Better to be lucky than to be good: the Orchha Story

There are some decisions that are inspired and then there are those that are just plain dumb luck. Going to Orchha falls squarely into the latter category. None of the early versions of our itinerary had any mention of a stop in Orchha. The plan was to board a bus in Khajuraho and some twelve hours later, disembark in Agra. Laura and I had agreed to this and finalized the plans but as the date got closer, the prospect of such a long travel day was making me prematurely cranky. In hopes of changing this, I hit the guidebooks and the blogs searching for a suitable point inbetween that I could somehow pitch at this late date.

Orchha immediately jumped to the forefront. The town has the standard combo of a fort, a palace and some Hindu temples, but where it gets a big gold star is in the fact that the palace doubles as a hotel and an affordable one, at that. A night living the life of a Maharani was something I could sell, even it meant we would have to cut short our stay in Khajuraho. With that as my weapon, I tossed the monkey wrench squarely into our carefully thought-out plans and Laura, to her credit, didn't flinch (I think the palace helped) and Plan 2.0 was born.
Good thing it was, because from the moment we rolled into town (after a very reasonable 3 hr drive by private car) I was instantly ready to declare it my new favorite place in India, a title it managed to hold onto for some time. It is a small town, mostly off of the tourist path and graced by one of the most gorgeously dramatic skyline imaginable. First we saw the fort itself, across from it, the Chaturbhuj Temple soaring above its stately stone platform, then the Laxminarayan Temple sitting on a not-so-distant hill and eventually the Royal Cenotaphs (or memorials) reflected in the river Betwa. I wanted to try to capture it all, but could not think of which way to point the camera.

We checked into our new royal home and ended up with a spacious, ground floor suite with charm to burn. It was not a picture perfect pretty-pretty kind of beauty, more of a historic, shabby chic, "Can you believe this is our room?" kind of appeal that totally enthralled me. It was so cool that if we would have had nothing but dumps for the rest of the trip, I would have been ok with it. Before exploring our glorious backyard, I decided to sit on the stoop and soak in the ambience on this cool winter morning. A small tour composed exclusively of young Indian men happened by. One of them politely asked if he could take a photo with me. I agreed and ended up posing for cellphone snaps for a good ten minutes. I posed first with groups and then with individuals, and once that was done I shook hands and thanked them all, like I was a celebrity or erstwhile politician. I still do not know for what I was thanking them for...for wanting my photo, for being so nice, for being my fans? It was all so foreign and  disorienting, but it brings me to the next myth I want to address. The myth is that one can never be comfortable in India because people are always staring. Mythbuster conclusion #3: Yes, as a westerner, there are times when you will be the center of attention but it is not really as uncomfortable as you expect. There is a strange fascination with Westerners that can not be denied. The photo shoot in Orchha was to be repeated many different times in many different places. For reasons that I still can't fully comprehend, parents seemed to seek out our acknowledgement of their children, often pushing reluctant toddlers in our directions so that we could ooh and aah in appreciation. I am not a children person, but the parents were so open in their wanting, that I found myself carrying infants and doing the poke the belly thing with startled 2 year olds. Yet, the attention was not entirely unwanted. To the contrary, their interest in us only made me feel better about my interest in them. To explain, I am always wary about the human being as zoo animal phenomena that occurs sometimes when a tourists are faced with a new or foreign culture. The woman in the beautiful sari may be simply going about her business but the tourist, captivated by the exoticness of it all, feels justified in bringing out a camera and snapping away. I try to get past this uneasiness by limiting my photos to people who have given me prior permission or those who are posing for tips (as many of the holy men in these India photos are) but there are times when I can not resist the urge to snap away.  Somehow their curiousity about me vindicated my curiousity about them. Everytime someone approached or stared curiously from a distance, a part of me enjoyed it, as I now felt that I was doing my part in this cultural exchange, giving and not just taking.

With the photo ops behind us and a ticket good for all of Orchha's tourist attractions in hand, we were free to roam around the fort that surrounded us. The Raj Mahal, a few steps away from our hotel, housed the sleeping quarters of the former Royal family. Their rooms, one for the King and another for the Queen, still bore elaborate colorful murals depicting stories about Hindu dieties. I know this not because I had a good guidebook, but because, as a team, Laura, her friend Lena and I were excellent eavesdropper. Between us, we had English, Spanish, Romanian and Russian covered, so we were each able to sidle up to a different guided tour, pick up some relevant information and report back to the others. This approach did not work quite as well in the adjacent building, the Jehangir Mahal, since the tour groups had all magically vanished by the time we got there. It did not matter, though, the building spoke volumes, all on its own. Walking along crumbling walls that belied the elegant grandeur of this once grand palace felt like walking around the coolest movie set ever. The covered walkways that once shielded the women of the palace from men's gazes now created an exciting atmosphere where around every corner lay a surprise. I could have stayed in the fort all day, checking out every nook and every cranny but an all-inclusive ticket is an all-inclusive ticket and there was more to see.

I feared that once we left the sanctity of the fort we would be besieged by touts and salesmen, as we had been when exiting every other tourist attraction in India, but when it did happen, it was to such a minor degree that I was momentarily thrown off. I wasn't even sure we had really left the fort. But we had and were soon in the massive Chaturbhuj Temple that we had been photographing from the fort. Our timing could not have been better because just as we arrived, so did the guy with the key and the flashlight. The key/ flashlight guy is vital to the full appreciation of the temple because he is the only one that can 1) open the door to stairs that lead to the roof and 2)..this is where he really comes in handy...light the pitch-dark steps so that hopefully you can make out which ones have eroded away ages ago. It was part sightseeing trip/ part adventure hike getting to that roof, but it was in keeping with Orchha's well-worn, scruffy charisma. The view of the fort and its surroundings was worth the effort and it was either that or a reluctance to feeling our way back down that obstacle course that kept us up there for a while.

When we did eventually descend, we went in search of the Laxminarayan Temple on the hill. The most surprising thing about the temple was how well-preserved the 400-500 year old interior wall paintings were, this despite an obviously dubious efforts at preservation. All of the murals on the lower parts showed a copious amount of grafitti and our self-appointed guide, who was also the caretaker of the temple, did not even flinch when Laura's flash accidentally went off. 

We finished off our day (and our all-inclusive pass) with a visit to the Royal Cenotaphs.  The memorials to  the former leaders of Orchha look great but do not offer much in the way of things to do once you got there, better to go to the other side of the river to get the sunset photo that appears on every single postcard produced in Orchha, ever.  To do that, you have to cross a narrow bridge that is also the playing field for a gigantic game of chicken between pedestrians, tuk tuks, buses and the occassional cow.  The bridge is still owned by a descendant of the Maharaj who stubbornly refuses to allow the city to widen it. Perhaps he has a side business that involves fishing people, vehicles and livestock out of the river.  Either way, we managed to stay dry and got the photo, as evidenced above.

Also (hopefully) evidenced below is how spectacular Orchha is.  To think, we almost skipped it and for a 12 hour bus ride, no less. Perhaps there is something to be said for dumb luck after all.

The fort complex and our home for the night.




A painting from the Queen's bedroom in the Raj Mahal.


The Jehangir Mahal


In the distance, the Royal Cenotaphs.




Chaturbhuj Temple, as seen from the fort.


Traces of lapis lazuli remain on the walls.







An open air barber-shop.


View of the cenotaphs from Laxminarayan Temple .


Laxminarayan Temple .


The Royal Cenotaphs.