Why didn’t anyone warn us that, even during the tailend of the monsoon, it never really gets cool in India? There are five seasons in Gandhi country: spring, summer, fall, winter and monsoon. When 14 travelers from Bench flew to New Delhi last Aug. 3, the climate was hot and humid. It would stay that way for the five days we were there.
India is mysterious and exotic. It’s as opulent as its many palaces converted into five-star hotels. It’s as impoverished as the many make-shift tents converted into sleeping quarters for the nomads, Indians with no permanent address. It can still be a mild shock to see people relieve themselves along the highways, or worse, squat and let loose the waste from their bodies. But you also see sari-clad women dancing along the way. The sense of culture is very strong in the country. We never saw an Indian woman in a western outfit, come to think of it (so where were those fabulous Misses India?).
After the heat comes the scent of India. The scent of men working under the sun days on end, the scent of various exotic oils sold in the market, the scent of curry and other spices in the kitchen.
Bench stylist Noel Manapat wanted Bench photographer Ronnie Salvacion to capture the visual "essence" of India: camels and cows and dung on the road, colorful saris and kurtas in the markets, palaces and mudhouses.
"For that, you have to go to the heart of India," Bharat Gohel said. The Bench supplier said our first choice of Bombay was wrong. "Bombay is the financial capital of India, very much like Makati." If we wanted the India from history books, travel magazines and the National Geographic Channel, we have to go to the old blue city of Jodhpur, or the old pink city of Jaipur, both of which lie in the desert.
Instead of flying to Bombay, we rerouted our trip to New Delhi.
And how was Delhi? We really don’t know. We got to Le Meridien Delhi at 2 a.m. after a three-hour stopover in Bangkok. We were at the NAIA at 12 noon and the passage to India was really quite tiresome. By 6 in the morning, after a quick four hours of sleep, we met at the coffee shop for breakfast. By 7:30 we began our journey to the Taj Mahal.
The Taj is located in Agra, a good four hours away from Delhi. Thus, while our main models Jomari Yllana and Assunta de Rossi preferred to catch up on their sleep, the rest – Ben Chan, Virgilio and Nene Lim, Miguel Pastor, Bryan Lim, Jojo Liamson, Mommy de Rossi, Krist Bansuelo and Eugene de Guzman – were busy imbibing the view of the countryside from our air-conditioned bus.
The Taj Mahal is one of India’s most potent cultural symbols, its most famous landmark. Going to India and not seeing the 17th century white marble mausoleum is like gong to New York without seeing the Statue of Liberty.
It is an impressive monument to love, constructed by the emperor Shah Jahan for his deceased wife Mumtaz. But no matter the need for a calendar shot or a print layout, Jomari said vehemently that he was not going to pose anywhere near the Taj Mahal. "Malas daw," he said. "Sabi ni Joey de Leon." The late Princess Di was shot there all by her lonesome, and two months after, her marriage to Prince Charles collapsed. Jomari, who’s working hard on his own troubled marriage, does not want to really take the risk.
Which was just as well because it rained when we got to the white palace. We just toured the lavish grounds and did not even pose for pictures. Jomari’s "fear" was contagious.
We got to Delhi quite late and had to be in bed by 11 o’clock for our 6 a.m. flight to Jodhpur.
They call Jodphur the blue city because 80 percent of the houses there are painted different shades of blue. Quite a stunning view from The Fort (where Disney shot The Jungle Boy). Jodhpur relies heavily on the tourism trade.
It’s the India we wanted: wealth and poverty.
We stayed at the Balmasand Heritage Hotel, a hunting lodge owned by a king, with a smaller palace and a manmade lake at the back.
We hired three camels for the underwear shoot of Jomari and Assunta. But after waiting patiently for three hours, one camel stood up, and walked out! "Aba, hindi pa, ako nagaganyan ng model ko!" exclaimed Ronnie Salvacion with amusement.
It was a hectic photo shoot, the most difficult ever for Bench. The heat was killing all of us almost to the point of dehydration. The food was "strange" to our taste buds. They don’t serve beef (the cow is "sacred" to them, and Muslims which comprise 30-40 percent of the population do not eat pork!) and we only saw chicken, muttons and lentils in the buffet table.
But the locales were fantastic and the people cooperative. Used to seeing tourists, they automatically offered a smile whenever you took their pictures.
India will always be a pleasant memory for Bench. To avoid the heat, we can always choose to go there during winter. Although it does not snow in India, temperatures can drop by 10 degrees in the evening.
But then, it wouldn’t have to be for an underwear campaign.
Baka naman manumonya ang models!