Mark & Jen's 'Around the World' Travel & Photography Blog

My silky salwar kameez (tunic-like dress worn over pants) flutters lightly around my hips as I turn slow circles in the enormous ballroom, staring up at the intricately painted ceiling above. We are standing in Jaipur’s City Palace in Rajasthan– the “Land of Kings”–, still used by the maharaja today. Sparkling chandeliers, gold brocade crownings, painted murals, rich Persian carpets, elaborately carved parapets, and laced ivory doorways all signify the grand elegance of the state’s royals. Inside the armory, we see the hundreds of guns and knives the maharaja’s used in battle. After fifteen minutes, I had to pull Mark away, drool still pooled in the corners of his mouth, and convince him NOT to buy a replica for our not-even-two-years-old nephew.

At Amber Fort, we glide across the marble floors of the numerous palace rooms. Carved stone screens surround the audience halls below, enabling the palace’s women the opportunity of observing life below without breaking the social purdah codes—being seen by men not of their family. Hidden from the world, I can only imagine the amount of whispered gossip that passed behind veiled eyes and fingers.

Jaipur City Palace

Hawa Mahal’s Purdah Window / Bollywood movie filming at Amber Fort

To top off our brush with Indian royalty, we make our way to the Rajasthan Polo Club to watch a club match of this “rich man’s” sport. Since I am hiding my true royal calling, we decide not to sit in the tiered stone stands with the dignitaries; instead, we maintain our layman cover by standing on the sidelines with Jaipur’s rickshaw drivers, vegetable cart men, and local eccentrics. Closer and closer our group moves toward the action on the field, when suddenly–run! The ball comes spiraling toward us and the horses in pursuit behind, at full gallop. We make a mad dash to the edge of the field for safety as the horses kick the desert dust into a swirling cloud. And as soon as the players move, our group rushes back toward the sidelines in pursuit of the perfect view.

Local polo match

The breeze catches the fabric of my dupatta (long scarf) and lifts it up in a feminine swirl. I smile to myself, feeling the beauty of this country embedding itself inside of me. And even though I have not had a true shower in a few weeks (besides buckets of hot water) and my clothes just don’t come clean and I’ve given up the point of wearing make-up, here in these palaces I cannot help but feel a bit like a princess. If only the world would agree to address me as the royalty I should rightly be…