Hi-yo from K-ho

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A quick apology: If it seems like my blog posts for the last few days have been boring/lame/weird it’s because I’ve been incredibly tired. My cold has been developing for a day or two and it has really taken it out of me, so my descriptions are suffering and my levels of pithy-ness are low. I’ll try to make up for it ASAP.

Well, I think I made it through the night without any mosquito bights, but it still doesn’t feel very comfortable to sleep with a scarf over your face. Despite my long day yesterday and late night, I’m up pretty early and out for a walk around 8am. I’m starving and I decide to seek out some breakfast.

An hour later, I’m having breakfast in a tree, looking out over millennia old temples covered in elaborate (and erotic) depictions of the Kama Sutra. Pretty cool, huh? I can relax while I eat my sweet parantha with jam because just before this I stopped at an internet café to clear up a minor crisis with my train tickets for tomorrow. After booking yesterday’s ticket for the wrong day, I had a feeling my next trip might not be totally in order, and sure enough one of them was totally mis-scheduled.


But the problem is fixed and life is good. My cold is in remission, I’m sitting in a tree in the sunshine, eating good food, jamming to my iPod, admiring the handiwork of an exotic and ancient civilization…did I mention I’m doing all of this in a tree fort? That is neat.

I head back to the hotel to meet Laura so we can begin our day of temple-gazing. She’s Danish and also traveling alone, but is much more comfortable going solo than I am. She said she almost wasn’t sure if she wanted to meet up with me here, just because she doesn’t typically like to have a plan that she has to stick to. She flies by the seat of her pants and seems to have the completely opposite personality from me (maybe that’s why she’s a primary school teacher while I can’t stand that age). By the end of the day we’ll probably either be good friends or not speaking.

We head down the road towards the largest group of temples in Kho, the Western group. They aren’t the oldest, but they still date back to the 10th and 11th century and they’re in the best condition. As we walk around the complex it’s fun to think that until 150 years ago, only a few villagers even knew these were here. After the royal family that built them was conquered in the 1400s, they were abandoned and incredibly dense jungle started to grow and cover them up. An Englishman mapping the region in the 1850s stumbled upon them and quickly had them uncovered for the world to appreciate. In my mind I can picture what it must have looked like: animals like tigers and peacocks stroll through the temples; birds and monkeys howl up in the trees; sunlight barely makes it through the dense canopy of leaves; brilliantly colored flowers perfume the air; the sound of drums floats in from a village in the distance. Yeah, it sounds like every movie ever set in the jungle, but it’s fun to imagine, anyway.

After being quoted an exorbitant Rs600 for a personal guide for the two of us, we decide to go with the audio-cassette guide (“But madam, a tape cannot convey the magic that is only to be found in Khajuraho. Only a person with feelings can convey such magic.” Shove off, buddy). In the end, we’re really glad that we did—this tape is hilarious. It has music in the background that gets more or less intense to add mood to the narrative, and the speaker has a velvety, tenor voice that drips with mystery. Oh, and the phrasing! Ha! “Notice the softly undulating lines of the temple, how they convey an almost lyrical grace and harmony to the building.” So much better than a real guide.

The temples don’t disappoint, either, although the carvings aren’t overwhelmingly sexual in nature. Sure there are plenty of portrayals of sex in various positions (my personal favorite being one showing someone—the mother?—behind the couple with their hands on their face a la Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone), but most of them are simply men and women either alone or just enjoying each other’s company. Laura gets a little insulted when the tape tells us one carving is a woman clutching her boyfriend in fear of a monkey that he’s shooing away with a stick; neither of us have much pity for weak women.

There are several temples and it takes almost three hours to see them all. There’s almost no space that hasn’t been decorated and carved, and the amount of time and skill it must have taken them to create these is mind-blowing. The tape said the sculptors started their morning with several hours of prayer and meditation so that they were focused when it was time to go to work; it obviously paid off. It’s getting really hot, though, and I’m starting realize that my sneezing and sniffly nose are turning into a full-on cold. I’m exhausted and sweaty so we decide it’s time for lunch.

After some seriously tasty chicken kababi and paneer kofta, we’re re-energized and raring to go. To see the other temples, though, we’re going to need bikes, which cost fifty cents to rent. Deal. At the bike shop we bump into Lucky, one of the guys who works at our hotel, and since he and his friend have nothing better to do, they hop on their motorbike and give us a tour of the eastern group of temples. They’re basically the same, but older and in worse condition; a lot of the detail in the carvings has been worn off.

But who cares? I’m having a blast riding around on my bike! Riding through the countryside is seriously one of the most fun things I’ve done in India! What am I, six? Is it really this much fun to go for a bike ride? Then things really get crazy when Lucky lets us take turns driving his motorcycle. Actually, neither of us gets above 40km/hr or so—not for lack of trying on my part—and I kind of prefer the bicycle anyway.

On our way to the southern group, our last stop of the day, the boys take us through the Old City, basically a small village that hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. The small, squat houses are painted in either stark white or beautiful pastels and the kids all run out to greet us as we pass. We’re taking dozens of photos from our bikes; Laura stops frequently to get her shots, but I’m content to take mine while I’m still moving. I’m a little nervous we’re going to end up with a mob around us. Unfortunately, my fears are justified; as we’re leaving the village we pause just a little too long and a half dozen kids gather demanding “Photo! Rupees! Sweets!” When we don’t pony up, they start grabbing our bikes and bags and chase us as we try to flee the scene.

As then sun goes down, we pedal back into town. Laura’s got a henna-date with some little girls she met yesterday and I need to print my train ticket for tomorrow. But at the end of the day we have an absolutely delicious pizza dinner (ham, tomatoes, mushrooms and gherkins—trust me, the combination works) that we wash down with chocolate and coconut lassis.

Kho has been incredible: a sleepy little village virtually untouched by time and home to some of the most incredible structures I’ve ever seen. And I’m so glad to have spent the day with Laura; we’re getting along famously and laughing a lot. I’ve provided some structure for her day and she’s slowed me down a bit to talk to people that I might have just ignored. I think I can learn a lot from her because she’s much more patient than I am. When we’re bombarded by vendors at the temples, she listens and turns them down gently. As for me, one guy pushes me too far, so I turn around and say with my fists up, “Come here. I’m going to hit you.” (hey, it got the job done)

I wish I had one more day here, or that I could leave later in the day tomorrow. Udaipur is supposed to be amazingly beautiful and peaceful, though, the Venice of India, and I admit I’m pretty excited to see it and get back on the water. Laura and I have one last chat with the hotel owners and say our goodbyes over a bonfire in the garden before I get back into my anti-mosquito cocoon and fall asleep.