Osian

  Osian, India
Tuesday, October 9, 2007

We had wanted to go to Jaisalmer, but on saturday some villagers found 23 dead cows in the forest and returned to town to grab the local equivalent of pitchforks and torches and paid a visit to the muslim neighbourhood. The riots that ensued left at least 1 dead and several shops burned down. A police crackdown followed and the place was sealed off for the rest of the week. That's why we are going to Osian instead.

Osian is known for two major temples, a very old Jain temple and a large Hindu temple. Furthermore, it is the closest place to Jodhpur from which it is possible to go on a camelsafari into the desert. We ring Reggie's camelsafari from the hostel. Yes, he does organise camelsafaris and there is availability. The price? Rs 8500 for one night. Never mind...

Indu informs us that it should be possible to get a cameltour including camping a night in the desert for about Rs 400. There's a weird French guy in the hostel who also wants to go, so the three of us head to the busstation to find a bus to Osian.

We are dropped off near the temple, the busdriver assuming that's where we want to go. Unfortunately, it's a long walk from there to the actual town where we assume we can book a safari, especially since we take the wrong road and walk around town rather than into it. Anyway, after asking several wide-eyed locals (we are obviously the only tourists around) and walking about 5 kilometers through the desert heat we finally see a fort on top of a sanddune.

Once we get there and are led inside through the back entrance / garbage dump we enter a true oasis of colonial splendour. A swimming pool surrounded by richly decorated mahogany deckchairs, trimmed lawns and staff in spotless safari uniforms. This does not look like it's designed with customers like us in mind.

An Indian version of Jeeves appears, hands clasped behind his back, a little bow after every sentence and an oxford accent. But of course it's possible to go on a camelsafari, Madam, Sirs. Bow. The price would be a mere Rs 8500, including a one night stay in one of our luxury tents. Bow. Hmmmm... I think I know where we are.

"We are looking for something slightly different. Along the lines of camel into desert - sleep anywhere - camel back - pay Rs 400." - Aaaahhhhhhh. I shall call the manager. Bow.

Reggie appears. Good-humoured, in jeans and ray-bans, and understanding our (and his)predicament. There's no way he's going to make money out of us. But he's willing to give it some thought. He asks his staff some questions, asks us what it is what we exactly want and offers us a jeep ride into the desert, a night's stay with the family of one of his Rajput staff members in a little village in the desert, and a camelride back in the morning, for Rs 550. We take it. Sleeping with a Rajput family sounds far more interesting than a little tent in the sand somewhere and we have no clue where else to go.

The jeep bounces through what they call desert but reminds me more of an African Savannah. The real sand dunes are outside Jaisalmer and stretch into Pakistan - that is where most hollywood movies are shot when they need desert scenes to remind us of Lawrence in Arabia. But this is cool too, and Jaisalmer is notoriously touristy, whereas here we appear to be the only ones.

village kid

rajput village

The village is a more like a small collection of huts in the middle of absolutely nowhere. No road, no fence, no fields or a proper clearing. I count 4 huts and one brick house. Furthermore, the son of the house proudly tells us they have 3 cows and 3 goats. I see no sign of crops, so I suppose they buy them of the other 'villages' with the money the father makes with camelsafaris. They speak no English and we don't know what to do really, so trod up the hill to watch the sunset. The village kids follow and observe our every move. They love to have their picture taken and keep thrusting their faces into the lense whilst exclaiming 'photo photo'. It's no use trying to explain that the minimum distance for a photo is more than 5 millimeters. I keep backing up to get a proper shot but they run after me immediately and glue their foreheads to the camera.

desert hut at dusk

After sunset it remains relatively bright from the light of the moon and stars and we sit around talking for a while. The family has disappeared into the house without a word and we suppose we are to wait outside for diner. There's a smell of woodfire and we hear the clanging sounds of metal pots and pans, but 2 hours later there's still no sign of food or people. The frenchman thinks they might have forgotten us. Yeah right, like you would forget if ET came over for dinner with his mates to your house. It's finally getting dark when a sheet is spread on the mud elevation in front of the house and 3 wooden tables, anklehigh, are placed upon it.

rajput family

An old Sikh appears and gestures us to take place. The food is thali, a combined platter of rice, curry - which strangely tasts like spicy eggyoke, pickled vegetable - possibly cabbage, and dal - spiced lentils. It's lacking in salt but the pickled cabbage is really tasty and the curry is weird but nice. There is chapati bread to go with it and later freshly baked brown bread, a type of paratha, with a wonderful woodfire aroma. The Sikh points a big flashlight at each of us alternatively so we can see where we put our spoons - or in case of the native-going Frenchy, hands - and croaks: "gooooooood....yeeeeeessssss.....yeeeeeeeessssss". The meal is topped off with fresh goatyoghurt - at least, I hope that's what it was. Once we're all done he takes out a pouch and unwraps something resembling brown rocksugar. He breaks off a piece the size of a cornkernel for each of us and motions to eat it. It smells and tasts of tobacco candy. I am yet to find out what it was. Opium? Me and Raquel both have weird dreams about our childhood that night... The beds are decent enough, soft and cleaner than expected. There is no door in the room though and the moonlight shines in, reminding me that animals might follow on its rays anytime I close my eyes. Raquel and weird frenchy sleep within minutes. It's 8.30 in the evening. I doze off about 2 hours later and wake up fresh and fit around 5 a.m. My life is taking a bizarre twist.

turban

The camels have been brought over, I find them standing behind the house when I look for an appropriate spot to call toilet. Around 6 we have chai and just after sunrise, 6.30-ish it's time to mount the beasts. The camels bend through their legs and lie belly-down in the dirt to allow an easy mount. It's easier than I thought. Until the camels raise themselves to their full height. Bloody hell! I can see my house from here! It's really high and wobbly. We each have uor own camel, with a 'driver' positioned behind us. The camels don't move steadily forward but rather proceed in diagonal shocks. Left-forward - SHOCK, right-forward - SHOCK! I'm shaking all over the place, tighly hold on to the saddleknob and press my legs into the camel's flanks. I can't imagine being able to stay on it for another 5 minutes, and we have about 2 hours to go.

We trod through a cornfield, my feet brushing the tops of the remaining stalks. When we climb a little sanddune it's like the start of a rollercoaster, slowly rattling up, getting ready for freefall. And indeed, the camel seriously picks up in pace going down. This is rodeo. I have no illusions about staying on it, just hope I won't be the first to fall. The desert is much more fertile than you might expect. Fruit trees, chilis, corn, hay, grains, there are fields near most villages and only the garlic seems to require additional watering. The villagers wave and shout hello, then continue harvesting hay. My camel has a mind of its own and stops every now and then to take a bit of a particularly tasty tree or bush. It actually eats thornbush, the spikes longer than a fingernail. The driver coaches the camel to proceed with clicking sounds and gentle tugs at a leash. In a bend I can see Raquel enjoying herself over my shoulder. Weird Frenchie is his usual expressionless zen wanna-be. I start to chuckle. Sunrays glimpse over a hill and shower distant village huts in sparkles of light. A peacock flies past, straight as a plane. Three deer are drinking from a puddle. It's so peaceful that I finally start to relax and thus find the rhythm that allows me to gently bounce with the cadence of the camel.