Jaipur, the pink city. That was pretty much most of what I knew about of my new destination. I was greeted by an intensely hot March afternoon, after my 17 hour train ride up from Mumbai.
Each year on the eve of Holi, the Indian festival of colour, the Rajistan state government holds the Elephant Festival. Intended for the many tourists which visit Jaipur each year.
Later that day after checking into my guesthouse, I wandered around the chaotic inner city streets. Most of my attempts to find out any details of the festival from locals, were just answered with a smile and a wobble of the head. By now I had learned that this was a good sign and the festival promised to be a great show.
The following morning, after fending off a rather persistent rickshaw driver, another traveller and myself found ourselves in a tree covered courtyard not too far from the old observatory. Soon the sound of drums started to float down the main street which runs down the middle of the old walled area of the city. Slowly groups of both locals and other tourists jockeyed for a position alongside the road as marching bands, traditionally dressed women dancers and of course elephants, came into view. Decorated with brightly colourful silks and adorned head to toe in jewellery. The result of many hours work, by their adoring owners.
Curious to see where the parade would be heading we were able to walk down the street along side some of the elephants, following the pace set by The Vishnu Marching Band, just in front of us.
The parade ended at the city’s Chaugan Stadium, where many of the musicians and dancers took the opportunity to rest under cover, escaping from the sun’s heat in one of the stands specifically setup for tourists. Oh, there is no charge for this event, we were told. Just return here by 4pm, you will enjoy very much.
As instructed we returned later on. Greeting us in the entrance building was a richly colourful floor mosaic of fresh flowers, and the stand we had just rested in a few hours before was now full.
On queue, the voice over the PA system announced the program. Best Dressed Elephant, Elephant Tug of War, Elephant Polo and the grand finale, Elephant Holi. I could only imagine what that might involve.
As many locals stood packed around the edges of the field, Elephants, Cows, Camels and the marching bands, slowly came parading out. Judges, camera crews and the odd curious local inspected the elaborate costumes of both Elephants and their passengers, to determine the ultimate winner of the day.
Now its time for the last event of the program, said the announcement. May we have some volunteers who want to play Holi? Spectators quickly closed in around the four remaining Elephants and clouds of Abeer, a colourful chalky powder filled the air.
Thrown with great enthusiasm by the Elephant’s new passengers, both at each and other anyone else in the surrounding crowd below, who did not mind themselves and their clothes becoming a new shade of red, blue, yellow, orange and purple.
Outside the stadium in the streets, revellers were crowded around bonfires, shouting aloud Holi Hai, Happy Holi. As we made our way to some waiting taxis, we realised how fortunate we had been to have witnessed this truly memorable event.
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