What happened this summer?
UTM students share summer memories of Ontario’s Studio Ghibli Summer Market and touring the historical city of Jaipur
The Summer Returns: An Escape to Ghibli
By April Roy
I spent this summer working full-time at Tim Hortons. My tasks and work environment were exhausting and stressful. It put a damper on my time to relax and unwind. However, it made the fun little adventures with my friends mean so much more.
A particularly memorable experience I had was going to the Studio Ghibli Summer Market, located at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre (JCCC) in North York, with a fellow University of Toronto Mississauga student. We both love the Ghibli films and went dressed in outfits inspired by Kiki’s Delivery Service.
The commute to the centre was lengthy as we had to take a GO bus, subway, and streetcar to reach the market. However, both of us were regular commuters, and we enjoyed the scenery on the way.
Immediately upon arriving at the venue, we were welcomed by workers dressed in kimonos. We were overjoyed to see the lively market, filled with other Ghibli fans and vendors selling creative memorabilia.
There were over one hundred vendors located in one room: each one an artist with a distinct brand identity and artistic style. We spent an hour taking everything in: macarons in the shape of beloved Studio Ghibli characters, drinks inspired by Studio Ghibli films, hair clips made entirely of buttons, bookmarks donning incredibly detailed landscape paintings, and beautiful watercolour paintings of Studio Ghibli films and characters.
Photo provided by April Roy
As history buffs, my friend and I went further into JCCC to learn about Japan’s involvement in the world wars, stories about Japanese emigrants and the adversities they faced in different countries.
Ultimately, what made the day so magical was the environment. Every employee and vendor was friendly and the weather that day truly captured the spirit of Studio Ghibli: refreshing, scenic, and calming. The market typically runs two days during the summer every year, so my friend and I are sure to attend next summer!
Memories created this summer, both the ups and downs, have prepared me for my third year of university and what it has to offer.
The Palaces of Water, Wind, and Royalty
By Grisha Sharma
I had not been back to India in almost two years and I had not visited Jaipur since my early high school years. I saw what I expected from my hometown Delhi: flooded streets, unending rows of cars and rickshaws, and crowded metro stations. The same did not apply to Jaipur.
In addition to the delicious cuisine and handmade jewellery, a day of touring the city’s three major palaces, Jal Mahal, Hawa Mahal, and the City Palace encapsulated the meaning of an ideal vacation.
The Water Palace
A palace floated far from our view at the edge of a muted grey-blue lake as we exited the car. The Jal Mahal was a former hunting lodge, expanded and redesigned to suit the grandiosity of its title.
Flamingos observed the line of tourists standing across the slab, which separated us from the water and white ducks swam towards the structure. We could not move further as the public was restricted from entering the palace.
The Jal Mahal is often lauded as the crown jewel of Jaipur, a heavenly abode nowhere to be found in any other part of the world.
Part of me thought of it only as a forbidden decoration not to be tampered with. I wonder if its enchanting status stems from the mystique of its interior to the public. The locals in Jaipur are intimately connected with their famed monuments, but this marvel constructed in water seems to have eluded them, both as a lodge in the past and a palace now.
The Palace of Winds
If the Jal Mahal represented the enclosed space for royal men, then the Hawa Mahal embodied the chambers for royal women. The pink honeycomb structure loomed over the muddy streets. Hundreds of small windows overlooked the bustling markets, with vendors boasting patterned fabrics, and the rising odour of street food filling the air.
I doubt that eighteenth century aristocrats could imagine the palace’s current surroundings: roads being jammed by four-wheeled machines, and voices drowned out by endless honking. When I entered the palace, I expected the noise to cease behind me, but the monument was built for confined women to embrace this bedlam.
The fountain centred on the first floor sprayed refreshing droplets around the area, accompanying the cool breeze breaking through the window. Unlike Jal Mahal, the seclusion in the Hawa Mahal was facilitated by hidden seated pockets across the palace, reserved for queens and princesses. This sandstone edifice serves as a lens to the city, providing an encompassing view of the market from each angle. When the women had satiated their boredom, they would return to their main residence.
The Palace of Royalty
I most looked forward to visiting the official residence of the city’s royal family. I searched through the palace’s various chambers and courtyards on Wikipedia during the car ride there. I expected a grand entrance, but instead I encountered strange men shoving pamphlets in our faces, asking six dollars for a detailed guided tour of the place.
Waving them aside, I led my family to Pritam Nawas Chowk—the Courtyard of the Beloved. As we walked in, my sister and I threw glances towards tourists posing in front of the palace’s iconic Peacock, Lotus, Rose, and Waves Gates. They spread their hands beneath the paintings of three peacocks, dazzling blue torsos and tri-coloured feathers, and leaned against ornate sprouting pink lotuses.
Photo provided by Grisha Sharma
“Some poor artist painted that masterpiece only to be reduced to some random couple’s Instagram post,” said my sister. While her comment rang true, as we delved further into the courtyards, I realized that no tourist could compete with Queen Gayatri Devi, the last maharani (wife of a monarch) of Jaipur for the title of best model in the palace. The glamorous consort could be found in pictures next to those of the city’s king, the crown prince, the English king, the first prime minister, and many other powerful figures of the 20th century.
The courtyards had once held public halls, hosted grand dancing performances, and heard the sound of the most revered singers of the city. Now, they teem with tourists taking selfies with cannons, sipping cappuccinos from the palace cafe while half-listening to guides prattling about the genealogy of rulers that one could see for themselves in the cultural museum inside the palace.
As a history student, a conflict arose within me on my train ride back to the capital. Tourism has been an integral part of the state’s economy, and it exposes the public to the rich culture of Jaipur.
However, I was uncomfortable with the incessant sellers, tourists who used these structures as social media backgrounds, and those who purposefully ignored the colonial context that followed the construction of these buildings in favour of ticket sales.
Will these palaces’ historical importance ever be appreciated as much as their commercialized purposes? The tourists, guides, the royal family, and the government all depend on them to profit. I doubt there is a path to change this situation.
Commodity or not, the Pink City has always been precious to my heart. I look forward to venturing further in these palaces and their histories when I return in two years. For now, Toronto will have to suffice.
