Guess who's coming to dinner

Udaipur

 

Udaipur, White City, City of Love, Lake City – whatever you like to call it, it’s a beautiful place. For the first time since our arrival (barely a week ago) we see water, and we flock to the lake edge like horses to water. Calming, soothing, the sun shimmering off its surface; the City of Love is the place to be.  

 

On one of the many rooftop restaurants we meet a girl named Roos, or her Hindu name, [tbc]. I pick her for Irish… then Welsh, then English, then Scottish… turns out she’s Dutch, speaks five languages, and is dressed in full Hindu get-up. It’s her 21^st birthday today, and her second visit to India. She spent six months here on her 1^st visit learning Hindu and immersing herself in the culture. We spend the afternoon with her, talking to her Indian friends and visiting the local markets. She invites us to dinner with her friends, so we arrange to meet at around seven.
 

 Swags is out for the count, so me and Yobin go. The house is in the centre of town, above a major tourist thoroughfare. We climb the stairs to a single stone room, greet the family, the children, and enjoy some chai tea. Before long we’re up and playing with the kids – there’s a flat football, a spinning top, and a pole – more than enough to entertain oneself for housrs We get to the roof, about four stories high and look out over the city and all the activity below. The two kids – fourteen and ten – amuse themselves with running races and tag, while we talk and observe the scenes below. Turns out the house is over two hundred years old, and has been in the family for all that time. They run a tailoring shop below, which the guy tells me was among the first – 22 years ago – of the dozens of shops that now litter the area.  
 

 

 

 

Roos, Ben and I, and the family enjoy dinner of rice and curry lentils, paneer and onion pakora – the non-spicy version. Sunil – our host – has some more cooked up, this time with curry and chilli’s in it. I prove my partiality to hot foods by eating two green chilli’s – no effect, despite the hurls of laughter all around.

 

 

Post-dinner entertainment consists of shifting to an even smaller room, adding about three more people (grandma, cousins, friends), turning up the music loud, and dancing with joy. The little trooper is especially energetic; Ben and I, unfortunately, prove our awkwardness at dancing. At one point, they encourage us to dance. I have a vision that haunts me ever since that night – me and Yobin standing there awkwardly, flapping our hands around trying to dance, Indian music blaring and distorting through the T.V., and seven Indians sitting huddled on a mattress staring at us with blank expressions and frozen looks. They were simply stunned. I can’t imagine what they were thinking. When the girls did finally get up, one of the kids taped us dancing on his phone. I hope that video never sees the light of day, better yet, destroyed.  

 

 

Scarred from our dancing experiences, we said our goodbyes, and recovered with cocktails at a beautifully lush lakeside hotel overlooking the lake and illuminated royal palace.

 

 

Happy birthday Roos – and thank you!