The Golden City: Sandcastle in the Desert

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The desert state of Rajasthan might just be the most touristy in all of India, famous for its gem scams and pesky touts, but this comes as no surprise since it contains some of the most breathtaking sights in the subcontinent. Chief among them is the 857-year-old sandstone fort in Jaisalmer, in the isolated far western corner of the state only 40 kilometers from the India-Pakistan border. In this blog, however, I’d like to stray away from history and focus on my real, on-the-ground experience of the “Golden City” and its magical fort.







The most shocking aspect of my stay in Jaisalmer, besides the mere sight of the living fort and the splendor of the ancient havelis and other crumbling structures within it, was the oppressive heat. July in Rajasthan is Asia’s version of the Death Valley. Arriving after dark, my sister Leanne, her partner Matt and I checked into an overflow building of a hotel strongly recommended by our guidebook, only to find it overpriced and the room uncomfortably small. After waking up, getting organized, and checking into a friendlier and more comfortable hotel for less than half the price, complete with private balconies overlooking the street below (my favorite), we quickly realized we’d already used up the only part of the day that wasn’t overbearingly hot. Even the shaded rooftop where we ate breakfast was too hot for comfort. After straying no more than a few blocks from our hotel, we quickly realized that humans are simply not meant to wander freely under sunlight this fierce. The only thing that could be done from 11am-4pm was nap under a fan in the hotel room.







Except when the power goes out. Which happens A LOT in India. I know the feeling all too well. You’ve dozed off to the monotonous, tractor-like sound of an ancient, decrepit air conditioning unit when the noise suddenly comes to a stop, and within a matter of only a few seconds, your entire body begins to sweat all at once. At that point just about the only thing that can be done is to take a shower from the dribbling tap on the wall, with water that is perhaps only a few degrees less hot than the air temperature in the room but is enough to provide a small degree of comfort, and to guzzle bottles of cold water that your hotel sells from a small fridge behind the check-in counter, provided you purchase it before the power has been out for too long and it is still actually cold. These power blackouts can be the result of planned energy shutdown times, but more often than not they are the result of malfunctions, or entire states using more energy than their allotted amount and blocking up the entire power grid.







In fact, the largest power blackout in recorded history occurred in India while we were in Rajasthan. Over 620 million people, or 9% of the world’s population, were without power for 2-3 days. What was even more unbelievable, from our point of view, was that we hadn’t even noticed. Power outs become such a regular part of your daily routine in India that you learn to expect and cope with them as the locals do. At least you try to. The most annoying thing is the first time you lose an entire e-mail you’ve spend an hour typing out on a barely functioning computer with keys that stick or are missing. In each new city you visit, you soon start to take note of which Internet cafes have generators and fans to get your through the blackout times when it is too hot to go outside or stay in your room. We only heard about the enormous blackout, which affected 22 states across the nation, in the news after it was over.







After napping that day, we went up to the fort. With approximately 3000 people actually living inside the Jaisalmer fort, there are several hotel options inside of it, but with garbage, water shortages, and in particular sewage disposal issues causing severe damage to the fort, backpackers are encouraged to find accommodation on the Old City streets below, most of which offer incredible views of the fort without contributing to any damage to it.







A single, sloping entrance ramp leads up to fort. The ramp is a favorite hangout for a pack of ultra aggressive and traditionally adorned female Rajasthani jewelry sellers. I recognized two of them from my first visit to Jaisalmer a few years earlier. How could I forget her face, after she had posed for what I thought was one of my best portraits ever taken, with her charcoal blackened eyes, string of gems suspended from her nose to ear, and hand which shielded her face from the sun by tugging at a sparkling, rainbow-colored head scarf. Never mind that she was annoying as hell and probably posed for a hundred like photos a day, 365 days a year. My original photos from that trip had all been lost; stolen along with my computer, camera and hard drives from my Taipei City apartment after I’d returned home from that trip. The small version of the photo can be seen at the top of my travel blog from 2009:
The Psychedelic Rajasthan Experience





I wanted to reshoot that photo, and there she was, ready to pose. Her sales strategy was as annoying and effective as before; posing for photos happily and then guilting passersby into buying her cheap, junky jewelry, or following people up the ramp and irritating them so persistently that they finally threw some bills at her just to get rid of her. With Leanne with me this time, I asked her to fake an interest in the jewelry so that I could concentrate on getting the right photo, and of course in the end I would pay for whatever she ended up actually buying.







The photo shoot didn’t work as well as I’d hoped for, though. The light wasn’t right, the woman’s smile was unnatural, and she just didn’t look quite as stunning as she had the first time. Unsatisfied as I scrolled through my photos later that evening, I asked Leanne if we could try it again the next day, and she reluctantly agreed. I got a slightly better picture of her the next day, and another of the woman’s desert-worn daughter’s face that I was even more satisfied with. In my eyes, the original photo of the woman that I had taken in 2009 represented all of Rajasthan in a single colorful yet deceiving smile. My new image of the daughter, with her hazelnut eyes that look right into you from the photo, foreshadows resilience and determination.







That night, we pondered and then decided to give Jaisalmer’s legal bhang (marijuana) shop a miss. I’d read horror stories about people tripping out on bhang, ending up in hospitals and getting handed exorbitant medical bills. What’s more, my memory of nearly getting scammed out of all my money in Jaisalmer the first time I’d visited was still fresh in my mind. Despite the legality of the drug in this special government-approved shop, we didn’t care to bother. However, that very same night I ended up, somewhat accidentally, getting completely wasted on pharmaceuticals.







Most backpackers in India know that a variety of strong drugs that require prescriptions in most countries can easily be purchased over the counter in India for next to nothing. Having a pre-dinner drink alone in my room just before meeting up with Leanne and Matt, I went through my medicine kit to find some cough syrup for the dry throat I had, which (I can’t lie and pretend I wasn’t aware of) had a high concentration of the opiate codeine. Already buzzed from my drink, I took a hearty swig of the syrup and locked my room to go rouse Leanne and Matt.







Twenty minutes later we were sitting in a touristy outdoor restaurant, barefoot, with our feet in the sand. We were the only patrons, and an entourage of well-dressed waiters brought us cold Kingfishers on trays and turned giant fans in our direction as we nibbled on complimentary spiced papadums and perused the menu. Our food arrived as quickly as we had ordered it. I still felt completely normal. I took the first bite of my dish. The flavor of the masala coated my tongue, throat, and then seemed to seep right into my brain. I had gone from zero to high in the blink of an eye. Perhaps it was just the timing, but it felt as if the spices in the food had somehow brought on the high. Calm and collected (in appearance), I leaned back in my chair, took a deep breath, and then said, “Leanne. I don’t mean to alarm you, but I am high as a kite.” Leanne and Matt were, however, alarmed. “Holy shit. Holy shit. I’m OK. Don’t worry. Holy shit. I could not stand up right now if I tried. Don’t make me stand up.”







I eased into it, but suffice to say that we didn’t stay in the restaurant for very long. The power was out on our walk back and we could not see a thing as we tried to navigate our way back to our hotel through a network of black alleyways. Occasionally we would come upon a few cows, goats, or pot bellied pigs, which we could identify based on sounds only. I’m not sure who was more terrified on that walk: myself in that special state, or Leanne, who fears most large, domesticated mammals. Lesson learned: just because something is legal in India, does not mean you should do it without exercising extreme caution and of course, moderation.







On our final day in Jaisalmer, we went for one last wander inside the incredible fort. There is something special and unique about an ancient living building, where modern human beings nap, wash their clothing, and brush their teeth in an open-air museum. The views from any of the 99 bastions over the “Golden City” and desert beyond invoke fairy tale scenes. The touts, on the other hand, who try to eek out a living selling junk that few tourists even want, add another dimension to the experience. Getting lost in the tiny side streets that branch out from the main strip is the best part, stumbling upon women applying mendhi to each other’s hands, children playing, and horned bulls snoozing under the shadows provided by intricately carved sandstone Jain temples.







The first time I visited Jaisalmer, I had purchased an amazing hand carved silver ring that shows a dozen or so Indian gods in stunning detail from a shop that was located at the end of the Fort Palace tour. Matt wanted to buy a similar one, but instead of entering the palace, we found the ring maker’s actual shop, located in a small house connected to the outer wall of the fort and looking out over the city. The maker himself was in, and Matt was able to spend an hour chatting with him and carefully choosing his favorite one, without any of the pressures or lies that come hand-in-hand with buying anything from most street side vendors in India.







Some backpackers in India really don’t like Rajasthan or try to avoid it because it is too touristy and full of hassel. It’s not exactly the kind of place where one can “fit in with the locals” or chill out without being bothered by anyone or anything. In my opinion, it still oozes with every quality that makes India India. Its sandy, spicy breath breathes right in your face, and it offers a different experience to every visitor every time. It can be scorching and aggressive, but it will always draw visitors, with its medieval fort where colorfully adorned smiles fight for your attention, and perhaps your pocket money, too. Go elsewhere to relax, but come here for photos worth a million dollars and a unique experience that will never be forgotten.





For more of my photos and travel stories, or to buy my book "Taiwan in the Eyes of a Foreigner", visit www.nickkembel.com

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Photos

Jaisalmer Fort
Built in 1156, the fort is still home to 3000 people

Jewelry vendor on ramp to the fort
I'd photographed this woman in 2009 but my photos were stolen. Now I got a second chance.

Comments

[The Travel Camel]

Gorgeous photos
Love the portrait you took of the daughter - stunning! Sometimes it takes a second shoot to get things just right and I recall doing the same with the Mursi tribe in Ethiopia. Practice makes perfect as they say. I really liked Jaisalmer too, the old fort area was wonderful and apart form touts and being butted by a cow, it was a very relaxing time.