Rats, camels and bad breath
Trip Start
Dec 05, 2004
1
6
25
Trip End
Jan 17, 2005
Bikaner,
India
Saturday, December 11, 2004
Girl in Bikaner
Then off to see some other somewhat dirty animals a hundred times larger - camels. Our camel safari across the desert was led by Manoj, he had the gift of the gab and a wicked sense of humour! After 20 minutes on top of one of these great big camels, I decided that my legs, back and private areas would probably not thank me if I carried on - horses? yes, camels? what's the point. So I got off and hopped onto the camel cart laden with blankets and mattresses. The only problem was that in front of me was a camel breaking wind and relieving herself every five minutes and right behind me was another camel with the most appalling bad breath, trying to kiss me! After a lunch of veggie pakoras made fresh by our camel wallahs (which to be honest I didn't eat as I was off my food and didn't eat in fact for the next few days), Michelle joined me on the camel cart - wise choice as John and Sarah paid for it over the following days - ouch! Manoj told us stories of Hindu gods, his beliefs in reincarnation, the caste system and how westerners, especially women are perceived. We made camp on the sand dunes and watched a most spectacular red sunset. A sing song around the fire - Hindi and English songs, finished with us all throwing blankets over ourselves to keep out the freezing cold (7 degrees) and peering at the stars, before the others all went off to sleep. I kept guard through the night throwing stones at the stray dogs when they got too close
Rat Temple at Bikaner
.The crisp morning brought a few rays of sunshine and we soon warmed up for our trip back to Bikaner, this time all of us on the camel carts. We plodded through tiny villages (just a few low square constructions and a lot of dust and sand). Very few tourists pass through these villages, so the children and villagers were genuinely curious and excited to see us. The sweet kids chased after us, others standing on rooftops all shouting Ram Ram or Namaste or Tata and just staring at us, the shy ones occaisionally breaking out into big smiles. Women carrying bundles on their heads from their thatched roof homes covered their faces with their scarves and peered out from underneath. Men put their palms together as a sign of welcome.
Back at the hotel, Michelle went to bed with a bad case of the runs and I went out to the Old City again to browse the material shops (when I say shops, they are rooms open onto the street with cushions on the floor for prospective buyers to sit and sip chai whilst contemplating and haggling over their purchases). Luckily I stimbled on a pedestrian market area which was quiet (all relative) and sat on the floor (shoes off) whilst other people came and bought material from a rainbow spectrum of reams of material from floor to ceiling
Safari sunset
. Then may turn came. Over some sweet spicy chai I browse some salwar suit material and selected a turquoise and blue crepe one and a red and gold one (from sari material) - I had these made up later in Jaislamer by one of the abundant tailors for the princely total sum of 900 rs (11 pounds)! Braving the main street again, I felt a lot more at home than first time. Maybe because I was by myself (dark hair and salwar suit) didn't stick out a much as when with fair hair and skinned Michelle - although I certainly didn't blend in either. I browsed the ladies stall - bras, toiletries, bindis, makeup and bangles - a quite accessible alternative to the sanitised world of Boots. The pharmacy stall down the road, where I got some Electrolite powder for my patient sold any drug I wanted without a prescription. Talking of drugs, marjhuana is seen as a "holy" substance here for use in the temple. However if you order a "special" in a bar or restaurant - like a special lassi - it has an extra kick to it, if you get my drift - apparently!!!!Back at the hotel, I saw a guy lighting some candles stuck to a branch and a girl singing. I realised they were Israelis celebrating Chanukah and went down to join them - it felt kind of strange but comforting to be singing Mao Tzur in the middle of a town reverberating with the shrill/melodic/bloody loud drumming, chanting, singing from the zillions of Hindu temples around us.
