Chapter 7: Andrea

Our day tour of Jaipur was a feast of colour, scents and noise. The hotel had many pamphlets describing the city and thus armed it was easy to put together the information and the actuality. It was indeed a lovely city; the wide boulevards and the impressive palaces that lined them offered much to observe. However it was off the main streets that India came to life. My rural life in Broughley and to certain extent Bloomsbury could not have prepared me for the crowded streets of Jaipur. I had often seen Ant's nests when they have been disturbed by ploughing, the frenzied activity of the ants as they protect their queen and her eggs was amazing. The streets of Jaipur were the human equivalent of those ants. Charlie, Ashley and I wanted to get out and ramble through those crowded thoroughfares but Meera and Chanderpal urged caution. "The heat will be uncomfortable, but you will be besieged by street vendors who are extremely difficult to shake off." Meera told us.

Chanderpal added his advice. "There is a market where these hooligans are kept away by the security men. That would be a better place for you to browse."

The market was fantastic and safe. Security men patrolled and would deter any unlicensed street vendor using long white batons which they wielded readily and indiscriminately. I was overwhelmed by colour. The colours of the many fabrics displayed, the colours of the spices offered which for a moment I believed to be floral. Chanderpal was very much needed. Indian salesmen did not wait for customers to come to them, they all seemed to have the instinct to home in on a prospect and would encourage them to visit their stall, usually praising their merchandise and demeaning the competition at the same time. I was particularly taken by the lengths of brightly coloured and patterned fine cottons intended for sarees. Meera asked me if I would like to try a saree.

"I think I would." I told her. "The colours are so vibrant and when you wore a saree the other day I was struck by how sensuous the look of it was."

"You are right. A saree can be worn in many ways but if you wish to tempt your lover, it is better than sexy lingerie." I could see the smile fluttering around her lips.

"Hmm. If that is the case I think I should try one on. How can I go about that?"

"I will find somewhere after we have lunched. Then I will tell you how to wear a saree for seduction."

Lunch was another insight into Indian mores. The Orchid Flower was a high class restaurant. The proprietor who introduced himself as Mr. Chatterdee met us at the entrance and asked us to follow him. The interior was most luxurious with low tables surrounded by low settees and many cushions. The cliental seemed to be mainly male and we had some looks of shock. Mr. Chatterdee led us through the main restaurant and into a Victorian-style glass house, where the same type of table and settees was set up for our party. It was quite cool in the glass house as palms growing from small beds reached up to twenty feet or so spreading their fronds and offering shade. Meera whispered for me to sit. Indian etiquette demanded that the highest caste should take their seat first. Mr. Chatterdee noticing who sat first and assumed that I was the titled lady. He welcomed me to his simple restaurant. "Your Ladyship, you do us much honour and I and my staff will do our utmost to make your experience here as satisfying as possible. Please allow us to present a selection of the most choice dishes that India can show. If you would allow, I would ask a photographer to come and take some photos, merely to mark your auspicious patronage." I had no problem about the photo and told him that was alright. Bowing two or three times he backed away and immediately clapped his hands shouting for the waiting staff to attend upon us.

Meera explained that in India women didn't dine out in public without a male, and that male would be their father, brother or husband. "Indian men see unescorted women as loose women. Most restaurants would not accept a booking such as ours, however as you are aristocracy Mr. Chatterdee would be eager for your patronage, but to deter unwelcomed attention by his other customers he has given us this privacy."

The meal was interesting. I had expected variations on the theme of curried this and curried that. However the dishes that were put in front of us were delicately spiced and did not have the overwhelming taste of curry. In fact I enjoyed most of the dishes, taking a small portion of to taste; unlike Charlie who fell upon the dishes as if she had been starved for days. Ashley picked a little of most dishes declaring them to be excellent; yet she didn't eat greatly of any dish. Chanderpal, of course could not eat with us and stood in one corner where he could see, apart from the servers, whoever tried to approach us. His glare deterred the few that did think to approach. I was pleased when the waiters offered him food.

The photographer fussed and tried to separate us so that they only took shots of me. I foiled them when he had Ashley, Meera and Charlie out of shot by moving around to sit in the middle. Eventually he gave up and took the photos. Ashley used a regal pose, one she had perfected when she played a Queen. Charlie was ... well Charlie. Meera seemed uncomfortable at first until I told her to be the Indian Star that she was. She switched on the smile so effortlessly. Once the photographer had left Meera and Ashley collapsed with laughter. I told Ashley that it would be difficult for any to determine between the two of us, who the Honourable was in the photo. Meera grinned and told me that I would be elevated to Countess or even Duchess in the publicity blurb and that Mr. Chatterdee would make sure that everyone would know who the titled lady was. Despite the fact that Mr. Chatterdee would use my image in his advertising he still presented me with an account for the meal. I wasn't going to argue and he accepted my Visa card with a smile.

When we left Meera talked to Chanderpal regarding the best place for sarees. He nodded and ushered us back into the car. He gave instructions to the driver in Hindi. The conversation went on for some time and became a little heated. Meera translated. "The driver wants to go to a place of his choosing and Chanderpal is adamant that he takes us to where he believes we will get the best." Eventually the driver was cowed and got the car moving although he communicated his mood by driving very slowly.

The display of sarees was overwhelming. More colours that anyone would believe possible, designs subtle and bold, the selection was huge. Meera took charge and with the assistants instructed us in wearing a saree. The undergarments were simple, a petticoat with a draw string tied extremely tightly around the waist or if you wished around the hips. Then there was the Choli, a simple bodice with arms, buttoned at the back. However the Choli itself could be less and more. It could finish just above the waist of just under the breasts, depending on how much you want to show. It could be sleeved or sleeveless again depending on your taste. The saree itself was nine yards of cloth. It could be cotton for everyday or for those special occasions silk. It wrapped around the waist or hips and then hand-pleated as many times as you wish. The pleats were tucked into the petticoat to make them secure. Then the remainder of the saree length was draped from the left side and over the right shoulder or the head. We looked at the astounding range of colours and designs, finding it very difficult to choose. I eventually selected a silk saree length in a deep red with a wide border of orange and green. Whilst we were looking I found another silk saree. It was so fine that it was almost transparent unless folded in to layers. Meera whispered in my ear. "When you wish to seduce your lover, that is the saree to wear. Forget the Choli and the petticoat then let him unwrap his present. You will have him eating out of your hand, or anywhere else you want him to eat." I liked the idea but without the petticoat it would be hard to keep the saree from unravelling by itself. The salesgirl smiled. "Memsahib, no problem. Give us thirty minutes and we will sew in Velcro. That will hold the saree tight and when you wish will be easy to release." I was sold and ordered both sarees.