DESERT STORM: A TOUR OF RAJASTHAN

February 12, 2009 10:20 AM

Idalis:

After two and a half months of traveling in southern India on old trains, rusty buses, and death-defying rickshaws, Kevin and I have decided to treat ourselves to a car tour through the northern area of Rajasthan. We were really looking forward to seeing this area, as all of our quintessential images of India comes from Rajasthan: desert sand dunes, camels, women in brightly colored saris, and men in orange turbans. But, we had also been warned by fellow travelers (and in our research) by the comparative harshness of the north: aggressive touts, hordes of tourists, difficult transportation, frenetic cities, extreme poverty, and staunchly traditional. We thought we had already seen it all in the south! Despite the inconveniences, we wanted to see Rajasthan, and decided to make it easier on ourselves by splurging on an 18 day car tour. After looking over our finances and doing the math, we realized it was still cheaper to hire a private driver for a day in India than to stay in a hostel in Europe. Our decision was made even easier by a Christmas contribution by Kevin's parents. We were sold!

Mandawa





Our first stop was Mandawa, about 7 hours southwest of Delhi. Mandawa is known for its famous havelis, beautiful dilapidated mansions painted with colorful murals. After checking in to Hotel Shekhawati, an old haveli with eye-catching paintings, we decided to hire a local young man to be our guide and show us around town. We walked around Mandawa and admired several of the crumbling havelis, many with paintings of various Hindu deities, elephants, or scantily clad female dancers. Our young guide started out well enough, but eventually became more interested in chewing and spitting his paan (a mild stimulant made from betel nut and wrapped in a leaf), or in bringing us into one of his many relatives' shops to just “have a look.” Oh well, I guess that's what you get for a two-dollar tour!

Bikaner







The next day it was off to Bikaner, about 4 hours west of Mandawa. The city itself was smoggy and full of traffic, but the impressive Junagarh Fort made up for it. We wandered through the rooms, marveled at such richly decorated interiors, and looked over the city of Bikaner, which appeared much nicer from higher up.

That night, we drove an hour out of Bikaner to the village of Deshnok, which has the most bizarre place Kevin and I have visited yet: the Karni Mata Temple, otherwise known as the “rat temple.” These special rats that live in the temple are known as kabas, and devotees believe that these little creatures are reincarnated souls saved from the wrath of Yama, the god of death. We left our shoes outside and walked into the Twilight Zone. Everywhere inside were free-roaming rats, scurrying about, drinking milk, or being fed by devoted followers. I tried not to think about the rat droppings crunching beneath my bare feet, but instead focused my attention on avoiding them, since stepping on one means donating a gold medal of a rat to placate the deity. Kevin had two rats scurry over his feet (a sign of good luck) and I had one nibble on my left pinky toe (I squelched the panic rising up inside of me), so we should be blessed for a long time to come.

Indians can be quite peculiar sometimes, asking us what we Westerners would consider to be very personal questions, but for them is no big deal. We're often asked about our friends and family, how long we've been married, why we don't have children, and what our salaries are back home. They also have a very skewed view of Americans, assuming that we are all rich and very promiscuous. I do think though, that on this particular night, we were asked the most outlandish question yet. A proud Punjabi father staying at our hotel, in town for his daughter's exams, asked without hesitation about relationships between men and women, “Is it true that in America sex is free?” To which Kevin replied, much to my embarrassment,
“No sir, actually it's very expensive.”

Jaisalmer





We drove six hours from Bikaner to Jaisalmer the next morning. Luck was on our side (thanks to those sacred rats), for we arrived in this desert city just in time to catch the annual Jaisalmer Desert Festival, and even luckier to find accommodations there, albeit cruddy and spartan. That night, we went with Charlie (our driver) to check out the festivities. We walked around the fair grounds, rode a rickety ferris wheel (probably not the smartest idea), and sampled camel's milk ice cream (I'll stick to Ben & Jerry's). We waited for several cold hours for the sun to go down and were rewarded with traditional Rajasthani dancing and lit views of the fort.

In the morning, we visited the still-inhabited Jaisalmer Fort and had a mediocre breakfast overlooking the main chowk (square), where grief-stricken but still-proud royal wives performed johar, choosing to plunge to their deaths instead of being captured by their enemies. We also entered the nearby Palace of the Maharawal. Our entrance fee, although eight times more than what an Indian pays, was well worth the price. It was beautiful, and the palace's five-story facade of balconies and windows gave us an unforgettable view of India's “Golden City,” given its name because of its sandstone architecture. We witnessed a real treat: birds flying in unison over the crumbling buildings below. From that vantage point, the trash and cow poop was not visible, although it became clear again once we walked back into town.

That afternoon, we had one of our best experiences yet: riding on a camel into the Thar Desert! We took a three-hour “camel safari” in the village of Khuri to the desert sand dunes . . . an awesome experience! My camel, Disco, was quite frisky, and Kevin's camel seemed to suffer from severe flatulence throughout the ride, but it was still so much fun! We arrived at the sand dunes and once dismounting from our hump-backed transportation, ran over the dunes and laughed at our luck . . . we were the only ones there! We watched the sun set, although by that time we were sharing the view with hundreds of other tourists on similar “camel safaris” and various touts and beggars.

That night, we stayed in a small hut in the village of Khuri. The family that owns the simple guest house provided food and entertainment, complete with men singing traditional Rajasthani music and a female dancer in a brightly colored sari. The day was perfect: cow poop, camel farts, beggars, and all.

Today is our six month travel anniversary. It seems like just days ago that Kevin and I were at Miami International Airport, said goodbye to loved ones, and sat on a plane with serious butterflies in our stomachs. It's been a sometimes crazy but always rewarding experience. Over the last few days, we have been battling with homesickness and are really missing our friends and family, as well as the simple comforts of home: the sound of Aphrodite's clickety paws, hot running water, Jeremy's smile, and fresh salads, just to name a few. Despite our longings (the list grows longer every day), we're committed to our journey and continue to feel blessed for being able to experience all of it, the good with the bad, every day.