cutest dog on the planet from a guest house in Pushkar!
view from the fort in Jodhpur, the blue city... Back in the day Brahmins (upper class people) were the only ones who could paint their houses blue, but now the rules have changed, and everyone can, so there are lots of blue homes...
Jaisalmer fort, made completely of sandstone! View from the Little Tibet restaurant where I spent the day talking to the owner and staring out at the world...
Sunset view over Jaisalmer (and the Thar desert) from Johan and Santosh's home..
People stare through the smoke as we all watched a restaurant catch on fire and burn for awhile...
Seriously... This is the smelliest city I've seen in India, but for all the cowshit, there is just as much tinsel sparkling and shimmering in the hot hot hot sun. So me being the moth to the flame type, I'm loving Jaisalmer a whole bunch, though I think I'm ready to take a small break from Rajasthan for now. I'll upload photos soon because this city is literally built out of sandstone and each building is intricate and almost lacy in its design. Everything is golden, browned, rusty, and yellow with random bursts of color from lines of bright laundry, flags, and restaurant signs. Most of the tourist attraction surrounds the fort, a giant structure that houses havelis, temples, restaurants, and hotels. In recent years the government has started asking tourists not to stay in the fort because it is slowly being destroyed by the impact of the tourist industry- however, there are many small businesses that are literally choking inside the fort because Lonely Planet has asked tourists to make the 'ethical choice'. It leads me to ask, what is ethical? Preservation of historical monuments, or preservation of life and self-sustaining business? I know very little of government efforts to help out the business owners inside the fort, so I can't say too much on the issue, but I did try to balance my ethics and stay outside the fort but eat in restaurants inside the fort.
My plan in Jaisalmer was to sleep, do guidebook tourist-y things, go on the internet, and have no adventures, because to be perfectly frank, I'm utterly exhausted. However, sleeping and looking at sites makes for boring blog entries and e-mails back home (and is not nearly as satisfying), so of course I didn't stick to my initial plan (if this trip to India has been a lesson in anything, it's been a lesson in flexibility). My first evening I planned to read a book Shruti lent me that I have been neglecting called "Red Earth and Pouring Rain". However, just as I was about to sit down to dinner by myself, an Israeli man asked me if I wanted to join him. Of course I could have easily declined politely, but to be honest, I was really looking to talk to and connect with other travelers. I wrote about this earlier, and it's been something that Jake and I noticed earlier in the trip, but travelers in India are not the most friendly; many have an almost arrogance about them, and an unwillingness to connect to other travelers they pass by. While I wouldn't give up any of my experiences, friendships, or connections made with Indian people, a part of me was really looking to talk to another person who was an outsider to this culture, like me. I absolutely love finding Americans because it's just so easy- and while meeting different people and learning new things is an incredible thing, sometimes I just want to be able to spend time with people who are coming from the same place as me. So to make a short decision long-winded, I joined him and we ended up talking for a few hours about traveling in and out of India, which was really rejuvinating for me. He has been traveling for the past 7 months with his wife (who was sick in bed at the time), and they spent most of their time in Central Asia, in Uzbekistan and Kirkistan (spelling is horribly mangled, I know). He told me that the tourist industry in those countries is virtually non-existent, so travelers seek each other out all the time, give tips, support, and advice. In contrast, he observed that India has such a legitimate tourist scene that sees so many travellers come through, that travellers don't feel the need to seek out others like themselves because it's a) not too difficult (relative to Central Asia where he travelled at least) & b) there are so many people like them on tourist circuit that there's no need to reach out to more similar people. Perhaps if Jake and I had stayed strictly on the tourist track we would be feeling the same way. But from our times in Badami where no one spoke English, to my own experiences being on my own here in Rajasthan, I feel that desire to meet other travellers... It was really good for me to hear this man talk about his own difficulty finding other travellers to connect with, and I'm so glad that I decided to sit with him.
The next evening I visited the home of Johan and Santosh, a musician and jewelry seller that I met at the entrance to the fort. Santosh approached me and asked if I wanted to buy anything, and I kept saying no politely, but we got to talking, and she invited me to listen to her husband play music. Her husband plays a stringed instrument whose name is escaping me right now, but to me, it's the most beautiful instrument in the world. I sat and listened to him play, and then I bought a cd and Santosh wrapped a silver bracelet around my wrist, as a present, amidst my protests that I should pay. They invited me to their home for sunset, dinner, and music the next evening, and while I had sworn to strictly guide-book and no adventures, there was no way I could say no to the invitation. I met them at their place at the fort and we took a rickshaw to the outskirts of the city and then up a hill toward a settlement of makeshift houses and tents that are literally carved into the sandstone. The view is so high up that the people who live here have the most glorious view of the city, the fort, the desert beyond, and the red red setting sun. Johan and Santosh introduced me to their 12 year old daughter Nosur, and we sat and talked while Nosur prepared chapati over the fire. A short while later Johan and I went to watch the sunset, and I was greeted by a few kids who wanted me to take their photos, give them school pens (a popular request here in India), chocolate, or rupees. I gave some rupees, took some photos, and walked around on the rocks with them as the sun set. There were lots of foreigners up there, and as I sat surrounded by my little entourage of Indian kids and men, I couldn't help feel that sadness that I wouldn't go over and talk to any of them. However, just a few minutes later, one guy spotted my Vassar shirt and in his undeniable west coast American accent called out "hey Vassar!" and we chatted for a while about his future move to Murray Hill in Manhattan from LA, and just small talk about traveling. He was amazed that I had been couchsurfing in India, and I assured him that beyond couchsurfing there were always families who wanted to take you in to their homes, like the family that had taken me up to this very spot. With that, I excused myself and went back to Johan and Santosh's house and ate a positively delicious dinner of chapati with tons of ghee, and fresh vegetables cooked into a mouth-watering subjee. I was so touched by their kindness to share with me.... After dinner Johan and Santosh sang and played music in the candlelight, while I clapped along out of rhythm. Johan told me that only artists and musicians live in this area, so through the night you can hear drums, singing voices, and all kinds of instruments- sad music, happy music, religious music, music for the peacock, music for love, it's all there. At around 10, I thought it would be best if I went off to sleep, so Johan walked me down the hill, to the city below and we said goodbye. It was without question, one of the happiest nights I've spent in India.
I could talk about how amazing it was that these people who literally have nothing (I asked them if they had a mosquito net to keep out the bugs that keep them up all night and they said that business is not so good right now), shared so much with me, and share meals and their home with many tourists who come through Jaisalmer. But it's like a broken record to say that Indian people who have so little are so hospitable and kind to those who have so much- it happens everywhere and all the time, and the one thing I can do is be a thankful and honored guest. Learning to be a good guest in India, from the richest of the rich to the poorest of the poor, has been a difficult and important lesson for me during these travels, but it is one that I hope I will carry home with me, alongside the lessons of kindness, generosity, and hospitality that have been so beautifully bestowed upon me.
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