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Published: March 6th 2008
Monkey temple today. We jump in a tuk tuk and head there. Our driver neatly dodges a sadhu who is prostrated in meditation in the middle of the main road. Dropped at the gate, we buy peanuts for 10r and I resist the temptation to eat the lot there and then, and save some for the monkeys.
The path to the temple lies over a small mountain which we cross up a zig-zag, cobbled path. A small child runs up and is heartbreakingly friendly, and shows us a fresh wound on his forehead. Maya is concerned and takes a closer look.... meanwhile I notice the child's mother approaching, waving a hospital card and saying 'baksheesh, baksheesh'. Hmm. Call me suspicious, but she doesn't seem overly concerned about his head wound, and it is extremely fresh. I have a horrible idea that it was caused by the mother in order to solicit more cash. We hand over a few rupees and carry on, somewhat disturbed.
At the peak of the first hill is a small hut, outside which two sadhus are deep in meditation. The monkey temple is visible ahead, at the bottom of a deep gully on the far
side. Monkeys are around us now, playful and not in the least aggressive or threatening. In contrast, four Indian lads of 18-19 years old have surrounded us and seem to be enjoying making us feel uncomfortable. I ask if anyone speaks English... the answer, alongside stares and private laughter, is 'no'. With our personal space bubbles well and truly burst, we walk away, and we're shaken. They follow for some distance and, when we stop, crowd us again, not saying a word but just staring at us. I feel deeply uncomfortable and so we get out fast. At the top of the hill once again, we turn round to find the young men have melted away. We give it five minutes and carry on. They don't bother us again.
When we reach the temple there are monkeys all over the place, tugging on the saris of Hindu women to get more nuts! They're extremely good fun to watch and seem to enjoy teasing tourists out of anything edible they possess. Stepping down into a courtyard area, there's a murky, stagnant pool in which an enormous catfish, easily five feet long, rests on a submerged step. Yet further down the
gully, snake charmers and beggars abound, and young men leap and dive into pools of water, much to the delight of the women around. It is quite an amazing sight, but at the same time we're acutely aware that we are the only Westerners around. The feeling of unease grows stronger and we head back up the hill, and are crowded again, this time by 7-8 young boys of maybe 10 years old. They scream at us, shake hands violently, tugging our arms and push us against the wall. Maya storms off, but I try to keep the polite facade up. I feel something stir in my pocket, put my hand in and pull it out with a grimy little wrist firmly in my grip. 'NO!' I shout at them, but this just makes them try harder. Defeated, I call to Maya to help - she storms back down and screams at them. This has the desired effect as they fall away like small ghosts into the scenery. We get back to the tuk tuk and head off to the hotel for some r&r. Maya chills with orange juice, I have a beer and teach the Indian builders working on
Sleepy gecko on the wall...
... we christened him 'Dinglebert' and threw a little splash of beer on him to celebrate. He didn't even flinch. A cool customer.the hotel how to roll cigarettes. They're enormously pleased with their new talent and aren't impressed that Rizlas are almost unobtainable in Jaipur. The gecko is back. This time he does three laps of an oil painting on the wall before falling asleep. I know how he feels.
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Lix
non-member comment
can't think of a title damnit!!
PICTURES!!! I want pictures! You know that experience with the kids was probably a good thing - keeps you on your guard!!