this, and scenic India just outside the window. Rajasthan Rajasthan, Land of the Kings, is a state in W Jaipur is the capital of Rajasthan. It is known as the "Pink City" . Pink is a color associated with hospitality, and in 1876, Maharaja Ram Singh had the entire city painted to welcome the Prince of Wales. Since that time residents of the old city have been bound by law to maintain the pink facade. Our first stop was the Hawa Mahal, Palace of the Winds. This is a delicately beautiful palace with 953 win Our next stop was the Jantar Mantar, an observatory next to the City Palace. This is not an observatory in the typical Western sense, but rather it looks like a collection of sculptures, each with a different purpose, (measuring the movement of the stars, and calculating the pathways of various heavenly bodies, for instance). My favorite that day was the City Palace, a huge complex of buildings, courtyards and gardens. It is a privately owned museum which is still occupied by the current Maharaja of Jaipur and his family. The next day we visited the Fort of Amber and Jaigarh Fort. These fortified, labyrinthine palaces were both incredibly beautiful and offered spectacular views. We then watched the sun set while resting on the steps of the beautiful Lakshmi Narayana temple before returning to our hotel for drinks on the rooftop garden restaurant.
Rajasthan is one of the most visited places in India, and with good reason. There is almost too much to see and do. South India It was in Karnataka state that I became acquainted with true Indian hospitality. At each stop we stayed with branches of Lakshmi's extended family. I was warmly welcomed and made to feel completely at home. For example, we arrived in the town of Bangalore just at the beginning of a nine-day religious observance. I was thrilled to be invited to observe and participate in the preparations for the puja (ritual), which included decorating the home with rangoli (delicate floor drawings done in rice powder) and singing bhajans before the family deities. I offered a Hawaiian Oli as a prayer. In addition to accommodating my many food allergies, (somehow my being lactose intolerant and allergic to coconut never seemed like a much of a problem until I was in India) we were escorted to many beautiful natural attractions and temples, taken on picnics and excursions, and given saris and sacred images as tokens of affection and friendship.
I was delighted to see that little babies are also similarly adorned - one can never start too young! It was in the town of Belgaum that I had my one and only experience with riding on the city bus. To be honest, I had been trying to avoid the experience altogether. But finally the day came where our most practical means of transportation meant a bus ride to the commercial center of town. As expected, the crush of humanity into the sardine-can like city bus was, well, exciting. While boarding I decided that the best strategy was to simply lift up my feet and hope. One of the most surprising trends I noticed was the fact that hardly anyone Were there experiences in India that I didn't like? Of course. The crowds, the trash and litter of the big cities, the bathrooms, my constantly being stared at. My companions and I often had the experience of having a conversation with each other, only to look up to see we had been joined at close quarters by two or three complete strangers. I was annoyed by the aggressiveness of the hawkers and touts of the Northern tourist regions, and saddened by the misery of so many people living in hopeless, spirit crushing poverty. Nonetheless, India has captured me. I am enchanted by its history, its many cultures, and most of all, by its people. I have had just a glimpse of this compelling enigma. I know I will return someday.
10) Ladies in brightly colored salwars and saris riding sidesaddle behind motorcycle drivers. 9) Strolling along the streets of Bangalore in the evening, shopping by candle light. 8) The butterflies of Manikeri, and the dragon flies of Belgaum. 7) Shivana, our driver in while South India, doing morning puja in his car with incense and fresh flowers. 6) Limca soda on a hot day. 5) The death-defying thrill 4) Waking up at the break of dawn to the sound of roosters, peacocks, and the bell-ringing of the household women as they perform morning puja. 3) Sitting under the ceiling fans sharing stories and songs late into the night. 2) Being anointed with kum kum on our brow, turmeric on our temples and jasmine flowers in our hair whenever we took leave of our hosts. 1) Curling myself up in the doorframe of the family home in Belthungari at midday, listening to the monsoon rain. Photography by Lakshmi and Christopher Albright, Susie Cua and Mahea Uchiyama. |
The seed of my desire to travel to India was planted early on, during my first year of graduate school at the University of Hawai’i. Clifford and Betty True Jones, acclaimed scholars in the field of Indian performing arts, were on the Dance Ethnology faculty that year offering instruction in Mohiniyattam, a form of South Indian classical dance. Although I was a Pacific Islands Studies major, I simply couldn’t resist the opportunity to study something so different from our usual curriculum. It was there that I became acquainted with stories of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva Nataraja, the trinity of Hindu deities. I danced stories of compassionate Sita, sang shlokas (devotional hymns) to Saraswati, the goddess of learning and the arts, and was first introduced to Lord Ganesha, the remover of obstacles. Most importantly, I learned that as in Hawai’i, the dance of India is intrinsically connected to the recognition and worship of God.
translucent white marble and bejeweled by semiprecious stones, the Taj takes on a different appearance with each movement of the sun. Rose-tinted in the dawn light, shimmering in majestic grandeur during midday, a crimson flame in the glow of sunset, glistening white against the moonlit sky. Neither a palace nor a monument to a victory, the Taj is a mausoleum for a much beloved Queen.
On our last day in Delhi we went on a shopping expedition that could probably qualify as an Olympic event. We went to Delhi’s main market, a bustling maze of shops full of household goods, clothing, sweets, and curios. Our mission that day, however, was fabric. Delhi is known for its enormous selection of beautiful fabrics. Store after store was piled with shelves of Indian textiles sold in three piece sets appropriate for designing the Salwar Kameez, which is the ubiquitous dress and trousers garment worn by many Indian women. I learned several things that day. For instance, it doesn’t pay to buy ready-made garments – it is more expensive that way and they rarely fit well. Rather, most women purchase the fabric set and have it sewn to precise specification. I also learned that various parts of India are known for the quality of different items – Bangalore for silver anklets, Belgaum for beautiful silk saris, Belthungari for fine gold jewelry, and so on.
I had been told that a journey on the Indian Rail System would provide the most vivid glimpse of the "real India". I wasn't disappointed. Not only is the system a reliable way to travel the entire country, it provides an opportunity to meet some very colorful fellow passengers. It was on the Ashram Express to Jaipur for example, that I had my first face to face encounter with a hejra.
estern India which was once comprised of small, independent principalities. This is the romantic and colorful India of legend, with stunning palaces, vast deserts, and a strong, proud people descended from warrior clans. Rajasthani people fill their lives with color and adornment. One could easily spend months in Rajasthan alone exploring ancient forts, national parks, temple complexes and art emporiums. We had only a few days in Rajasthan, and as it was the first visit there for all of us, we tried to make the most of our time.
dows looking out onto one of the busiest streets of the old city. It was originally constructed to allow the ladies of the royal family to look out, unobserved, onto the street below. The Hawa Mahal is probably the best known of Jaipur's many landmarks.
Udaipur is known as the "Venice of the East", because of its numerous palaces set about and within Lake Pichola. After spending the morning palace-hopping, we took a sunset cruise on the lake. On the way back to our hotel, we overheard music and followed it to an outdoor restaurant being entertained by a group of Rajasthani dancers!
I had long before noticed that every woman, however rich or poor she may be, is adorned in jewelry; earrings, nose rings, necklaces, bracelets made of gold and often embedded with precious stones. I subsequently learned that this is because women symbolically represent the Goddess Lakshmi, the bringer of wealth, and that gold represents prosperity. It is because gold is so respected that Indian ladies do not wear gold on their feet, but rather anklets and toe rings made of silver. All of this adornment produces a most wonderful and omnipresent jingle-jangle, as ladies go about their daily routine.
expected me to be from the United States. There are of course many African students residing in the various college towns, but there was another force at work; that being the omnipresence of American media. American television programs and motion pictures are very popular in India. These are often the only introduction to American culture for millions of Indian people. I think it is indeed a telling point that because of this exposure I, and other Americans of African descent, simply do not exist in the minds of close to 100 million people.
My Top Ten Favorite Indian Memories
of commuting by auto-rickshaw.