Jaipur

After a quick couple orientations at the IDEX Jaipur office, the organization overseeing the coordination of ours and many Indian volunteer programs, we were whisked away via tuktuk through the chaotic streets of central Jaipur to our overnight accomodation.



The five bedroom, three bathroom house, complete with in-house cook, was three stories (two of them featuring balconies/rooftop lounges) and beautiful. Situated in a gated community about a twenty minute's tuktuk drive south of the city walls, its neighborhood boasted many large houses lining a narrow street patrolled by a watchman who would use his alarm whistle enthusiastically all night (whether or not there was anything in particular to be whistling about can only be speculated).



Our neighborboy, Rabie, spoke very understandable English and showed us far off sights of the city from atop his house. Two of the houses next to ours, he said, were occupied by the families of policemen. According to various fellow travelers and the IDEX staff, the Indian police are an entirely corrupt organization. Bribery is more the rule than the exception and, based on our neighbor's homes, quite a profitable venture for a highly regarded occupation.

Our housemates for the night were three girls (two British and one Irish) who played the role of proper hostesses. We enjoyed a large dinner of curry spiced potatoes and a boiled egg filled soup, japarti (tortillas), rice, vodka and Coca-Cola.

Apart of IDEX's latest volunteering initiative, they had already been teaching English in one of the greater Jaipur area slums for between eight and four weeks (one of the UK girls had been the lone Jaipur volunteer for three of her first weeks). The girls gave us tips and talked about some of their more memorable times and misadventures in India. They hailed us a tuktuk and skillfully bartered in Hindi to lower the driver's asking price from it's initial foreigner level to a fairer price. We all loaded into the small sized autorickashaw and went off into the city's not-as-lively-as-you'd-think nightlife, pointing out the quirks and laughable sights along the way (shitty hotels named after American things, constant stares by nearby drivers, etc). We drank coffee and teas at an air conditioned touristy coffee stop called 'Barista' ("Escape to Italy!") and talked some more. I have come to realize that any group of three or more European girls in India have a knack for both talking and talking some more.

That night we hung out on the roof, lounging to the sounds of the far off crazy streets under the haze of Indian development. Tea lights were lit, the Smirnoff was finished, half a pack of bidis were smoked, and for the first time (though not the last during the weeks to come) I found myself wondering how I had fallen into such a bizarre yet enjoyable situation.