Two Nights in Rathembore

February 12, 2026

We left the city of Agra and the beautiful Taj Mahal behind us. We were barely 15 minutes from our last hotel when we made a stop at the "Rug Factory!" Here they sell handmade rugs that are commissioned out to women in the villages where they work at home making the rugs. All necessary supplies are provided and the government gives the women a monthly stipend to do the work. It is a dying art as not many young women are interested in this tedious manual labor that can take many months to complete. When a rug is finished the weaver gets a final payment based on the size and complexity of the rug.

Women in India now have better educational opportunities and value that option to better themselves. However, many still opt to stay home and raise children and care for the home after marriage. Traditionally, even highly educated brides move into their grooms home and the family bonds together to cook, raise children, and care for the home. We met one such family one night for dinner at their home when we visited Jaipur.

After Agra and a few of us buying rugs, we were on the road for 4 hours to the Rathembore Tiger sanctuary in Rajasthan. There were two "safaris" that our group could participate with a 5:30
wake-up up time. The preserve is massive. The promise of tiger sighting absolutely not guaranteed. With 50 degree temps, open jeep, dusty undulating bumpy roads, I decided that no tiger was worth freezing and loss of sleep. On the first day our group was two freezing hours into the trek and the guide was ready to call it quits when "the old lady" of the park appeared and gave everyone a brief picture opportunity and then she trotted off and vanished. On the second just as cold morning, the group had no luck seeing any tigers. There are other animals who inhabit the sanctuary like crocodile, deer and monkeys.

I my stay at the hotel once they put padding on my rock hard bed. It was nice to be out of the city hearing bird songs not horns!! The grounds are lovely and by noon the weather warms.

One late morning we had a walk about the tiny town nearby. Small ditches run on each side of the "street" which is more like a side walk. Sewage from laundry(?) Ran Grey in the ditches but no adverse odor. The walkway is like an obstacle course where one must continue to look down to avoid steping in something undesirable. Besides having to step to oneside for people, theres beeping motorbikes, cows, dogs, and an occasional goat adding to the obstacles to avoid. There are shopkeepers selling specific wares like shoes in one, clothing, housewares, and one shop has two sewing machines. One man is diligently working on a sewing project. Men seem to be running commerce while on terraces above women and children call down to us and wave as we pass by.

As we leave the hustle and chaos of the town our guide stops in front of a lovely field surrounded by fencing to point out what is growing there. Just then a young woman, dressed in leggings and a t-shirt, runs up to the fence and invites us all to come into their yard, offers us Chai, and makes places for us all to sit on large wooden frames woven with rope. I imagine these serve multiple purposes. Four goats, all tied to a stake with long ropes, are enjoying pile of fresh greens. All are wearing some sort of clothing to keep them warm. When we all agree to have Chai one young woman takes the utter bag off the goat and holds a silver pitcher under the utters and collects fresh, warm milk for the tea. It's boiled so very safe.

As we sit, taking in our surroundings, another woman, also dressed in western clothing, appears and our hostess introduces her as her sister. Both are in their early twenties and both are getting a college education. One of them goes over to a bed in the yard and picks up this adorable chunk of solid joy..Alex is his name. Soon grandma and the mother of the baby are introduced. Both wearing saris and both friendly and charming. Alex is introduced to me and of course I am thrilled to hold this adorable five month old baby. Grandma joins me on the cot and without knowing each other's language we share the love of this baby like we were related.