Orchha 3:

On our second-to-last day in Orchha, we were invited to visit the guest house manager's grandfather in a village 5 kms away. This time, the ride was not free so we added a few rupees to hire the autorickshaw again. The countryside is really a wonderful sight to behold, especially with the rickshaw driver playing pulsing Indian dance tunes and cheesy love songs as a soundtrack for the trip. The sight of side-view mirror pompoms flapping in the breeze as we pass by wheat fields and swerve by herds of goats, it's enough to make me smile.

We were taken to the temple, where there's a holy pool only for the god, and we could only dip our fingers to ask for a favor.

The cute boy is an orphan they found on the street,
and now he's part of the family.

Ragu/Maharaj, the manager's younger brother, introduced us to his cousins and his grandfather - who's in his 80s and still works in the field. Later, I realized why they said he goes there in his bike; his legs were damaged by polio, and he walks with his arms.

Meanwhile, grandma was busy making chapatis for everyone.

Actually, when they gave us some food to eat, his grandma kept making chapatis for us and we were so stuffed because she wouldn't stop! Olivier asked them to switch off grandma, but they couldn't.

Sharma, the cousin who inherited the farm land, took us to the field to show us his crops. He had ginger, chili, peanuts, eggplants, potatoes and more. Everything they eat comes from what they grow; so the money they earn, they don't use so often.

This time, it was Henri's turn to make the chapati. So cute!

Aklesh and Deva were around to do the chopping, while Ragu (as usual) added generous amounts of salt.

After lunch, Sharma took us back to his house to see his newborn, Anya, who just came home from the hospital.

On the trip back, his brother offered to take me on the motorbike until the crossroads, of course, I couldn't understand because they have a habit of talking to us in Hindi. Pero syempre hindi ko maintindihan (but of course, I couldn't understand). It was great to be on the bike and be able to look all around, unencumbered, as the sun made its slow descent behind the mountains. Sharma's brother didn't go faster than 45 kph so I didn't fear for my life.

The day after that we went back to see Puja and her family. 

It was Laurianne and Olivier's turn to get henna tattoos; Puja's dad gave them bidis to smoke.

I made a yin-yang for Henri, and Puja gave him a nice warrior band on the arm.

Then Puja's brother, Manoj, invited the boys for a short ride around town. He had just learned how to drive and now he can work part time as a car-for-hire driver.

Us girls waited for them at the rooftop, where we realized there were a few more temples to discover, just behind Puja's house!

We were very fortunate to meet Chinku and throuh him, Puja and Manoj. On our last night, Henri invited them to dinner and Manoj proposed to drive us to the train station AT 6 IN THE MORNING the next day. It had been a bit of a problem for us because the rickshaws were charging a hundred, and the cars were charging five hundred, while tempos (like jeepneys that wait to be full before leaving) might be cheap, but hard to come by especially on a Monday at the end of Diwali. But aside from that, their gestures to help were a way to show us that not every one we meet is out to hit us for money. There are good people out there, you just have to stay a while and wait for them to come out of the woodwork.

Orchha 2: Diwali na Lang Kaya

Like many cities and villages in India, Orchha is full of holy cows, fighting bulls, altitude-loving goats, and the occasional newborn calf...

that likes to chase down tourists. Kids these days, tsh.

I was walking once, and a cow head-butted my hip. Just your ordinary, average day, I guess.

On one of our lazy days, we decided to see the other temple ruins.

From the river and back to the guest house, we walked about two or three kilometers under the burning sun -

dodging grasshoppers through fields of wild mint.

Until an old woman found us and started talking to us in Hindi. She shook hands with me and never let my hand go until we reached her hut.

The kid turned Henri into a human amusement ride.

All work was abandoned for the day -

look at the faux fur on the seat! that's traveling in style!

It was the day before Diwali eve and people from Ganj village were getting their houses ready for the festival with new paint, and a new cover of poo-clay on the front steps...

which are sometimes decorated with colorful chalk... just like the animals. There's a cow with blue horns walking daily in front of Didi's Cafe, a pink polka-dot cow in the main thoroughfare, and a violet-spotted white goat out in the field.

But some people still have a some work to finish, and quick!

She carries wet red clay on her head while men put rocks on top.
Women mostly handle the cement here.

We walked up to the gates of Orchha and turned back just a few minutes before sunset.

The next day, I got a haircut for 20 rupees. It was a very bad one, but I felt lighter after I left 4 inches of my hair on the barber's chair.

We were separated from the others who had important stuff to do, and while wandering around in the market, we found Chinku again. After days of asking me if I wanted mendhi or get henna tattooed, I finally said yes. He bought the henna for me and I didn't have to pay for anything!

He introduced us to Puja and her family; and she gave me and Henri special tattoos as a gift.

On my left hand, Puja wrote I love you and H.P.M - Henri, Puja, Marj...
But her initial is in the heart of my husband's!!!! Hahahaha!

My arms were still a bit wet when we rejoined the other French couples for a walk around the palace gardens to look for more temple ruins and we found quite a number with squatters living inside. We found our way to the river and had to jump over a suspiciously green creek.

At the end of the little path through the forest was the Bundelkhand Hotel, the former home of the royal family. We had some Indian chai and a little tour around the complex.

They had a really nice view of the river and the palaces, and to be honest, I was tempted to get a suite because the mattress was really good and the bathrooms, impeccably clean... but the rooms don't have TV, and I need my nightly Amazing Race marathon!

When we went back down to the real world, the shops were beginning to close, and it was only an hour before sunset. 

Everybody wanted to be home in time for puja (offering ceremony) at home. We were invited to puja at the guest house so we wanted to be back early, too.

Sweet shops and marigold stands were doing well, but it was the firecracker stall that I think did the most business. One rocket was supposed to sell for 1,000 Rs each!

Radha and Pinkey, the samosa girls from the market, followed me hoping I could buy them some pataka or firecrackers, but I told them I don't approve of burning money like that. The kid in white to the right of me had the gumption to say "you no have money, you no come to India!" What a beeyatch.

It was a relief to get back to the guest house for a little party on the roof top. We bought some drinks and shared them with the boys. It was obvious that Raj/Deva was not used to drinking because he got drunk immediately and did the riverdance to Indian dance tunes.

It was not as easy to get Chinku drunk though, the boy was well trained in the streets of Jhansi.

Chinku, proud of his new shirt and pants.

At 9 pm, we started puja.

They prayed to Lakshmi for more money to come in, and we gave our expenses notebook for blessing, just in case. At the end of the ceremony, we were given sweets dripping with honey. Messy, very messy.

I was pulled into another ceremony at the house in front, and Henri followed me a few minutes later. It was interesting to see different castes celebrate Diwali.

When Henri and I stepped out of the other house, we were given some sparklers to light the fireworks. And what a lovely sight it was! Like tiny constellations dancing, then dying out, under our feet.

By midnight, the town was covered in mist and smoke, and lots of light.

The following day, we were invited to visit Aklesh, one of the boys at the guest house (the kid who fixed our satellite reception). He lived a kilometer from Orchha so the big boss of the guest house hired an autorickshaw to take us there for the day.

Aklesh's family has a farm so the boys picked eggplants and threw it around like baseballs. A very dangerous game, one landed on Laurianne's nose and almost broke it. I was sleeping through it all because they brought out some beds for us in the field.

They showed us the well, where Henri and Olivier jumped in with the boys.

Aklesh's mom gave us this poster of the gods for luck, and generous plates of pakora curry - and in return Henri gave her a vial of perfume.

That day, I tried to improve my skills in biking...

and chapati patting.

Aklesh's mom joined us an hour later to bake the chapati, with full makeup on. Like the Orchha boys love to say, "oooh la la!"

Chinku pounded the veggies and onions into a paste, but it was the smoke that made him want to cry. Oooh la la!

A great mid-afternoon lunch.

Before leaving, Aklesh gave us some peanuts to munch on for the walk home. Mmm-mmm!

Along the way, we found a bunch of people playing music and stick-fighting.

Henri put his arnis training to good use.

Later, we found some more dancers with sticks, and a kid from this village stole one of the peacock feathers given to me by one of the old men in Aklesh's village. (Kids are really a problem in this neck of the woods.)

And we found yet more guys with sticks at the Ram Rajah temple that evening.

But Henri really stole the show when an Indian guy took his picture without asking for permission, and a crowd of young Indian guys gathered around him, just to watch what was going on.

One boy explained the guy was a tourist, and tourists like taking pictures. You see, we've been in Orchha long enough to walk in the street and recognize the locals, so maybe we've been here long enough to have stopped being observers and start becoming part of the background.