Blue-City Soul

"Oh, I'm sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me. Really? Right into me? Okay, fine…"

This what I say to the cows as I walk down the street. They are very busy and have important trash to eat, so courtesy isn't their main concern. However, they seem more aware of the pedestrians and traffic than many of the people are.

Like Mumbai, you never know whose poop it is on the ground – but rest assured it's there. The narrow, windy streets lined with blue homes in the old town barely leave enough room for a motorcycle and a person to pass and when a cow is involved, everyone has to work their way around.

A quick walk down one of these narrow streets yesterday took us to the entrance of the Jodhpur Fort – which is the star attraction of town. The amazingly beautiful red stone fort was begin in the 15th century, but not completed into its modern form until the early 17th century.

The 5 square kilometer fort has smooth, handcrafted walls topped with almost decorative turrets. With intricate towers and layers of beautifully designed structures cascading down the hillsides, the Jodhpur Fort is as much of a work of art as it is the definition of the original city. Inside the fort are more works of art including numerous palaces, monuments, temples and the glory of an ancient royal city.

Below in the old town, is a mixture of blue and reddish-brown buildings roughly the color of the fort that towers above them.

Our Sunday explorations had us walking around town to get the feel of the place – as we so often like to do when we reach somewhere new. It turns out that when you pass a few cows, round a few hairpin turns and make your way down some extremely old-feeling streets, you hit the new town on the other side of the fort. That's the seat of the real chaos.

We passed through this "Kathmandu Lite" in search of our desired lunch establishment and as in Kathmandu, I developed my mildly shocked and horrified visage. That receded when we reached the central part of town in which there are some older structures including a clock tower, old market and a reservoir in a beautifully Rajasthani designed structure.

Still, that didn't occupy the bulk of the city. As we walked through the not so attractive new town, everyone we talked to asked us how long we would be in Jodhpur. When we told them we would stay a week, each and every person looked shocked. Apparently, there isn't that much to do and see here and tourists usually tour the highlights and then move on to other Rajasthani cities.

Given how we work during the week, we'll hit those spots slowly – stringing Jodhpur's wonders out to make a feast of the seemingly modest ingredients. To that end, we saved the fort for next Saturday and the giant palace on the outskirts of town for later in the week.

From the comfort of our beautiful guest house, we can work comfortably in our giant suite and go up to the roof decks to view the sea of blue houses – which along with the spectacular fort, seems to be Jodhpur's great trademark.

Arphan, one of our guesthouse owners informed us that Jodhpur's other outstanding feature is practically invisible to tourists and not aimed to the visual senses.

"People here like to talk," Arphan told us. "They go to talk rooms or chat rooms to sit and talk. They talk, talk about everything – the weather, politics, their families…everything. They love to talk."

"So, it's like a coffee house?" Emily asked.

"Yes, but there is no coffee."

"So, does someone sell chai or food?"

"No, no tea or food – people just go to these rooms and talk."

"So, it's like a park? But indoors?"

"Yes, like that," he said.

In fact, many people in old Jodhpur settle for government or other jobs which are steady, but pay only modest amounts because they want to finish their workdays as quickly as possible and then go home and talk. Arphan says they see their lives largely about discussing things.

"They don't travel, they don't go anywhere – they just want to talk. But they are happy."

Fair enough. I like to travel AND talk – so, I can somewhat relate.

Listening to the sounds of the city, the people of Jodhpur do indeed talk around the clock. Loudly. They also chant, yell, scream, cry, drive loud vehicles and have frequent difficulties with angry dogs and stubborn camels.

While I personally haven't dealt with any of the camels – and camels are a small minority compared to cows – I have learned that they are not to be messed with. Camels are expressive and seem to get pissed easily. They probably are in the chat rooms a lot.

Northern India is a shock after weeks in Kerala. It gets cold at night – and especially cold in our room. The building is made of limestone and insulation isn't really something Indians have. Arphan has portable heaters we can have for an extra room charge, but they do nothing in our large suite, he told us. It's all about the blankets. During the day, it's much warmer outside than in our cavernous room – not that we don't still love our suite.

Here in the north, the streets are noisy, people don't speak as much English, the air is dry, the cows walk – and sleep – in the streets and there's just a rougher edge to life. Even Mumbai was softer and smoother.

But there's a rich, historic culture here. You see it the large, intricately designed blue buildings with their hand carved wooden upstairs windows. It's clear looking up at a fort that has seen at least 400 years of wars, royalty, and changes in its city. You hear it when people gather around a neighborhood temple for a memorial service – chanting in unison at the top of their lungs.

And it's most recognizable when watching the many grandfathers sitting out on their porches with their young grandchildren – talking and playing with them, passing on the many intangibles that link generations and sustain peoples.

You may have to watch where you step, but Jodhpur has a soul.

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