Great Eastern Journey, Mon, 25 Mar 2013 | written by Simon
Simon at a City, Temple, UNESCO site in Asia, India


It’s becoming harder and harder to be a tolerant person and have understanding for cultural differences. It’s been a bit easier in Omkareshwar, but Khajuraho is a real challenge. I can get used to the filth and mess – I wouldn’t want to live in a place like that, but if they want to, it’s their choice. I don’t mind the bureaucracy that much, I start to learn how to avoid being cheated all the time, I don’t even mind the haggling. But what really tests my patience, is the lack of respect for privacy. It’s amusing at first when some kids want to take a picture with me, or when someone randomly asks my name. But when for the whole day most people stare at me right in my face, after the hundredth person today asks me what is my name and what is my country, after the fiftieth kid wants chocolate, after the zillionth shopkeeper stops me to show me his stuff… Just leave me alone, for fuck sake! And it doesn’t help to say ‘sorry, don’t want to talk’, they just won’t leave me alone. And it’s not made easier by the fact that once I say I’m Simon and I’m from Poland, they seem to completely run out of ideas for what to do next. It is really hard to be tolerant of a culture in which everybody feels entitled to invade my private space, and it’s really hard not to get pissed off at pretty much everybody here. The constant noise is a part of the same thing – you want to sleep at 6am? Screw you, I’m selling chai here. CHAI!!! The feeling of constantly having to wave away annoying buzzing flies is… just wrong, I really don’t want to feel like that!

The birds! There were thousands of them all over the place for over half an hour!
How much fun you can have in all that filth!
Old, non-touristy Khajuraho
This really pissed me off. Smoking pot means 5 years in jail, and destroying art 3 months?!
Jain temples are different
Ruined temple. Bloody Mughals
And now for some close ups
Anyone wants to try that?

Anyway, Khajuraho is awesome. It’s the first place in India where I see something really beautiful. The temples are truly amazing, and I’m quite enchanted by the intricate ornaments and the lush richness of the decorations. That’s horror vacui at its best – not a centimeter without a sculpture or an ornament. It’s made even better by the fact that many of the sculptures depict pretty hardcore sex scenes, including plenty group sex and some bestiality. I feel like I should start up doing acrobatics again after seeing some of them. I took a good number of pictures for future reference and will be offering private and group teachings in old Indian arts after I come back. (To be read with a heavy Indian accent:) Best quality, very cheap my friend, very cheap, I give you special price!

The Western Temple Complex is paid, but very well maintained

 

I wonder how this sculpture fits the theory that Khajuraho isn’t about sex, it’s just ritual and tantra
The middle is always best
Happy elephant
The light is so directed inside the temples…
… that it falls exactly and only on the figure of the deity
I caught a guy posing for another photo. How many guys in the West pose like that?

In the meantime I met two guys who, for a change, just wanted to chat rather than sell me something. The first one, yesterday evening, was a jumpy type who didn’t seem to get that repeating that he’s cool doesn’t make him cool, quite the opposite. He was gradually sliding down towards obnoxious sex and drinking jokes, and recommended me the worst Indian restaurant I’ve been to yet (the mutton literally consisted of skin and bones), so I just said goodbye. On the way back another guy stopped me and I tiredly wanted to get rid of him as well, but Win turned out to be really nice after all. We spent some time chatting in the evening and today he showed me around a bit on his motorbike. Turns out he plays the piano and just came back from a long visit in Japan. It’s really good and refreshing to meet someone with whom I can just talk.

 Win, who was awesome and drove me around on his bike
On the way back I found a maths lesson

Back to architecture, my hostel is a fine example of the best modern Indian craftsmanship. It’s brand new, some parts are still in the making. The room has mains sockets in most random locations, one is just above the door. There are paint streaks all over the skirting boards. In the bathroom the door is covered with a metal board that scratches the floor tiles with a horrible screech, and the sink is built in such a way that it leaks when the water pressure is low.

In the evening I went to check out a pretty good traditional dancing performance, had some mystery noodles from a street stand for 20R and now I need to get some sleep, because tomorrow morning I need to catch a train to Agra. I really don’t feel like going to another tourist spot now, but well, have to at some point.

During the day the park looks less enchanting…
Chillies!
Actually, at night it’s not particularly enchanting either.