Rajasthan: hospitality, peace and an incredible story in India

We spent a few days in Jodphur. A city with a beautiful historic fort and plenty of cute blue houses, from which its nickname, the blue city, is derived. It’s a typical Indian city with lots of people, animals, rubbish and even more traffic. I have been amazed by India more than once, but until now, I actually enjoyed the craziness. Yet, for the first time, in this dirty, busy city I have difficulty getting used to it. On every corner, I see people emptying rubbish bins; the sound of cars honking is the soundtrack to my days; fat cows stand in the middle of the road between the stinking mess… I start to get annoyed by the noise, the mess and the stench. I need peace, and a deep sigh escapes from my tired body. My prayers are answered when Daisy looks up and says: “Tomorrow we are going to Chandelao, it will be much more peaceful there.”

Chandelao Garh

The next morning we leave early. Our taxi driver looks at us with a smile: “I don’t go to Chandelao very often.” Let us hope this will go well, I think to myself. Just over an hour later, the driver steers the taxi off the main road and onto a dirt path. He stops to ask directions and opens the window. He talks Hindi to an old man. “Just a few more minutes”, he says smiling.

In the distance, a small village appears. The dust whips up in the air as we take the last turn. Suddenly, the car stops. The driver gets out and we follow suit. Two men with coloured turbans come running from behind an old gate. “Welcome sir”, the first one says to me. They open the trunk and carry our bags into the fort. We walk under the gate and the dust disappears. The noise from outside the walls is silenced. We have arrived: Chandelao Garh.

Praduman: a man with a mission

The former fort where we’re spending the next two nights is an oasis of peace. A well-kept lawn with beautiful trees acts as a centrepiece. We’re led to our room and see a swimming pool. “Ooh! I will definitely have a dive”, says Daisy laughing. Our room is spacious, the welcoming bed is big and soft, and the modern bathroom is a luxurious treat. “The owner would like to meet you later,” the man with the turban and moustache tells us. He performs a short bow and then walks back towards the reception. It feels like a special experience from the start.

On the terrace, at the reception, a man with a big, pink-yellow turban is waiting for us. He introduces himself as Praduman, the owner of the hotel. Before we even sit down, he starts telling about his special hotel. “The fort dates back to 1744. The hotel rooms were once the horse stables. I’ve reconstructed it all with my bare hands…”

A special history

Praduman grew up in the fort. His parents lived there until the end of the 1980’s, but the maintenance costs of the monumental building were too high and the fort started to fall apart. In 1996, Praduman decides to return to Chandelao. His plan: refurbish and renovate the fort into a hotel. The first years were difficult, he recalls. After a year and a half, his money began to run out while the renovation was far from finished. Nevertheless, in 1997 he welcomed the first round of tourists. “That was still not enough to make money and to finance the renovation,” he explains. “But I did not give up!”

Praduman continued and, in 2002, the fate of the fort took an unexpected turn. A man from Norway lent money to Praduman for the renovation. “I got along well with the Norwegian and we are now good friends. It was an interest-free loan and I could finally finish the hotel.” When the renovation was complete, he started working with a number of tour operators. That was the true beginning of tourism in Chandelao.

The local community

Nowadays, Chandelao Garh is more than just a hotel. It’s a pillar in the local community. A few years ago, Praduman founded the Arts and Crafts Center. 30 women from the village work there every day to make souvenirs. “Normally, housewives have no opportunity to train themselves or earn money. In this way, they learn a trade and earn their own money.”

The people and the environment

In addition to the Arts and Crafts Center, a computer school has also opened. Children learn basic computer skills, from which they can benefit from for the rest of their lives. “This is a good example of the long-term impact that we are trying to achieve here. Just like the solar panels, the collection of rainwater and the fact that all the trees and plants in the fort are of local origin. We invest in people and in nature.”

Dining under the stars

Dinner is served on the roof of the fort in the evening. We smell delicious curries as we walk up the stairs. We sit and enjoy the tasty food under a clear starry sky, and talk about what we have seen and heard today. Then Praduman walks up to our table. “Do you want to go on a safari tomorrow?” He asks. Surprised, Daisy and I look at each other. Of course, we want that! “Okay, do you want a bird safari or a village safari?”

The village safari

The next morning we report at the gate of the fort after breakfast. A jeep is ready to take us on safari through the surrounding villages. Together with two British tourists, we take a seat in the back of the car. Praduman himself is our driver. We drive across the bumpy dirt roads. Occasionally Praduman stops to point out a beautiful bird or a special building. With Praduman, everything has a story.

After half an hour, Praduman stops the jeep at a small farm. We walk onto the grounds where a man in a bright white robe sits on a rug with a cup of tea. A couple of women watch from a distance while we join the man. “Opium tea?” Praduman asks, laughing. At first, I start laughing as well, but then I realise that he is serious. Is he asking me to drink heroin?

Opium tea

He explains that in rural Rajasthan it’s quite normal to drink opium tea. It is not entirely legal, but most men drink it. They get friendly and quiet, so the women secretly like it very much. I smile at Daisy. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “I’m not doing it.” I decide to try a sip. After all, I don’t want to be impolite. It’s customary for the guest to drink the first sip of opium tea from the host’s hand, the ultimate gesture of hospitality. It’s a little uncomfortable doing this with foreign guests, so I just get the tea in a cup. It tastes bitter, but doesn’t have a particularly recognisable flavour. I’m anxiously awaiting what will happen, but I don’t feel anything. “Maybe it will kick in later, even though it’s only a little bit. But maybe nothing will happen,” Praduman says, while taking a couple of big gulps of his own from a teacup.

We continue our way, enjoying the beautiful landscape. We visit a pottery shop where Daisy shows her creative Steiner-School skills to the locals. Meanwhile, Praduman continues to tell histories; about his past in this region, about the many tourists he has received so far and about the future of his company. A future that looks very bright indeed.

We didn’t swim!

The next morning, we end our stay with our very first yoga class. The quiet environment and the natural sounds fit perfectly with the experience. After the workshop, we walk back to our room to pack our bags. Excited and satisfied, we close the door. We look at the pool again, sad that we didn’t use it. Two days is far too short: we simply didn’t have time for it. Then we walk towards the reception and the gate, where a taxi is waiting. “It will take us back into the hustle and bustle again, right?” I sigh and look at Daisy, who tries to comfort me with a gentle smile. Here we go again.