Three quick plane flights transported me from the green jungles of Cambodia to
the urban cement jungles of Delhi. While I was a little reluctant to leave south
east Asia behind, I was definitely excited about a return visit to the exotic
lands of India and the fabled deserts of the Moghuls and Maharajas,
The culture shock was greatly reduced by the hospitality of a friend of Zen's
who now lives in Delhi. Rita invited me to stay in her beautiful home and the
bed was the most comfortable I have slept in since beginning my trip almost 12
months ago! To add to the indulgence, I even got to see the latest James Bond
flick "Tomorrow never Dies" in one of the large and surprisingly
modern Delhi theaters.
This little bit of luxury was a good thing. Being immersed in India by first
arriving in Delhi can be a little overwhelming as the sea of life that surrounds
you can overload the senses.
Old Delhi is an especially good place to take in the real India. As you walk
down the streets, the smell of Indian spices and curries being prepared taunts
the taste buds. The colourful and ever present flower shops add their own
delicate fragrances to the air with their jasmine and freshly cut roses.
However, you needed to be careful when inhaling too deeply as the pleasurable
aromas instantaneously give way to the smells of urine and rotting sewage.
The smell of the food being prepared by the many street vendors is inviting,
although better judgment kicks in when you notice the swarms of flies that cover
every square inch of the food and cooking implements.
The mass of humanity gives a constant workout to your eyes, as they would almost
involuntarily dart around, checking out the brightly coloured sarees and turbans
that are always in the peripheral vision.
What hits home the most is reality of life on the streets. Deformed cripples and
beggars call for your attention from every corner, scrawny men earn their living
by straining to pull brick laden hand carts down the narrow and congested
streets, children earn a few rupees by delivering cups of tea, and malnourished
feral pigs, dogs, goats, and cows sort through the sewage hoping to find a scrap
of food for their evening meal.
Every section of street and sidewalk is in continuous use, and the nearly
constant hissing of drivers and beeping of horns warn you to get out of the way
quickly or get run over. The cows even get into the act as they figure their
large size, sharp horns, and holy status gives them right of way.
As much as you try to remain a casual observer, you inevitably get sucked into
the chaos. Being a westerner, you become the instant target of every beggar,
street merchant, and rickshaw driver. Under employment means that they have all
the time in the world to try to relieve you of your money, and as subtlety is
not a word in the Indian vocabulary, the solicitations often feel like a
continuous assault.
"Postcards? Film? Mineral water? Cigarettes? ... Cheap price. Why you no
want?"
"Come in and see my shop ... only looking ... you are my first customer
today so I will give you a special morning price"
"Rickshaw? Rickshaw? Indian helicopter? Where you want to go? Cheap price!
5 rupees and I will take you anywhere!"
"Need train tickets? Airline tickets? Come step into my government
authorized travel agency."
"Change money? I give better rates!"
"Psst ... hashish, marijuana?"
And, of course, the incessant call from the children for "One pen ... one
rupee!" accompanied by a tug on the arm or pant leg when you don't
instantly acknowledge them.
They are relentless and will follow you everywhere hoping that you will
eventually break down and give in. When you don't immediately jump at their
offers, they switch to small talk hoping that this new intimacy will sway you
their way. If you ignore their attempts at small talk, they play off your
conscience trying to make you feel guilty for not acknowledging their attempt to
"just be friendly". I have even thought about having a shirt printed
that says:
My name is Ron I am from Canada I am 31 years old I am not married and NO I DO
NOT WANT ANYTHING!!!
It is a bit of a game figuring out how to deal with the constant harassment, and
learning the combination of body language that prevents them from following you
wherever you go. To be rude or polite. To smile or get angry. To acknowledge
them or ignore them. To distrust absolutely everyone, or to give some the
benefit of the doubt. It is definitely an acquired skill, and one that I am
constantly learning.
India keeps you on your toes in many ways, and dealing with the touts is one
small aspect. I often feel like I am seen not as a person, but as a walking
dollar sign, and all anyone is ever thinking about is how they can separate me
from my money. When approached by someone that you think is a rickshaw driver,
he may turn out to be a tout who turns your business over to a driver after
collecting his fee first. Touts will also secretly follow you to hotels or
shops, inflating the prices and collecting a commission without you even
realizing you were being followed. People will pester you at the main monuments
with their pathetic explanations of the sights, and then make a scene when you
don't pay them for this annoyance. Water bottles are resealed and resold, so you
always need to check them before buying. Eventually you think you have all the
tricks figured out when without fail they catch you off guard with a clever new
scam. Other times, you let your guard down for a minute and get re-caught with a
scam you had been so diligent about watching for previously. At least I don't
take it personally as they do it as much to each other as they do to foreign
visitors.
Despite the headaches, India has so many other things going for it that it is
one of my favourite travel destinations. As the tourists are dwarfed by India's
large population, you don't have to look far to get beyond the tourist shell and
get a glimpse of Indian life. The rich history and diverse landscape means there
is no shortage of things to see, and I am convinced that even a year of
traveling through India would not do it justice. On my last visit, I had touched
upon the province of Rajisthan, and I was excited about the opportunity to
return and explore it in more detail.
As coincidences would have it, I was arriving in Delhi the same day as Jason and
Susan, and we enjoyed getting together and catching up on all that had happened
during our travels over the previous six weeks.
More good fortune struck when a friend of Rita's showed up fresh from traveling
through South East Asia ready to head solo into Rajisthan. Since our itineraries
mostly overlapped, Aylin and I decided that it would be more fun to travel
together, and the next day we hopped on the train and headed to Sawai Madhopur.
Sawai Madhopur is a small town in the eastern fringe of Rajisthan whose only
real tourist interest is its proximity to the wildlife park Ranthambhore. Jason
and Susan had been fortunate enough to see a tiger there, so Aylin and I thought
we would try out our luck as well.
While our safari was one of the only ones that didn't manage to see a tiger, the
beautiful landscape and abundant wildlife did not disappoint us. In amongst the
forests, lakes, ravines, and waterfalls, we saw several species of deer, various
types of monkeys, crocodiles, monitor lizards, wild peacocks, bright green
parakeets, and many other forms of bird life.
The next destination was the quiet medieval town of Bundi with its imposing fort
overlooking the town and its palace built right into the hillside. We found a
really pleasant little "paying guesthouse" (Indian bed &
breakfast) run by a delightful family. Their house (known as a haveli) was 350
years old, and consisted of many rooms on three stories built around a pleasant
courtyard with its gardens and trees. Their roof afforded great views of the
Bundi fort. The quiet courtyard was a great place to relax and enjoy awesome
home cooked meals prepared by the eldest daughter.
Bundi is somewhat off the tourist track, so we enjoyed just wandering around the
twisty streets and watching Indian life go by. The town seemed quite prosperous
as the houses were in very good condition and decorated with fresh coats of
bright white and sky blue pastel paints over the bricks and cow dung plaster
that keep the houses cool. To balance this cleanliness, there was the usual
assortment of scrawny animals foraging in the refuse in the gutters.
The palace and fort showed the effects of their age, but were still an enjoyable
way to spend an evening watching the sunset. The palace is largely off limits
with the exception of some spectacular murals. The paintings included scenes
from the lives of the royal family such as battles, tiger hunts, and vain kings
and queens grooming themselves in front of mirrors. In typical Indian fashion,
the guards that were supposed to be keeping people out of the interior would
instead encourage tourists to step inside, provided they first paid 100 Rs for
the privilege.
Feeling a bit rushed with only 2 1/2 weeks to see Rajisthan, we left Bundi after
two pleasant days, tackling a grueling nine hour bus ride to Udaipur.
Udaipur is located right on a lake, and is famous for its many palaces on the
lake shore, on islands in the lake, and on the mountains that overlook town.
It is also famous as the city where much of the James Bond flick Octopussy was
filmed. It seemed that an appropriate way to start our visit was to have dinner
at one of the many cafes that showed the movie every night. This made it almost
nostalgic as we would see the palaces over the next few days and recall scenes
from the movie.
Besides visits to the palaces and walks along the lake, Aylin and I were
captivated by the beauty of the miniature paintings that were for sale in shops
all over Udaipur, and materialistic desires kicked in. The paintings are well
known for their attention to detail and their fine brush strokes, and the top
quality paintings are quite stunning.
Unfortunately, quality does not come cheap, and searching for the right painting
at the right price is not an easy task. After the first day of shopping around,
there was a beautiful painting of Radha and Krishna in a garden setting painted
on camel bone that I was ready to buy. However, an honest shopkeeper set me
straight when he told me that no paintings are done on camel bone, and the real
material is actually ivory imported illegally from Africa.
So, as usual, nothing in India comes easy and the search continued. Just before
leaving town Aylin and I found a couple of paintings on wood and paper that were
to our likings, and the acquisitional urges were satisfied.
Feeling pleased with our purchases, we undertook yet another exhausting journey
to the desert outpost of Jaisalmer near the Pakistan border. This time, the trip
involved a 7 hour bus ride followed by an evening train journey.
In the past, Jaisalmer was a very prosperous town due to its location on the
silk route. This is evident in the many elaborate havelis and the well preserved
fort that overlooks town. Currently about 60,000 people live in Jaisalmer of
which 6,000 live inside the fully functional fort.
We chose to find a room inside the fort with its views over the town and the
surrounding desert and its romantic atmosphere. As we would walk up the windy
road into the fort through the many massive walls and gates, it was easy to
imagine what a secure feeling it must have been in the days when bandits and
rival warlords were on the prowl. It almost felt like we were living a chapter
from the Tales of the Arabian Nights.
Our arrival in Jaisalmer coincided with the much anticipated beginning of the
festival of Holi. Holi begins with a day of religious rites such as lighting
bonfires to symbolize the destruction of the demon Holika. However, it is the
day after Holi that was really on our minds when everyone goes crazy and throws
coloured paints and powdered dyes on each other.
We were advised to not wear any good clothes, so I went out dressed in my 110 Rs
($3 US) brand new Indian outfit. I even wore a turban on my head to keep my hair
from being stained permanently pink (a really good idea in hindsight).
As we braced ourselves and walked out of the nice secure confines of our tourist
hotel, it took almost no time before we were covered head to toe in pink, green,
purple, yellow, and red dyes. Some were squirted at us through water guns or
thrown at us from water bottles, while powdered dyes were smeared on our faces
and clothes.
Eventually, Aylin and I decided to be brave and head out of the fort and into
the madness in town. While it was an interesting experience, it also brought out
the darkside of Holi. The excuse to be able to touch spelt bad news for foreign
women, who often found themselves the victim of unwanted attention and handling.
By mid day, we had had enough, and were quite amused to see ourselves in the
mirror. I didn't even recognize myself with my now multi coloured turban,
pinkish purple face, and green racing stripes on the cheeks. A half hour of
scrubbing removed most of the paints, and I didn't even try and clean the
clothes ... they went straight into the dumpster. The only reminder of the
incident was a splash of pink in my hair that lasted for the next couple of
weeks.
After spending the rest of the afternoon relaxing and recovering, we got ready
for the next adventure ... a three day camel safari that would be starting the
next morning.
The first part of the safari involved a jeep ride into the middle of the desert
where we would meet up with our camels and camel guides. The desert did not
match the stereotypical image of a land covered in sand dunes, but instead
consisted of a hard sandy ground with lots of bushes and the odd tree. The
landscape was mostly flat with the occasional village or hill to break up the
monotony.
Aylin, myself, and two British women were accompanied by three guides and six
camels. The camels in the Rajisthani deserts are valued possessions, and take
the place of cars as status symbols. As a result, camel fashion is extremely
important and they are decorated with jewelry and with patterns shaved into
their hides. I scored particularly well as my camel was tall, blond, and well
tattooed.
The camels reluctantly accepted our gear, food, and water for the next three
days, and soon we were ready to saddle up and head off into the desert. Mounting
a camel is an interesting process, and is one that I still wasn't used to even
by the end of the safari. The camels are way too tall to climb onto while
they're standing up, so the first step is getting the camel to crouch down into
its sitting position. Once sitting, it is quite easy to hop up into the saddle
and brace yourself for what comes next. When the camel gets up again, it stands
on its tall hind legs first causing you to lurch forward, feeling like you are
about to be thrown face first into the ground that is now rapidly rising up
before you. A few seconds later, the camel stands up completely leaving you on
your perch about seven feet off the ground.
When the camels are walking at their leisurely pace, the ride is incredibly
soothing and relaxing. They have a distinctive rhythm to their stride that is
almost mesmerizing. The solitude and silence of the barren desert landscape
leaves you alone with your thoughts, which is the perfect antidote to the usual
Indian travel days where people, animals, sights, and smells are always in your
face demanding immediate attention.
Unfortunately, camels are not nearly so graceful when being forced to trot, and
their lurching up and down as they bounced along the trail meant for a much less
contemplative ride as all attention is focused on minimizing the impact on your
buttocks, and preventing the chaffing of the thighs.
Camels, being very mellow creatures, are extremely reluctant to trot, and always
needed to be coaxed. I was told that a quick whip with the reigns would send
them on their way, and it indeed seemed to do the trick. However, I preferred a
gentler approach, so I tried to imitate the sounds that our guides would make.
This would always get the camel's attention, even though the majority of the
time the camel would just quickly glance back and then look ahead with a
"he doesn't really mean it and why should I listen to him anyways"
attitude. My next step would be to simply dangle the reigns in the camel's
peripheral vision to let him know I was serious about getting him to run. At
this point, the camel would glance back and then quickly look forward pretending
he didn't see the reigns. I could then almost picture the thoughts going through
the camel's head as he would think about what I would be doing next if he didn't
start running, at which point he would take one more quick glance back at the
reigns, and then break into a trot. Everything in India always involves complex
negotiations!
A typical day on the camel safari involved a few hours of riding in the morning
when it was cool, followed by a long lunch in the middle of the day. Our guides
would cook up some spicy and soupy lentils, known as dal, along with some
chapatis which are an Indian bread somewhat like a thin whole wheat pancake. The
chapatis were used to scoop up the dal, as no eating utensils were provided, and
it was all washed down with Indian milk tea made from black tea leaves, fresh
ginger, and cardamoms.
In the afternoon, we would ride for an hour and get into our campsite with
enough time to relax a bit while our hosts would prepare a meal basically
identical to what was for lunch.
Our first campsite was on the fringe of some large dunes which we were able to
slog our way up to find a scenic place to sit and watch the setting sun. After
dinner, we simply relaxed and enjoyed the night sky with its satellites,
shooting stars, and the milky way.
We slept right under the stars on a large rug and with many blankets to take the
edge off the surprisingly cold desert nights. When I would wake up in the middle
of the night, the nearly full moon made the landscape glow. In the morning, it
was an interesting first image to see the long necks of the camels peeking at us
from over a bush, while batting their eyelashes and chewing on their cud.
Their comical faces reminded me more of a muppet or cartoon character than a
living animal. Their long and thick eyelashes, split lips, large nostrils, and
buck teeth seemed too exaggerated to be real, and their faces at times almost
reminded me of Bugs Bunny without the ears. Their feet were big and floppy,
almost like snowshoes, and there was a large pad in their chest which they used
to absorb the shock and weight when sitting down.
The next two days of the safari took us back from the dunes and right to the
Jaisalmer fort. On the last desert lunch stop, we were given an interesting
glimpse into life in a desert village when we had our food prepared in the home
of Hussein who was one of our guides.
His home was small and incredibly modest. It was maybe six by eight feet across,
with walls made out of stone and a roof made from decaying branches and other
miscellaneous objects including a hubcap. There was a single bed mat on one
side, and a simple stove on the other. He had a minimal number of possessions
which included some blankets, a few clothes, some cooking implements, and a
small ghetto blaster with a few tapes.
Hussein lives alone as he is a forty year old single man. He has never married
since his family spent all their money on weddings for his older brothers, and
Hussein can't afford the 20,000 rupees ($500 US) pricetag for a wedding. I knew
that the bride needed a lot of money to pay for the dowry, but I hadn't realized
that the groom needed an approximately equal amount of money to pay for the
wedding. I was later informed that for the higher castes, the price tag for
weddings is even higher, costing as much as 300,000 rupees ($7,500 US).
Back in Jaisalmer, our bruised and shaken bodies enjoyed the break from the
camels, and we spent a couple of days relaxing before tackling a night bus and
the 10 hour journey to Pushkar.
Pushkar is the site of religious pilgrimages of Hindus who come here to enjoy a
cleansing bath in the holy waters of Pushkar Lake. The lake and a few
surrounding temples are the only real tourist attractions, although the mellow
and religious atmosphere has turned Pushkar into a bit of a hippy hang-out. Many
people stay here for weeks or months, and as a result, there is quite a
sophisticated tourist infrastructure built up with cheap hotels and many shops
and restaurants to help pass the time. Interestingly, alcohol, meat, and even
eggs are banned from sale within Pushkar, while every shop sells special (bhang)
lassis - for medicinal purposes, of course.
I was only able to enjoy two days of chilling out before I got on yet another
night bus and headed to Delhi where I was reunited with Zen. Zen received a
month off from her work in Bombay, and we will be traveling together through
India, up into Nepal and on to Tibet.
Ron
p.s. For those of you I haven't already told, I will not be coming back in May
as I originally planned. Instead, I have extended my trip by six months and will
be returning to California in early November.
