Rajkot is on our itinerary because it is the home town of
the Bhatt family. Early in the planning of our trip, Sheela Bhatt (Rita’s son
Shashi’s wife) offered to arrange for us to stay with her uncle Jikaka and aunt
Benifaiva and use the Bhatt house as a home base. We gratefully accepted her offer. Over
time, the plan to travel in a counter-clockwise circle starting and ending in Delhi
evolved, and the concept of a home base was replaced with a six day visit to Rajkot.
We arrived at the Rajkot Junction train station around 11AM
on Sunday. Jikaka met us at the station with his car [known as
the Bhattmobile, no doubt] and driver and escorted us to his home, where we
were set up in “Sheela’s room”. Jikaka told us that the second story had
been added for Sheela’s family when she was very young, and had been Sheela’s
home for six months after her graduation from UC Berkeley; thus the name
“Sheela’s room”.
Rajkot is a rapidly-growing town with new construction
everywhere. Builders buy up old houses, rip them down, and build multi-story apartment
buildings. Just like home. The streets seem cleaner than in other cities we have visited,
and air pollution seems less.
Under Jikaka’s guidance, we visited the market area
where Rita had a ball. We toured Gandhi’s family home with Jikaka acting as our
Gujarati-to-English translator. We visited the Watson Museum (which has exhibits on local
geology, history, and wildlife) and we explored Rajkot’s ice cream parlors.
We got around town in autorickshaws that have rather small
seats. Jikaka’s, Rita’s, and my rear ends do not fit across the seat, so we must
have looked a little like a circus act as we got ourselves into and out of the rear of a
rickshaw.
We visited a local movie theater for a Hindi movie, arriving
fifteen minutes early. We found the theatre auditorium to be completely dark, so we felt
our way to our seats. Finally the lights came on, a few other people came in and took
seats, and within a minute the movie started. With occasional explanations from Rita or
Jikaka, I was able to follow the story and enjoyed the movie.
We paid a visit to the Sri Ramakrishna Ashram, where Jikaka
introduced us to the director of the ashram who invited us back for lunch. The ashram is
very clean and well-maintained. It seems to be run in an efficient, business-like manner.
And it is doing good works for poor people and disaster victims in the area. I was
impressed, and look forward to a return visit.
Jikaka, Benifaiva, Rita, and I traveled by car to the town
of Gondal, 30km or so south of Rajkot, to visit the Pandya family, related to Jikaka and
Benifaiva through their older sister’s marriage to Dr. Pandya. We traveled on a
recently widened and repaved national highway—the best road I have seen here so
far—where many new businesses have sprung up in the last six months or so.
Benifaiva and Jikaka prepared and served Gujarati food that
they had specially prepared without hot spices, and I found it delicious. She served me a
cup of buttermilk that I drank, and then she tried some herself and decided it was sour.
She chuckled for the next couple of days about the fact that I had downed it anyway. [Those of us who know Allen's culinary leanings are chuckling as well.]
I continued my habit of early morning walks and explored
much of the city on foot, as I tried to attain the arbitrary goal of finding my way back
to the railroad station. And on the fourth morning, I finally found it!
Along the way, I found cows, goats, and pigs searching for
breakfast on the streets. I watched a vegetable vendor at the side of the road in the
outdoor produce market with a pile of onions on a piece of cloth. She would take one
onion, then turn to another piece of cloth where she would peel it and cut it. While she
had her back turned, a sheep moved in, took an onion from the pile, and moved off a short
distance. The vendor turned around, took another onion from the pile, and turned away
again to process it. The sheep moved in again for another onion. On the third go-around,
she saw the sheep, and raised a large stick. The sheep wandered off down the road toward
the rest of the flock.
Morning worship was held in small temples accompanied by
chanting, beating of drums, and ringing of bells. Chai vendors fired up their portable
stoves to begin the day’s business. Newspaper delivery guys rolled and folded papers
and piled them on bicycles. Rickshaw wallahs slept in their rickshaws (an acrobatic feat,
as far as I'm concerned), and many people slept on the sidewalk, covered head to foot by
blankets. In front of the train station, a whole family (three or four adults and several
children) made their home on the sidewalk. The older children were up and playing while
the adults and babies slept.
In the train station, passengers slept on the platform.
Morning baths were taken at faucets between the tracks, men at one faucet, women at the
next. Women from nearby neighborhoods brought metal jugs and filled them with water from
the railroad’s supply. A cow and a goat wandered along the track (and moved aside
when the train came). Local residents used the railroad property as a bathroom, and could
be seen squatting in the dirt and on the tracks.
In the downtown area, many local residents were out
early—walking, jogging, or walking their dogs. Most buildings had someone sleeping
near the front door, acting as a guard, I assume.
Our time in Rajkot ended all too soon, and Jikaka called the
driver for the ride back to the train station. Jikaka had greeted us when we arrived,
saying that we were part of the family. We left feeling that it was really true. We
reluctantly said our good-byes to Benifaiva and Jikaka, and headed on toward Mumbai
(Bombay) on the overnight mail train.
Green Monster note:
We left Rajkot without the Green Monster. It now sits in the
corner of Sheela’s room loaded with all the things we brought and now think we can
live very comfortably without, especially since doing without means we don’t have to
drag the Green Monster from place to place. We did not need another bag to replace it, as
everything we kept fitted (just barely) into the other two bags and two backpacks,
although we may need to add another small bag later. Between the house and the train
station, Rita bought a couple of saris that we have not yet found a place for, and
I’m sure our “stuff” will continue to grow. We will return to Rajkot near
the end of the trip to recover the Green Monster. It will be a great excuse for another
visit with Benifaiva and Jikaka.
