Jodhpur, the Blue City

Emerging all gritty from a very sandy overnight train ride, we arrived in the desert city of Jodhpur. A pimped-out auto rickshaw took us to our hotel, navigating through the increasingly narrower maze-like lanes until even the small vehicle couldn’t squeeze through anymore. After a much-needed shower, we climbed more stairs of the narrow building up to the rooftop. The dawn light cast its spell over the huge Meherangarh fort dominating the hill above us. Small birds sweetly filled the cool morning air. As in Jaisalmer, the flat-roofed 16th century buildings carpeted the upward-sloping land, with successive rows reaching ever higher. As the sun rose, the periwinkle blue used on so many of Jodhpur’s buildings also changed color. On one rooftop some boys practiced sword-fighting and martial arts moves, waving to us and showing off their skills. On another roof, a man nervously paced back and forth on his cell phone. A woman hung out her first load of laundry. An older gentleman sat on his chair, taking in all the scenes and checking to see what his neighbors were doing. In a city with few open spaces and no grass, the rooftop was the place to be.

One afternoon was all that was needed to see the old city. I was careful to note some signs and other markers so I could later retrace my steps back through the maze to our hotel. Narrow open sewers flowed, sloping downward, sometimes blocked by garbage. Thankfully the welcome scents of varying spices typically overpowered any sewer smell. In the Sadar Market surrounding the clock tower, piles of bangles were sold next to household plastics and carefully arranged local fruits. Spice shops consisted of local and tourist varieties, with an amazing number claiming to have been mentioned in The Lonely Planet guidebook. Stalls specialized in garlic; others displayed flowing fabric in various warm hues. The bells of the clock tower chimed. At other times the call-to-prayer was heard coming from a mosque. Jain temples and Hindu temples with white gopurams (in contrast to the ornate colorful ones found on temples of Tamil Nadu) were scattered throughout the city. That evening we walked through the shop stalls, where a large number of shops displayed neatly folded piles of turban fabric. Red, yellow and pink seemed to be the dominant colors, although tan, white, and rainbow ones were also found. Each color represents a certain caste. According to a website, the Pagari style is around 25 m (82 feet) and 20 cm (8 inches) wide. It was fun watching men expertly tying their turbans, rotating the turban slightly each time a round was completed until no cloth was left. Having read that the jooti slippers were made in Jodhpur, we searched through the shops until we found some that sold the colorful footwear. Finding some slippers in my big size was a challenge, but finally I found a pair. Alas, the shopkeeper wanted too much (only going down to $3.50), but he agreed to our lower price when we accidentally walked past his shop again.

See more photos of Jodhpur on Flickr

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