The child who took the silk factory tour barefoot - because she lost one shoe out of the autorickshaw - which upset only her mother. After all, all the workers were barefoot.
This one's for you, Kate - I thought Shawn should have asked for permission, but he didn't. Tit for tat....
Bet they didn't wake up and think "Gee, think I'll go bathe at the river and hope that my picture will be plastered on the internet today." Another one for you, Kate!
Still waiting to try this one. Either it has to be a very small bridge, or a very big foot.
We took the Shotabhi Express back to Chennai - it was fabulous. They kept feeding and feeding us, and no one got sick from the food. Whew.
Traveller's tip: the Mysore train station has a first-class waiting room (one for gents, one for ladies, in fact) with CLEAN restrooms.
Now the Chennai train station....well.....if I told you, you wouldn't believe it.
Driving home we saw the funniest thing. A man, on a horse (even in Chennai horses are rarely seen), holding a bag of grain in front of him on the pommel, in the middle of a hugely busy intersection. I will forever have this etched in my memory - the horse twitching nervously, surrounded by every kind of motorized traffic imaginable; the rider, urging him on while clutching his sack of grain.
My FAVORITE part of our visit to Mysore was visiting the silk factory. My oh my! Sans camera (had to be left at security ), we wandered around the factory, completely on our own - through the silk spinning room; the twisting room (twisting two strands into one); the warp room (giant machines threaded with hundreds of spools of silk created the background, or warp, ready for weaving); the weaving room, where the weft is added to create the fabrice; and then on to the washing, dyeing, and ironing rooms. It was fascinating. I loved it. Can I say that again? I loved it. Even if it was ear-shatteringly noisy.
Mysore is famous for a soft, thin silk that holds its color for decades. We were lucky and there was a large display tent outside the factory where a pretty girl who spoke English explained the process of making silk, complete with photos and silkworm cocoons. Sadly it was a temporary display.
S enjoyed it also because he found an inlaid coffee table at the handicraft exhibit. It must be 5'X3" - but he got it on the train. Not in the luggage compartment either - they took the legs off, wrapped everything up good, and it rode in the first class compartment in the overhead luggage bin. I couldn't believe it.
The Lalitha Mahal was originally built to house visiting dignitaries. It nestles in the foothills on the outskirts of town, and, from afar, looks remarkably like the White House. Today it is still in the hosting business - as a five-star hotel. We took an autorickshaw there to sample the lunch menu, and got an informal tour of the most famous rooms. According to our guide (one of the custodial staff, I believe), we saw the "King's room" which housed Steven Seagall and Princess Diana, as well as a couple of Nehrus; and also the "Princess's room". Like everything else in India they are in need of some minor repairs, but splendiforous even in their run-down state. All antiques and ginormous rooms, with canopy beds and flat-screen TVs.
The Green Hotel bills itself as an ecologically friendly, environmentally conscious hotel. That is not why I chose it. I chose it because it was relatively inexpensive and it is a renovated palace - the former residence of the Maharaja's daughters, when they wanted a break from the main palace. Overall it was charming - lovely ambience, nice staff, interesting library, and great food. (The bakery staff were trained by the frenchman who runs "La Boulangerie" here in Chennai.)
It is a mark of our years in India that the fact that it did not have electricity 80% of the time didn't even phase us. I had packed flashlights (along with my mace and plenty of toilet tissue), and the hotel provided candles for free.
What they lacked in electric (generators are baaaad for the environment), they made up for with all the lovely solar hot water you could use. And a bathtub. Candlelit baths all around.
Last weekend S had a business trip to Mysore, a city of about one million people in the neighboring state of Karnataka. He and L have been there before, on their motorcycle trip, but J and I had not seen the "city of palaces". By dint of much persuasion (no, wait, it was really because I wasn't paying close enough attention to what he was saying), he got me to agree to go with him on the overnight train.
Here I am, sick with fear. Of what? I'm not sure. It was a combination of "what ifs?"...."what if the train wrecks?" (there was a train accident in Delhi that very day that claimed over 25 lives); "what if someone steals all of our belongings?" (has happened to friends); "what if our bunkmates snore?" (shared compartments); "what if the train is infested with bedbugs/roaches/ants/lice"....anyway, nothing happened. We had very nice fellow passengers and I amused everyone by pretending to be Mr. Monk and using Chlorox wipes to clean the vinyl bed and surroundings.
And I did not use the toilet. Because they go straight.down.to.the.tracks. Yep, just a hole.
After a bumpy but pleasant night's sleep we arrived at Mysore and checked into the Green Hotel.
Disclaimer: these are entirely my own biased perceptions and my intent is not to educate you about the entire Indian culture. My intent is solely to express my anger at this social injustice.
I feel personally that creativity is one of the keys to happiness in life. Any way to make the world a more beautiful place is soul-satisfying.
One of the best qualities about India is the creativity of its people. I have never seen such ingenuity. Within their own framework, albeit different and limited by some western standards, they do marvellous works. I especially love what they do with textiles - the amazing colors, embroidery, and design astonish me. I still feel that the sari is the most feminine, elegant garment I have ever seen worn by women (although I can't properly wear it myself. )
Every time I go shopping for clothing here I look at the saris and think of the beautiful quilts, draperies, and other things that could be made out of that much fabric. I finally succumbed and made some pillows - my own attempt at creating - using the sari pallau (elaborate fold that falls down the back) and trim:
Part of the pallau (diamond patterned fabric), and some of the sari trim, paired with some brown silk.
More detail from a different part of the pallau.
Very American - patchwork with ruffles (made from the sari border). The grey is the original sari color; the brown, a separate fabric that goes with our couch. As always, the ruffles took forever!
I've saved the very best for last. This place is run by two Germans who've lived here 30 years. They do an outstanding job restoring and refinishing old furniture, as well as custom-make just about anything you'd want to buy.