Rajasthan


Advertisement
India's flag
Asia » India » Rajasthan
December 24th 2006
Published: December 24th 2006
Edit Blog Post

Total Distance: 0 miles / 0 kmMouse: 0,0

Rajasthan

By bus and train and bicycle and camel!


Rajasthan Rajasthan! The heart of the tourist track here in India. Forts and palaces and birding and desert treks by camel. Maybe even a tiger sighting. Incredible colors and sounds. I was joining a group of tourists from Canada, the UK and Australia for my Rajasthan adventure - an adventure that would also include four days bicycling through the Indian countryside!

We start in Delhi, India's capitol, with a visit to the massive mosque, Jama Masjid. Despite being an overwhelmingly Hindu country, India has a vibrant and strong Moslem community. In fact, Moslem powers first began growing in India around 900 AD and controlled India from about 1200 AD until the days of British control. In addition to the Hindu majority and the Moslem community, Jainism, Sikhism and Buddhism all thrive here - and were founded here (along with Hinduism). And there is a strong Christian community - particularly left from the Portuguese and English days of power here.

After the Jama Masjid, we moved on to the Red Fort, a massive fortament, built between 1629-31 at the height of Moghul power in India. It fell quickly though, first in 1707 then again in 1739, as Persia briefly took control of India. Then, as the British came to power, they took charge of the fort beginning in 1857.

We move on. Through Old Delhi. A city founded around 1700 as the Moghuls moved their Indian capitol from Agra (location of the Taj Mahal) to Delhi. Today, their city is in incredible disarray. Three million people live here. In less than one and a half square miles. By typical US standards, that means an area about 10 city blocks by 10 city blocks. With three million people living in it!

Our next stop takes us to the beautiful garden area, Rajghat, where Mahatma Gandhi's body was cremated following his assassination in 1948 by extremists within his own religion, Hinduism, due to his defense of the Moslem minority. I purchase a beautiful bouquet of flowers and take them to the central memorial. On either side of the eternal flame are beautiful floral creations of the famed spinning wheel from India's flag. For years Gandhi, in his silent yet powerful way had defied British power here, sitting at his spinning wheel, weaving his own cloth and making his own clothes instead of buying the British cloth that the British rulers said all had to purchase. At outrageous prices. Perhaps his spinning wheel and defiance of the British rulers can be compared to our own Boston Tea Party as the Boston colonialists refused to pay the outrageous British tax on tea coming to what were then the British colonies. Only somehow Gandhi seemed to do it a bit more peacefully! I offer my flowers at the memorial. As well as prayers and thanksgiving for the incredible man Gandhi was. It is amazing to realize the changes he brought not just to his world in India, but the tradition of non violent protest that he established and that swept the world. To a large degree they were the model for many in our own civil rights movement in the US.

An overnight train ride from Delhi to Bikaner, on the edge of the Thar Desert, starts the adventure. Followed by 5 hours of four wheeling to get to the tiny hamlet of Dasodi to start our three days on camel, through the desert, past tiny villages, camping under the crystal clear stars that can only show themselves so startling under a desert sky. Riding a camel always has an exciting beginning and ending. The roller coaster ride of the camel getting up after you've climbed on his back while he kneels before you, is every bit as exciting as any roller coaster I've ever been on. And when its time to stop and he kneels down so you can climb off its even more intense! But in between those exciting moments, the gentle and continual and steady flow of life in a camel caravan is perfect for the pace of life in the desert. We gently meander around the highest dunes, float from village to village, accompanied by the sounds of traditional music on the harmonium (piano keyboard with accordion like squeezebox) and the dol or dolet (double headed drum, ancestral to the two tabla drums so famous in Indian traditions). Our two traveling musicians accompany us throughout the trip, sitting on the back of the 'support vehicle', an old camel cart. Our favorite song has to be what we dub the 'Scorpion Song' due to the places we all join in with a loud rolled 'R' sound. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Everywhere we go, we find villages. In the middle of nowhere. So far off the beaten path. The children of each village join in our caravan, chatting up a storm. We try to learn a word or two of the local language. But often, 'ta-ta' is the only recognizable word for us in their conversations. And here its come to mean not just 'ta-ta'. Good by. But also hello. We come over one rise in the desert and there is an entire school, 20 or so kids, seated in the sand in neat little rows, outside their school building, reciting their 'ABC's'. We listen. We join in. We promise to send school supplies to them - with our guide next time he is through with next set of tourists.

But there is one returning theme of all my Indian travels thus far. Even here in the desert. This desert that I had hoped to find pristine and desolate but instead find used and full. This is a sub continent that has been occupied, used, for so very many years. Everywhere you go, there are signs of a long history of culture after culture existing here, using the land, using up the land. India is an incredible contrast. A land, tired and used up, after so many millennia. Yet it is reinventing itself by the minute in the model of Western commercialism. And they hope, Western prosperity. Yet I see so many incredible treasures of this culture being thrown off and discarded in pursuit of more - money, success, pleasure.

The village of Jamba finds us ending our three days on camel back. And you remember that gentle, rocking camel trek pace. Well, lets just say I'm sore in places I never new I could get sore!

Jaisalmer, the Red City, so named for its red sandstone construction, is our next stop. The ancient fort sits high atop a bluff, walled and well fortified. Below lies the 'tank', the artificial reservoir that stores monsoon season water and supplies the town's drinking water for the other 9 months of the year. Within the fort, some incredible old Jain temples. The Jains tended to be merchants, businessmen. And the tended to be fairly well off. The temple reflects that in its beautiful alters and intricately carved stone work. And, well, you know, a lot of the beautiful stone carving is, well, rather erotic in its nature. At least by Western standards. I just promise that I've never seen anything like these carvings in any church I've been in in the US. But, its explained to us that the Jain religion takes the business of sex education seriously and believes it is an important part of its mission as a religious order. OK!

Our guide for the day, Kamel, and I settle down for a nice lunch time conversation. People here tend to be very curious. And they do not have the same lines as Western culture does about what is an appropriate and what is an inappropriate question. So he starts with an apology, letting me know that it is fine if I refuse this opportunity for conversation. And then he asks 'who will take care of you when you get old?' You see in Indian culture there is not a lot of thought to a Social Security type of retirement. Your family takes care of you as you age, just as you took care of them when you were younger. Yet our earlier conversation had let him know that I was not married, had no children and therefore had no wife or children who would take care of me as I aged. His is a good question. One to which I do not really know the answer. I mean as we age many of us think of living on our own as long as possible. And we consider different retirement village settings when that time passes. And we give thought to insurance to cover a nursing home so we don't burden our families too much. But is that really what I would want? Compared to a family all around? Indian culture is very family centered. Right on down to 'arranged marriages' (your Mom and Dad set up your wedding, you've no real say in the arrangement) and the 'Matrimonial Classifieds' in every Sunday newspaper (where people are advertising to find a wife or husband - not just a blind date, blind marriage). Yet 99% of Indian weddings last a lifetime. What's the US nowadays, about 50% divorce rate?

Jodhpur is our next stop for another incredible fort, constructed in 1459 and perched above this, the Blue City. It's named such for all the beautiful blue washed walls of the houses. Blue is the color of the ruling class Brahmin caste. Here we are told of an aged and outlawed practice, sate. We stand staring at the hand prints of the wives of the Maharaja Man Singh on the fort wall inside the 6th gate. This is the last impression these women left in this world before throwing themselves, live, on there dead husband's funeral pyre. Sate was declared illegal by the British rulers in 1829. These wives committed sate in 1843.

Then on to the Pink City, Jaipur. Pink (well, actually terra cotta) is the symbol of welcome in this culture! First stop, once again, a fort! The Amber Fort. Among other things, this time we marvel at the ancient air conditioning system. The huge shades hung over the massive windows are made of sweet grass and have an ingenious system that delivers a trickle of water over them so the act as giant swamp coolers.

OK, finally, its time to bike! As we leave Jaipur, we jump on our beautiful local, low tech one speed beater bikes. Kids come running across the fields of mustard, fresh in beautiful yellow flowers, calling 'ta-ta'. We stop as we see villagers weaving in front of their homes. Gentle nods of the head are exchanged with the older residents. Or looks of absolute bewilderment that a rich tourist would be on a bicycle. The thought of bicycling for pleasure or health is relatively new here. A bike is transportation. It you have a bike you're a step above the walkers. But way below the motorcyclists and drivers. A bike is transportation, work, nothing more!

We picnic along the way. Always drawing a crowd. And occasionally a conversation. Occasionally, cultures clash. A puppy is out in the road. A bus is approaching. One of our troupe jumps off her bike, rushes in front of the bus to save the puppy. The bus swerves. The puppy's sibling and mother rush out into the road at all the commotion. No one gets hit. But what a huge near disaster. When in actuality, the puppy knows there is a bus coming and would have moved and the bus driver knew that and wouldn't had swerved to miss the human being who wasn't acting like he was used to human beings acting and the mama and other puppy wouldn't have run out and almost gotten killed because they didn't understand that this lady wasn't trying to kidnap the puppy she had grabbed. Sometimes it seems we think ours is the right way. Or perhaps even the only way. And we expect the rest of the world to understand that and want that for themselves. When in reality we don't always know what's best for someone else in the context of their culture!

Whoops - I think got on my soapbox a bit there!

As we approach Sariska National Park, traffic picks up. And the level of interest in us as we bicycle through the local peoples lives plummets. We're reaching a heavily touristed area and all the problems that go with such. Someone in a 4 wheel drive taxi zooming by, shoves Yang Jore, our guide. He crashes and takes same very nasty cuts and road rash. He's been such an incredible, caring and sharing guide. And even now speaks of how glad he is that he took that shove - otherwise it may have been one of us tourists who was shoved. No! No one should have been shoved. No one should treat someone else like that. Ever! I'm reminded of my own father's incident so many years ago when some kids tossed a rock at him out of their car window as they sped by him as he ran down a back road in Kentucky. The memories and the sense of our own vulnerability are so troubling. But I'm at least reminded that such stupid actions occur everywhere. Even back home in the US.

We take our safari in the park. Spotting jackal and spotted deer and Nilgai (antelope) and wild boar and mol (peacock) and Sambar deer and crocodiles. But we're preoccupied with Yang Jore, resting back at our camp while we take this tour.

Next stop, Keoladeo National Park and Bird Reserve. We gently bicycle under the canopy of the huge trees. Slowly soaking in the sights and sounds all around. An iridescent Kingfisher sitting on a branch catching the morning light. An owlet nestled in the crook of a tree, almost invisible, watching us watch him!

Then on to Agra. And what is meant to be the crowning glory of the trip. No, not the ancient abandoned capitol at Fatepur Sikri. And no, not the incredible Agra Fort where the builder of the Taj Mahal was imprisoned by his son, a usurper to the thrown. No, I mean the Taj Mahal!

We awaken early, agreed on the early morning plan, to see the Taj Mahal as the glorious sunlight first touches the monumental edifice. We enter the ground in the dark and are stunned by the glorious building, resting solidly at the end of the serious of pools and flowers and fountains. The light begins warming the scene. Mists swirl about, adding a sense of mystery. And in the long run the mystery and the mists rule supreme that morning. The Taj Mahal is bathed in the gentle and diffuse light of a misty morning. And I treasure that vision and that emotion. Although I also gasp when at last the sun breaks through those mists and gives a moment of reflected glory on that incredible marble building.

Everyone I've talked to says that of all the incredible places they may have traveled in the world, the Taj Mahal is the one that will never let you down. You always worry about whether or not an adventure will live up to its hype. Well, no matter how much hype someone offers about the Taj Mahal, it does live up to its! And how. Such a tribute to love, such an incredibly beautiful building, such an incredible contrast in this fast paced and dirty and used sub continent!


Additional photos below
Photos: 26, Displayed: 26


Advertisement



5th May 2007

:)
As always, your pictures are wonderful!
7th May 2007

your blog
Love it Mike! What a great way to keep us caught up. Would love to see a picture of YOU at some of these places though. :-)
12th May 2007

school
I loved reading about the kids all lined up in rows, learning the alphabet. I liked how you used the text and writing to tell your story, each complimenting the other. Thanks!

Tot: 0.187s; Tpl: 0.02s; cc: 9; qc: 58; dbt: 0.0729s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1; ; mem: 1.2mb