India-tastic
When you tell people in the U.S. you are going to live and work in India for five months, you get a lot of different reactions: interest, surprise (maybe astonishment), and a lot of questions about cleanliness, poverty and safety. I’m pretty sure no one asked me if I would be attending any literature festivals.
Meet Charlotte, Rhone and Chris (above) — because of them, on my 3rd weekend in India, I got to attend the Jaipur Literature Festival in the state of Rajastan, about 180 miles from Delhi and anywhere from a 4-6 hour drive. I met Rhone, a student Fulbright researcher, in my guest house in Delhi, and he later met Charlotte, a German radio journalist, in his second guest house. Rhone had already spent close to a year in India on an earlier scholarship, and not only knew about the Festival but knew it would be great, so Charlotte and I were eager to go. Chris, another student Fulbright researcher, quickly and enthusiastically decided to meet us there after he heard about it.
This was the 16th year of Jaipur Literature festival, which describes itself as “part-circus, part-postgraduate seminar and part-revolutionary assembly” and brings together poets, novelists, thinkers, activists, humanitarians and entertainers in a 5 day festival in the Pink City. It was incredibly beautiful, incredibly stimulating, and a great way to be introduced to prominent Indian thinkers and writers. I heard from William Dalrymple, famed writer on India, Nobel Laureate Abdulrazak Gurnah, International Booker Prize Winner Geetanjali Shree, Bernardine Evaristo, Chita Banerjee Divakaruni, Gulzar, among many, many others. The people-watching was fabulous, the chai was served in beautiful carved terracotta cups, and I bought way too many books in the bookstore.
A travel weekend so early in my time in India was a wonderful diversion and brought great bonding moments — the wild boar in the hotel parking lot, breakfast every day together, chatting with interesting people, checking out the Amer Fort, stopping at the famous sweet shop, the long drive to and from Delhi and stopping at roadside dhabas to eat, and the inevitable confusion over how much the driver should be paid. These friends became my regular touchstones — people I knew I could count on to listen, share and appreciate the full glory of my Indian experience.
