Pushkar, Hippieland

  Pushkar, India
Friday, December 7, 2007

Pushkar

Pushkar, a holy place for white hippies, apparently. It does have a pretty lake front with all the buildings painted the same indigo color. From what I can see, Pushkar has a temple for about every 100 residents or about every 5 hippies. And it has a lot of rules. You can't schmooch (sic), you can eat neither meat nor eggs, you certainly can't drink, you can't smoke (fine with me), and, mysteriously, one of the rules asks tourists not to let their cattle wander into town. I don't know about you, but I keep my cattle on a short leash when I travel. So, that's not a problem. Nonetheless, cattle wander (and defecate) everywhere, up every alley and onto the holy ghats where no human is allowed to wear shoes.

Tourists, tend to your cattle

That's about all I can think to share about Pushkar. If I were a true hippie I suppose I would have more positive things to say. I'd probably be telling you that I want to move here and raise a hippie family or about all the cool baggy pants that I bought (because it seems that 21st century hippies really like to shop, especially here).

Other Thoughts

More on contrasts: most women wear bright, color-coordinated saris of startling and beautiful oranges, yellows or greens. I can't help but take photo after photo of the stunning outfits. Men, on the other hand, seem happy to wear the first pair of pants, the first long sleeve shirt and the first sweater vest that they run across. Navy blue pants, purple and gray striped shirt and with an orange knit sweater vest? Sure...go for it.

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Monkeys in town

I have adopted a couple new expressions which arose from moments on the road.

1. After the Annapurna trek, back in Kathmandu before starting the Everest terk, in a desperate attempt to repair my destroyed trekking shoes, I wandered around looking for a real cobbler shop. I found none. However, I did find a place that said it made bags and advertised, "We make anything." I thought to myself, "Self, shoes falls in the category of 'everything'. And, they're kind of like a bag...holds something and has one hole at the top." So, I popped in and asked the fellow if he'd repair my shoes. He looks at me a moment, incredulous, and says, "I am a Bag Man. I make Bags. I do not fix shoes. I do not fix watches. I am not a watch man. I am not a shoe man. I am a Bag Man. You know this."

Pushkar

2. In Pelling, right after I took a seat atop the wall of the old Sikkim capital ruins, as I stared off to the foothills of the Himalayas towards the northeast, a young boy probably about 14 joins me. He starts into what I call The Foreigner-With-Tourist conversation (Hello. Where are you from? What is your name? Are you married? Why not? etc.) When the familiar twenty questions conversation died down, he and I sat quietly for a bit. Then he pointed out that beyond the nearby trees, smoke rose from a cremation occurring there. When I looked over and sort of raised my eyebrows, he says to me, "Population...decreasing."

So, my new expressions are

1. "You know this." A term that I apply now to any situation which seems obvious to an Indian but not to me.

Monkeys in the countryside

2. "Population...decreasing." A term that I now apply to any situation that seems somewhat deadly or dangerous, (like walking along a street), or involves death (like common sightings of cremations or a corpse coming out the door next to the kiosk where I'm buying a soda).

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Ok, I'm off to a tofu dinner.