A tribe called 29


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Asia » India » Rajasthan » Jodhpur
February 27th 2017
Published: March 3rd 2017
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‘The best laid plans of mice and men...’, so the saying goes.*

I usually plan my journeys in advance and in detail, with much careful thought. Doubtless, that’s something to do with what I once did for others when I worked in the holiday industry. This time, I’d pre-booked a train from Abu Road to Jodhpur, 1AC (First Air-Conditioned) class of course. Here in India that’s quite a bit short of equivalent to the old British Railways’ blood and custard coloured corridor carriages of my childhood. Those on Indian Railways are probably even older than that - and they’ve been used by millions more people before me without much in the way of maintenance and refurbishment, which leaves their condition to your imagination.

All this information’s a bit irrelevant anyway as I changed my mind at the last minute and cancelled my train ticket!

The Suryanagari Express, you see, was scheduled to leave from Abu Road at 01.30 in the early hours of Saturday morning, arriving 400 kms later in Jodhpur at 06.30. ‘Scheduled’ is the operative word as only the eternal optimist would expect it to run according to the timetable. The potential lack of a night’s sleep would take a big chunk out of the limited time I had in Jodhpur. What was I thinking when I planned this? I decided to hire a taxi on Friday afternoon instead, effectively adding an extra night and a full day to my stay in Jodhpur, a more expensive but more sensible option. I should have done that in the first place.

The taxi meandered its way through the suburbs of Jodhpur, into the crowded old town and through Sardar Market to Gulab Sagar. It drew up beside the steps to my hotel and I opened the taxi door to a deafening cacophony of three nearby restaurants and pop-up drinking and eating places competing to play a mixture of what sounded like religious wailing and Bollywood tunes - at maximum volume through huge loudspeakers, sub-woofers vibrating madly! I could barely hear my driver confirming the pre-arranged fare nor, once inside, the hotel proprietor welcoming me.

I’d overlooked the fact that today was Maha Shivrati, a festival for the powerful god Shiva, and that here, in Rajasthan’s second-largest city, this important holiday would be celebrated by people in vast numbers and with much gusto.

The hotel owner shouted his apologies for the noise, adding with a smile and a grimace that it should finish by about four o’clock in the morning.

The noise in my bedroom overlooking the lake and the aforementioned three places of celebration was, if anything, louder than it was at street level. Perhaps I should have stuck with that train booking after all. I wouldn’t have had much more sleep, but the rail's usual clicketty-clack, clacketty-click, clicketty-clack would have been preferable to this unbearable din.

I dropped my bags in the room and took a short walk around the neigbourhood and to unsuccessfully investigate if there might be a quieter place to stay. Alas, it was a big holiday weekend so even the peaceful but overpriced Pal Haveli just down the road was fully booked. Fortunately, I’m not a novice traveller, so the earplugs always present in my toilet bag permitted some sleep. Nonetheless, the procession that passed the hotel at 5.45a.m. was loud enough to wake the gods – and me too.

I’ve been to Jodhpur a couple of times before, most recently four years ago with my brother and sister-in-law, those Grey Haired Nomads ("I wanna tell you a story"). The vast Mehrangarh
VultureVultureVulture

This Griffon (?) Vulture spiralled higher and higher on the city's thermals
Fort, white marble Jaswant Thada, the humungous home-cum-hotel of Umaid Bhawan Palace and the Clock Tower with its chimes on the hour and quarters, together with the hubbub of Sardar Market are all familiar sights. My stay this time was at a modest guesthouse, the Jee Ri Haveli. It was convenient for my planned itinerary and had a superb view from its rooftop restaurant towards the important monuments, all of which were illuminated at night too. By day, large birds, kites and vultures in particular, spiralled high above on rising thermals, the kites nesting on neighbouring communication towers. At sunset, feral pigeons and flocks of cormorants came from out of nowhere to roost in nearby trees and, at night, subdued lighting picked out the black shapes of huge fruit bats lollopping in slow motion over the lake and just above the rooftops.

Of course, I couldn’t avoid a short walk into the lanes and market late next morning just to remind myself of this colourful and vibrant place. It hasn’t changed much over the years - a lot more people, a bit more commerce perhaps, but intrinsically the same. In the relative calm of my second evening, I was delighted to receive a short visit from my dear friend Devendra, who runs the Akhey Vilas at Mount Abu with her husband Shivendra, and who was here in her home town visiting her parents. We hadn't met since 2013 and, I hadn't previously seen her 18-month-old daughter Lavika. It was kind of her nephew to bring them and Prakash - one of the young members of staff from Mount Abu whom I'd met last year, in his jeep all the way across town. It had taken them an hour to negotiate the traffic and the busy streets.

Gulab Sagar, which I overlooked from the window and balcony of my hotel room, was new to me. It’s actually a man-made lake or, what’s called a ‘tank’, constructed in the late-1780s on the orders of Gulab Rai, a wife of the then maharajah. It’s fed by canal with waters from Bal Samand Lake many miles to the north of the city. The tank is divided in two by a footbridge. One half is clearly poorly maintained with green surface weed and lots of litter. The other is cleaner and inhabited by catfish that are ritually fed by local people. Concealed around the perimeter of this one are religious bathing places (ghats), littered at the time of my visit with remnants of marigold flowers and other offerings from the Shivrati festivities.

I was attracted to this area by its proximity to some of the blue-painted houses for which Jodhpur is famous. I have to say that they look better from above, from Mehrangarh's ramparts, as a conglomeration of buildings. Close up, they’re individually just houses, shops and temples painted in a distinctive blue among others that are painted white or not painted at all.

The main focus of my visit this year, however, was to visit the Bishnoi (pronounced 'Bish', as in 'fish', and 'Noy', as in 'toy') people, a tribe of farmers and shepherds which has grown prosperous over the years through their religious beliefs and hard work. Their villages are encountered in harsh terrain within a half hour drive of Jodhpur city. The men are easily recognised by their all-white clothes and turbans, differentiating them from other local men wearing red and multi-coloured turbans.Women traditionally wear colourful tops and dresses excluding the colour blue as that would have to be dyed using pigments obtained from cutting large quantities of shrubs.Married
In a Bishnoi villageIn a Bishnoi villageIn a Bishnoi village

A Bishnoi woman with her granddaughter
women wear expensive jewellry, including two silver ankle bracelets weighing a hefty 500g and 250g.

The Bishnoi follow a 500-year-old religion deeply rooted in environmental beliefs. Their name comes from their religion’s 29 tenets (Bish = 20, Noi = 9), which were laid down by a Guru Jambheshwar in the early 1500s. These tenets relate to human relationships and attitudes to the earth’s resources, moral behaviour, physical cleanliness, purity of the soul and religious practice. I don't remember all 29, but I know they include things like: think before you speak, bathe every morning, don’t eat meat, be sympathetic to plants and animals, and don’t cut trees... Jambheshwar also promised them survival and even prosperity if they worked hard and were patient. He told them to labour hard with their hands, to follow a path of truth, purity, non-violence and cleanliness, and to maintain nature’s balance by careful use of resources. There are some similarities between the Bishnoi and Vedic Hindu faiths, such as the celebratory worship of fire - but here there's an essential difference in that such Bishnoi fires normally involve no wood, just coconuts and clarified butter.

Today, the Bishnoi are a prosperous
In a Bishnoi villageIn a Bishnoi villageIn a Bishnoi village

Nanji, husband of the elderly woman shown in an earlier photo, and opium user
community of wealthy farmers, milk sellers and truck owners. They believe that animals have an equal right to the earth’s resources, so don't deny them their share. Indeed, cattle keeping forms the backbone of their economy and milk produced by them is supplied to many places throughout Rajasthan. The small to medium Khejarli tree (Prosopis cineraria), also known as the Khejri tree, plays a vital role in this. It not only helps preserve the ecosystem of this arid region, but it has medicinal value and its leaves are known to improve the milk yield of the Bishnoi’s cows. This tree, above all others, is highly valued and worshipped by them accordingly. One of the principal villages in the area, with specific sections devoted to Hindus, Muslims and Bishnoi, is also known by the name of this tree.

Because of the Bishnoi's attitude towards the environment, wildlife of the area continues to be unharmed by them and is welcomed to share the land around their homes. Consequently, while still wild and thus wary of sudden movement, animals such as Chinkara (Indian Gazelle), Nilgai (Blue Bull) and Blackbuck are frequently seen close to habitation throughout
Male BlackbuckMale BlackbuckMale Blackbuck

On the outskirts of a Bishnoi village
the surrounding countryside.

My day was spent in a jeep visiting some of the villages to see their lifestyle, their homes, having lunch with a family, taking tea with Thakur Puran Singh - the Rajput lord of Khejarli village, and watching (but not sharing) an old man's twice-daily intake of liquid opium. This man spent much of his time laughing!

The tribes live peacefully among other less wealthy communities, Hindu and Muslim principally. These latter are mainly potters making a variety of clay pots for cooking and water storage, and weavers who laboriously make cotton and wool rugs (durries) on small hand looms.If you ever plan a similar independent tour, contact Kuldeep Singh Ranawat who calls himself The Real Village Safari (Mobile: +91 09928826921); he speaks quite good English and is well-known to these local people.

This was an interesting and rewarding day – and yet another addition to the new things I’m experiencing on this journey of discovery.

The panoramas at the top of this blog are a slide show. Remember to scroll down for more photos and double-click on them to enlarge.

* Did you know that the well-known expression 'The best laid plans of mice and men...' is adapted from Robert Burns' poem ‘To a Mouse’? It tells of how, while ploughing a field, he upturned a mouse's nest and is an apology to that mouse. Here's an extract - to be read out loud in a broad Scottish accent:
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promised joy.


Additional photos below
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The concealed entrance to Jee Ri HaveliThe concealed entrance to Jee Ri Haveli
The concealed entrance to Jee Ri Haveli

The hotel entrance is up stairs hidden between two shops
Black KiteBlack Kite
Black Kite

One of two pairs nesting on communication towers near my hotel


4th March 2017

Music from the heaven and kindle of fire
Mike, the loud music reminds me of my days during "Diwali" in India. The cacophony of the sporadic fireworks mixed with loud music from heaven were the days when we used to close all windows and just survive our eardrums. When I was a kid, sometimes I used to join the bandwagon, but later no more. 'Fire' has been a part of Indian spiritual life for ever. In any auspicious occasion, fire has been a standard but very important ritual that is followed everywhere. To my surprise, I witnessed the same in Bali, where Hindu civilization thrives as well. Hindus consider 'Fire' is one of their Gods.
6th March 2017

There's music...
...and there's noise! This year, I may be on a journey of discovery, but I haven't yet discovered why, at any Indian festival, marriage or whatever, the music is set to burst eardrums. Oh dear, Holi is is on the horizon!
15th March 2017

Early trains and more
I don't like those really early trains and as you say in India they won't run on time. One of the thing I didn't like about our time in India was the loud music. (blarring) I always enjoy your blogs because you give a bit of history.
16th March 2017

The largest rail network in the world?
Thanks. Yes, trains in India are a mixed blessing - if you join them at their first point of departure, they leave on time, but they're invariably late arriving at their destination.There are so many trains but I think the freight trains have priority over the passenger ones! I always meet interesting people on them though.

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