Namaste Jaisalmer

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  Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India
Sunday, November 23, 2008

So I'm standing on the train platform at New Delhi station, (back pack, front pack and a plastic bag)...Stop me if you've heard this one before...Kush, our Intrepid leader comes running up to inform us that, with just two minutes until the train leaves, our luxury carriage awaits us at the far end of the platform. Run for the train carriage we do and burst through the doors of the carriage just as the clock ticks over. We congratulate ourselves on our fitness levels as we move towards our seats, struggling not to decapitate small children with our packs. We attempt to sit down on them only to find that they are already filled. A long tense ten minutes parades past as Kush tries to sort out the problem. I was one of the first on the train, so I am right up the back of the carriage, wedged between a door and a large cupboard. After long discussions in Hindi and lots of pointing we find out we are in the wrong luxury carriage and have to get off the train and find our proper carriage. No problem, the train is still sitting at New Delhi station. Of course, as soon as this plan has been finalised the train pulls off from the platform and we are on our way to Jaisalmer - 22 hours West. Kush looks a little fearful and a new plan is formed -  we will hop off at the next station and move two carriages back. There is a door block that's been set up to stop the riff-raff getting through to the luxury section so we can't just walk through the train. No problemo, we can cope with that okay.

The train pulls into the platform and we are off - 12 foreigners with hiking boots, hats, sunglasses, cargo pants, water bottles, packets of chips and back packs, side packs an plastic bags. But it's not two carriages back, we've been a little mislead and we are forced to keep running back and back - past the chai-wallah, past the beggars, past the tearful farewell scenes, past the holy men asleep on the floor...Kush leads the group and we bolt down the crowded platform, covering three-quarters of the length of the train in a desperate charge. I'm bringing up the rear of the chain of course, and as the train starts to move and the rest of the group wails into our luxury carriage Kush hangs back and he, a Canadian girl Krista and I make a desperate leap for the nearest door.
There are amused men hanging out the door and I run towards them with arms outstretched 'SCUSEMSCUSEMESCUSEME!' I'm on, Kush is on and Krista is dragged aboard by the helpful onlookers just in the nick of time.
I'm first into the carriage (with back pack, side pack, plastic bag - Amy & Chris that's your shout-out!) and I wipe out a few unimpressed men as I swing around to gasp about our good luck to Krista, who is only slightly trembling. We endure 20 minutes of suspicious looks and rather unfriendly comments before bolting out the door and down the side of the train to our proper carriage.

It's not an auspicious beginning, but it's certainly a good introduction to India. The train trip is fairly uneventful. A lovely Scottish girl Carol - who is the most impressive talker I have ever come across - and I make friends with the Indian couple sharing our seats and we watch the countryside become sparse and arid as we sip chai and contemplate our bunk beds. We arrive at beautiful Jaisalmer late the next morning (but only by three hours, and that's the trains personal best) and rock our way gently through the fort town. Jaisalmer is known as 'SUNAHARA NAGAR' - the golden city and it is a pillar and plain of peace and restfulness after Delhi. (The man in the internet shop helped me spell that, my first attempt had a lot more consonants)

I quickly make friends with the houseboys as they lose my pants in the washing (luckily they turn up in Krista's room), ask me if I am from Brisbanesydneycanberramelbourneadelaidedarwinperthhobart?, attempt to help me up the three flights of steep steps with my backpack and fall over from the massive weight of it, teach me the word for 'a little' (tora tora) as I practise my Hindi/Urdu/Bengali on them, and serve us delicious and cheap food on the rooftop restaurant with the stunning view past the fort.

Jaisalmer is a city aware of it's beauty. The men are beautiful and lethargic, the women are desert-jewel colours of yellow, orange, red and hot pink, and the restaurants serve dishes overflowing with desert-peas and tomatoes grown in the small gardens.

'The thing about Indian people' an antique textile collector tells me as we lounge on the floor of his shop drinking chai, 'Is that we live outside, whereas you live inside. But it is not just outside of the houses  that we are living...we are living outside in the heart and the mind as well.' He's entirely right and I love that. The India people spend most of the days outside their stores, their houses, their cafes, talking, laughing, smoking and drinking endless cups of chai or bottles of pepsi. Information about our group is exchanged like lightening and within minutes of our arrival people ask us how our Intrepid tour is and when we are going on the camel safari. The men of Jaisalmer stop us in the streets to ask which country we are from, how long we will be in Jaisalmer and how much we love the country. Walking out of the fort can take up to an hour as we greet each men (and there are a lot of them) with 'Namaste...yes we will come back later we promise...just going for a walk...yes it is a nice day...you're right that is a beautiful and very cheap scarf...' Other men call out to us as we pass 'You are wel come to be spending money in my shop...99.9% discount!' 'You will be coming back later to spend your money?' 'Wel come to be here and buying!'
There is no notion that anything about ourselves will be private here, and questions that haven't even been raised within our group are asked of me the moment I enter a shop. It's a little disconcerting, but the answers to there own questions come right back at you and within minutes it has been established that you are firm friends. I'm aware that we are in places that bank on getting that all-important tourist dollar but it's a very wel coming (two words here) attitude and the friendliness is always genuine.

My textile collector friend in Jaisalmer insists I come each day for chai and a chat about Alexander the Great and Hinduism. He's very good-looking and an excellent salesman (they may go together for me, I'm not sure) but he's guaranteed himself a place in my mind because of the beautiful things he says about the people of India. 'If one person that you love is dying, than that is very sad. But before you know it you have one hundred people around you at once, and they are all doing the things for you that you cannot do yourself. They will not leave you and you will be thinking that your family is larger than you ever knew. '

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