Mobbed by children in remote Marwari villages

Trip Start Dec 05, 2004

Trip End Jan 17, 2005

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Flag of India Benshwara, India
Friday, December 17, 2004

Our jeep took us out into the remote desert countryside of Southern Rajhastan. Stopping briefly to see some carpet weaving at a Bishnoi village, we bumped along tracks passing camels grazing, women carrying bundles of firewood on their heads with their children following behind also carrying heavy loads. We arrived at a large country house, our retreat for the night, located in a remote village called Benshwara. A 17 year old girl came with her mother to henna my hands (however lots of women are now laughing at the amateurish designs), and we then took a jeep deeper into the countryside where there are leopards who sometimes kill children in the villages and gazelles.

We stopped at our first Marwari village - basically an ensemble of huts around a well and a little temple room. All the children rushed out to see us. Unlike some of the villages frequently visited by tourists, these kids see westerners maybe a few times a month and so they are not 'corrupted' by the idea of us giving them coins or pens. Having been worried that we would feel voyeuristic, it turned out that we were the star attraction. The children stared, pulled at our clothes, examined my henna, one of them even started examining my hair for nits! They of course didn't speak a word of English, so we found other ways of communicating with them - playing clap hands, taking their photos and showing them on the digital review (this was really exciting for them). Their mothers looked on shyly as we walked up holding hands with their children.

Family photo at village

One woman (or I should say girl) was only 18 and she'd already had 3 children (although officially 18 is the earliest a woman can marry). This was real tribal life - no electricity, no running water, very little clothing for the children, basic one roomed homes, lots of stray dogs, pigs, goats and of course cows. When we went back to the jeep to leave, the children especially the bolder (quite rough and tumble) older girls kissed my hands repeatedly as a sign of friendship. I hope to get the photos we took developed and posted back to Intrepid so that someone can take them back to the villages as these children have no photos of themselves or their parents - what a treat!

The second village we went to was a little larger with a lot of livestock. Turbaned men were bringing back flocks of sheep, herds of goats and horned cows (apparently they eat meat in this village), hens clucking everywhere. Women were drawing water from the well. There were probably a hundred children of all ages, some looking healthier than others, a jumble of clothing, although some of the boys were in the ubiquitous blue school uniform (most of the children don't go to school but where there is one, the oldest boy will go). We were mobbed at this village. They all wanted photos taking and the quieter girls who politely teamed up with their friends and pointed to have their picture taken, were obstructed by the little boys - well boys will be boys and they had to get in on the act. It actually felt like running a kids party - with me shouting "all the boys on this side" and "all the girls over here" and huge gesturing. They were great mimics too, they picked up our English words very quickly and copied everything we said! Whilst I was distracting and fighting off the kids, Michelle surreptitiously managed to get some great shots of the women and men going about their jobs - great weather worn faces. It was all we could do though to avoid being trampled by the herds of livestock making their way back home!

After watching the sunset over the mountains, we went back to our retreat and had a Rajasthani meal (we were the only guests of the house) dressed in borrowed saris and turbans!