Stepwell Stylin'
A barefoot Indian man clothed in a dark maroon shirt and faded blue slacks is fetching water from the bottom of a stepwell. He is lowering a pail fashioned from a plastic bucket and then depositing the water in a larger bucket. He then splashes the water across the first layer of the stepwell. From what I can tell he is washing that which is already wet.
I am observing this from about half way down the well, perhaps 10 metres below street level. It is cool and peaceful, a respite from the raging streets, the fire spitting dragon tongues that knit the bazaars together.
Is this why the man is all the way down at the bottom of the well? The churning, roilong mass has proven too much and he has sought subterranean tranquility. I guess the washing gives him a task to occupy his limbs while he recovers.
Or perhaps this is simply another expression of the abundance of Indian life. There are so many people that it is hard to find something for everyone to do.
I think of Giorgio Agamben and the ‘homo sacer’, a thinker I have not read and a concept I know by vibe only. I am sure I am using it incorrectly, but seeing the abundance of life here makes me think about what ‘pure’ or ‘bare’ life is. Once the baggage1 that fills out lives is stripped away, what is bare life? Is there even a nucleus of life buried within each person, or is it precisely all the baggage that makes life itself.
At the very least I think there is something below the surface as evidenced by the stepwell washer, or by the thousands of people that sit in their across the alleyways of Jodhpur, seemingly doing nothing but living. As I said in the previous entry, there seems to be three surplus people for every task and I guess this is the kernel I am clawing at. These surplus people throw life itself into relief.
I am aware that these people that I view as surplus will certainly have a rich social/economic/political life, essentially all the baggage that I wish to jettison, which counteracts any assertion that they exist solely on a plane of ‘bare life’. Nonetheless, these are the thoughts that come to mind.
Beyond the magnificent stepwell in the centre of Jodhpur, the city has a pretty amazing fort. The spectacular complex of places and defensive fortifications grow out of the hillside and preside over the surrounding city. As tourist attractions in India go, this is the best so far with excellent relics and artifacts from the Maharajas. The tour is aided by a great audio guide narrated by a comically colonial sounding English gentleman. One detail I liked is how the architecture supported the purdah2 system, with small hidden alcoves dotted everywhere to allow the women to observe court procedings. It turns out that the fort is still privately owned, which explains why it functions well as a museum/attraction. Anything government run is pretty decrepit and uniformly slightly disappionting.
Other than the fort, there is not too much to do in Jodhpur. A Korean friend I had picked up at Jaipur left after a day, so I have had a couple of slow days roaming the streets and blue buildings. I went to some gardens at the edge of the city from where earlier rulers of the area were based, and I explored a couple of other temples. However, I probably booked one too many nights here and I am keen to leave for Jaisalmer and the desert.
As it turns out I am writing this at the end of my stay in Jaisalmer, ahead of a long travel day to Goa, so if you are lucky you will get another entry quick fast.
By baggage I mean everything that takes up our day to day. All the social, cultural, economic, political etc obligations that pattern a life..
I would be interested to know how purdah came to be used to describe the moratorium on certain council activites in the run up to elections.