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Madhya Pradesh is an interesting state–one that we knew very little about before we got here.  Actually, the only thing we really knew about MP was the Union Carbide disaster in its capital city, Bhopal, which killed like 100,000 people.  That’s not exactly an enticing reason to visit the place, but there are actually quite a few popular tourist destinations that fly somewhat below the radar.

Don't kill me!!!!!

Our first stop was in Gwalior, where we saw stuffed tigers and gravity-defying chandeliers at the Jai Vilas Palace, along with some lesser examples of conspicuous consumption like ebony furniture, and a dining room miniature train that ferries around brandy and cigars to guests.  Jai Vilas belongs to the Scindias, who are an erstwhile Rajput clan that made their fortune before the modern state borders were drawn (Gwalior is within spitting distance of the Rajasthani border).

After that, we headed up to the Gwalior Fort, which looms over the entire town atop a very steep and imposing cliff side.  There’s not much left besides the ramparts, though, and a very creepy underground lair called the Man Singh Palace, which is stuffed to the brim with squeaky rabid bats.  As the sun set, we took a romantic stroll down the roadway leading into the fort, and discovered a series of ancient Jain figures carved into the rock face.

The next day, we traveled south to Orccha, where we explored the 17th century ruins of the Bundela empire, who were “rivals” of the Mughals (though it’s hard to have a rivalry if one side never wins anything).

Orccha

The former Bundela palaces contained some unbelievably exquisite murals, which would have been even more impressive if someone had invested the time and energy into restoring them.  Even so, the decayed look wasn’t so bad.  We hiked down to a temple complex along the banks of a river at the end of the day, where vultures glided on the tops of spires and stalked their prey below.

By this time, we started to notice that people in MP are excessively friendly, even by Indian standards.  While we were waiting for a train, a couple of guys approached us and started chatting, and before we knew it we had an audience of 30-40 Indian men who were eagerly crowded around us.  It was sweet, and they meant well, but it was incredibly intense all the same.  We’ve also noticed that people in MP will frequently expect us to speak Hindi, and are occasionally a little surprised and sometimes even slightly offended that we don’t understand the words coming out of their mouths.

A stupa at Sanchi

Our next stop was Sanchi, which is one of King Ashoka’s greatest legacies.  Ashoka was a pre-Christian king who conducted some brutal military campaigns against people in the eastern part of the subcontinent, and afterwards developed a guilty conscience.  So, to atone for his misdeeds, he converted to Buddhism and built a series of stupas (kind of like domed pyramids) with gateways that depict different stages of the Buddha’s life.  They’re in pretty good shape for 2200 year old structures, and the surrounding area is absolutely breathtaking in its stillness and tranquility.  It’s not hard to imagine achieving enlightenment amidst its rolling green fields and vibrant Bouganvillea bushes.

The last place we visited in Madhya Pradesh were the ancient erotic temples at Khajuraho, which unfortunately was one of the more unpleasant experiences we’ve had in India.  It’s not that we were scandalized by the depictions of orgies and beastiality on the stone facades–that, of course, was great fun!  Unfortunately, though, the world famous monuments have bred an extremely hostile and unpleasant atmosphere in the town itself.

We were first exposed to this upon the arrival at our hotel, when our complimentary cup of tea turned into two forced massages, and a barrage of offers to book train tickets, bus tickets, and guided tours.  You are of course signing yourself up for this kind of thing to a certain extent whenever you enter a tourist center in India or any other country, but in general you don’t expect that hassle to follow you into the place where you’re staying.  It’s so pervasive here that even the children will follow you around on bicycles and act as your “guide”.

It’s a tough situation because tourists provided a much needed stream of revenue into places like Khajuraho.  I of course recognize that we are bringing in an elevated level of wealth and privilege into an area that has a short supply of both, which will inevitably cause a little bit of friction and resentment with the local population. We’re hardly getting the short end of the deal, but on the other hand, we’ve been to a lot of places in India that have managed to treat visitors with more respect and dignity, and not as walking wads of cash.  It’s a shame that Khajuraho couldn’t have been more like Orccha and Sanchi.