Jodhpur, India
“ … I don’t deserve this.”
It is nearly midnight and I am sitting in the upper terrace of my home. With my vision eliminated, my ears present me with a sound-scape eerily similar to that of a military coo. There is a hushed rumble off towards the horizon; although, sporadically a piercing shot along with an accompanying vibration ring out from within our colony. Fortunately upon re-establishing my fifth sense, I am presented by an erratic, yet delightful home fireworks montage. Diwali, the Hindu festival of light, has arrived with full force.
I have just returned from a private celebration at the Maharaja Gaj Singhji's main residence, Umaid Bhawan Palace. Since he and his wife are both trustee's of the Jal Bhagirathi Foundation, I was incredibly fortunate to have been invited. The attendees were a who's who of the Maharaja's close family as well as some high-profile guests, myself not included. I had been to the Palace as a tourist earlier in the month, but was restricted to the museum portion, since entrance to the Hotel within the Palace costs Rs. 3000, which is equivalent to about $60 USD. And that’s just to set foot in the building ... staying there costs substantially more, something my negative income from JBF cannot afford.
In any case, the Palace was breathtaking ... it is situated on the crest of a hill, which provided a captivating view of the Mehrangarh Fort and the Old city. Rotating one's self 180 degrees, the Palace’s warm glow euphemized the sheer opulence of the structure. The gardens were exquisite and immaculately kept, and the live entertainment included a traditional Rajasthani band with a boy of maybe 5, who could move better than I could ever hope to on a dance floor. Due to the reduction in light pollution, a gaze upwards provided a pristine, heavenly tableau … and out of the corner of one eye, I happened to catch a shooting star, perfectly completing my Disney moment. The only misplaced element was the cuisine, where they had taken the peculiar decision to serve Mexican … the miniature quesadillas and burritos were incapable of living up to their surroundings.
Returning to the terrace, perhaps it is the majestic nature of my immediate experience or rather my slight intoxication from access to an open bar, regardless a sense of serenity blankets my consciousness. How fortunate am I? Not only in relation to my birth endowment (i.e. Westerner, white and wise parents), but with regards to my present circumstance. Basically, I have been given the opportunity to develop the foundation of a new NGO. My project and my host organisation have more depth than I could have envisioned. My supervisors are approachable, energetic and have given me the freedom to tackle challenges in any way I so choose. I have visited many rural villages and experienced the joy and hardship of its people. None of these things were guaranteed, nor even apparent when I accepted this internship.
The responsibility afforded to an awkward, inexperienced university graduate, especially one who drank too much and studied too little, is astounding … truly, I do not believe I could or should have this type of opportunity yet. What qualifications or accomplishments of my own warrant such fortuitousness? Honestly … I do not know; that question simply renders my mind void … incapable of expressing more than a pause and a cheeky grin.
“ … I don’t deserve this.”
It is nearly midnight and I am sitting in the upper terrace of my home. With my vision eliminated, my ears present me with a sound-scape eerily similar to that of a military coo. There is a hushed rumble off towards the horizon; although, sporadically a piercing shot along with an accompanying vibration ring out from within our colony. Fortunately upon re-establishing my fifth sense, I am presented by an erratic, yet delightful home fireworks montage. Diwali, the Hindu festival of light, has arrived with full force.
I have just returned from a private celebration at the Maharaja Gaj Singhji's main residence, Umaid Bhawan Palace. Since he and his wife are both trustee's of the Jal Bhagirathi Foundation, I was incredibly fortunate to have been invited. The attendees were a who's who of the Maharaja's close family as well as some high-profile guests, myself not included. I had been to the Palace as a tourist earlier in the month, but was restricted to the museum portion, since entrance to the Hotel within the Palace costs Rs. 3000, which is equivalent to about $60 USD. And that’s just to set foot in the building ... staying there costs substantially more, something my negative income from JBF cannot afford.
In any case, the Palace was breathtaking ... it is situated on the crest of a hill, which provided a captivating view of the Mehrangarh Fort and the Old city. Rotating one's self 180 degrees, the Palace’s warm glow euphemized the sheer opulence of the structure. The gardens were exquisite and immaculately kept, and the live entertainment included a traditional Rajasthani band with a boy of maybe 5, who could move better than I could ever hope to on a dance floor. Due to the reduction in light pollution, a gaze upwards provided a pristine, heavenly tableau … and out of the corner of one eye, I happened to catch a shooting star, perfectly completing my Disney moment. The only misplaced element was the cuisine, where they had taken the peculiar decision to serve Mexican … the miniature quesadillas and burritos were incapable of living up to their surroundings.
Returning to the terrace, perhaps it is the majestic nature of my immediate experience or rather my slight intoxication from access to an open bar, regardless a sense of serenity blankets my consciousness. How fortunate am I? Not only in relation to my birth endowment (i.e. Westerner, white and wise parents), but with regards to my present circumstance. Basically, I have been given the opportunity to develop the foundation of a new NGO. My project and my host organisation have more depth than I could have envisioned. My supervisors are approachable, energetic and have given me the freedom to tackle challenges in any way I so choose. I have visited many rural villages and experienced the joy and hardship of its people. None of these things were guaranteed, nor even apparent when I accepted this internship.
The responsibility afforded to an awkward, inexperienced university graduate, especially one who drank too much and studied too little, is astounding … truly, I do not believe I could or should have this type of opportunity yet. What qualifications or accomplishments of my own warrant such fortuitousness? Honestly … I do not know; that question simply renders my mind void … incapable of expressing more than a pause and a cheeky grin.
1 comment:
Jack - happy holidays!
Update the blog!
Also, how's your internet access, can you watch highlights/stream live hockey from there, or are you just assuming that Canada's rocking at the juniors and that the Sens are losing to the leafs....
-aleem
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