Dec. 6, 2011 Bundi

Gate to the City Palace

I arrived in Bundi at 11 pm and went to my chosen guest house.  Lonely Planet should be ashamed of themselves for recommending this place!  Between the dirty sheets that I made them get out of bed and change, and the nasty communal toilet, I hardly know what to say.  I can say I didn't get much sleep as the owner, a rather large disheveled woman, shouted to the help on the next floor through the overhead grate earlier than anyone should be waking the guests.  The only good news is that it only cost me 150 Rupees; approx. $3.00.



City Palace

 After walking the town in search of a decent hotel, I got my bag and checked into the Haveli Tarragarh Palace, a lovely old haveli with marble staircases and slick tile floors located below the city palace, which is the view from my window.  At 250 Rupees, it's a much better deal with a private bath, hot water shower, clean sheets (yes, 2 sheets as they normally only have a bottom sheet and blanket), and a towel. I opened the shutter style window to be greated by a Macaque monkey baring its teeth at me...I guess we suprised each other! 

After a shower, food, and a nap, I went out to explore Bundi, a town of approx. 89,000 inhabitants.  I headed toward the sound of drums beating as the Muslim celebration of Moram began.  I have never been a huge fan of percussion, but the drumming demonstrations were brilliant.  There were young boys & teenagers beating small drums, large bass drums, and kettle drums.  They twirled around in step with the bass drums and very energetically beat the kettle drums covered in camel hide, with hair still attached where it had not been beaten off.  The conductor/teacher did a fabulous job both teaching and motivating the boys who ranged in age from seven to seventeen.  When I caught his eye, I gave him a thumbs-up and he smiled.  After the performance, he came over to shake my hand...so sweet!

I stood on the ledge next to the police station with the policemen (a nice safe place) above the crowd.  There were only a few other westerners at the parade, mostly with large cameras; it was a local religious event not particularly for tourists.  The floats consisted of large mosques made from paper mache, cardboard, and aluminum foil with minarets topped by the quarter moon and star of the Muslim faith.  Old men with small grandchildren in their arms, women in saris nursing babies, vendors selling sweets, young girls with heads covered, men with henna died beards, all touched the floats and brought their hands over their faces, symbolizing bringing the light of the devine to open their eyes to the teachings of Allah.  It was a spectacle not to be missed as it happens only once a year.  I felt lucky to have been here to experience it first hand.  Of course, I forgot my camera....