Jaisalmer: The Thar Desert

9/06/09 to 9/09/09

Karma Improving
So, as I said before, the train ride to Jaisalmer was less than perfect. Aside from departing four hours late, my sleeper berth was no more than a slightly padded bench hanging 3 feet below two others above me. Jam-packed liked sardines leaves little room for proper ventilation when expelling bodily gases, however this doesn't seem to be as much of a concern for my fellow (native) travellers. You can only imagine how my woolen blanket smelt. [Excerpt: while I'm telling the truth here, it's really not that bad...I"m writing with a smile on my face, so you can be assured that these are just very minor inconveniences/common nuances that go with being a "backpacker"]. My immediate impression of Jaisalmer was initially no different than that of Jaipur of Delhi...if not worse. I walked out of the train station and was literally mobbed by 20+ screaming Indians. They had even begun pulling at my wrists in an effort to force me into their rickshaws at the hopes of garnering commission from whichever hotel they would drop me off at. They meant no harm of course, just trying to make a buck. I jumped in a jeep with two Spaniards who had witnessed the scuffle and had promptly opened the door to allow for my quick escape. The driver of the jeep was kind enough to drop me off at my hotel of choice (at no cost) despite having to take the Spaniards to his own guesthouse. I never saw the man again; I hope he understood the sincerity in my "Thank you very much". This would be the first of many genuinely kind and helpful Indians (or Rajasthanis as they're called - a la "Texans") I would meet in Jaisalmer (and now Jodhpur). After checking into my overpriced guesthouse (500 Rps= $10), I decided to rent a motorcycle to tour the city. Jaisalmer is located some 60 miles from the Pakistani-Indian border, in the middle of the Thar desert. The city, populated by some 60,000 inhabitants, is built around it's central fort: yet another structure built during Muhgal rule. Despite the seemingly large population, the city itself has a small, rural-village-type-feel, most evident by the friendly people. I received very few touts or sales pitches, and the ones I did encounter were quickly avoided with a "no thanks" and a replied "no problem, sir". This was a hassle-free place. I stopped near the fort to watch a pick-up game of Cricket played amongst the local school boys, none of whom asked for anything more from me than to sit and watch the exhibition. The setting surreal as was as a "home-run" (I am devoid of Cricket terminology) was designated by hitting the ball off the wall of the imposing fort above as the sun was setting behind.

After returning my motorcycle, I sat with the owner of the rental shop, a Muslim named Ali, discussing pick-up lines to attract the Spanish-speaking tourists he encountered.

The Desert Safari

As was the Amber Fort in Jaipur, the main draw here is taking a "camel safari" into the Great Thar Desert. Not wanting to miss out on the experience, but hesitant to participate in such a touristic act, I decided to book the "non-touristic" 2 day safari (I would later find out that this meant no real "sightseeing" or immersion into Indian culture...meerly a glorified camping trip in the desert, but pretty cool nonetheless). We left promptly at 8 in the morning, and after rounding up our last minute supplies, our jeep sped (literally) off into the sandy abyss. Initially, there were 8 of us on the safari: 2 guides, a couple from Belgium, 3 Argentine girls and a lonely American (me). After about a 20 minute drive, we abruptly stopped near a heard of camels saddled up for another day's work. It was obviously very hot (this is the desert), so after stopping for lunch - chai and some chapati - we all took naps in the shade of a tree until late in the afternoon when the wind picked up and temperatures began to drop. Along the way, we stopped in a small farming village to take a break from the rump-romping. Here, my hat and glasses were quickly confiscated for a photo-op, and subsequent charge of 1 rupee per kid. Of course, the kids were not so willing to give up their new prized possessions, especially as I had no money to give them for the photo, and it took some chasing and growling on my part before they finally

relinquished my things. As the sun began to set, we made our way to the campsite; an open patch of sand dunes overlooking what we were told was the Pakistani-Indian border (seen in the sunset picture as the hills in the background). As night feel across the dunes, and the final embers of the fire made to cook our dinner had faded, a silence engulfed the air. It was deafening...almost as if my ears were so expectant to hear the car horns, music, and come-ons from vendors that I had grown accustomed to in the cities, that they were buzzing from withdrawal at the lack of stimuli. Had it not been for the light of the full moon, I might have seen trillions of stars instead of the billions blazing across the sky. Ok, I'm sounding like a non-fiction writer now, but you get the point...very calm and centering. We were all huddled up on mats at the peak of one of the dunes, with our guides some 100 yards away, sleeping with the camels. At some point early in the night, I woke up to a dung beetle crawling under my thigh. Not that this was frightening...I had seen them everywhere on the way and they're no more harmless than the June bugs back home. Waking up did however mean that I had to go to the "restroom", so I walked over a dune to secure some privacy in the event that one of my safari-mates was to wake up. As I descended the dune, a black beast camp galloping down behind me, and though I heard only the sounds of what I imagined to be clawed paws digging into the sand, I began hurdling fist-fulls of sand in all directions to fend off my attacker. As the beast brushed passed me and made its way to the top of the opposing dune, its silhouette revealed it to be nothing more than one of the stray dogs that had followed us from the village. I felt bad, as my bullets of sand had apparently been affective, as the poor mut was now whimpering in defeat. Adrenaline still pulsing through my bloodstream, I peaked over the dune to find 3 of my companions surveying the area to find out what had caused the commotion. I was embarrassed to immediately return to my mat as I was sure they had decided that the missing American was the cause of the curious outbreak of flying sand and whimpering animals just over the next dune. Plus, the reality of the situation had me almost in tears of laughter at my paranoid reaction. After some time, I returned with no other disturbances. The next morning, the couple from Belgium departed early as they needed to catch an afternoon bus. The Argentines and I were left with more camel tromping, until after lunch we requested to be taken back to Jaisalmer. Our guides obliged, and we were quickly wisked back to civilation and a rewarding shower.

New Friends

During the safari, I had slowly become friends with the Argentines; my previous experiences having played a major role by providing common ground with which to start conversations. Not having a hotel to stay in (I had already checked out of the "expensive" place), they suggested I try their hotel where my eventual room would cost only 150 rps. At around 3 dollars, this is the same price as a liter of beer. I later had dinner with the Argentines ( names Lorena, Juliana, and of course, Sol) where we decided to meet up the next day in Jodhpur...our next stop. As it would turn out, I would spend much more time with the Argentines; staying at the same hotel in Jodhpur, touring the city together, and eventually continuing on to Udaipur with one of them. More on this later.

The workers at my new hotel were all very friendly as well. Particularly charming was the son of the manager. He taught me to play a common Indian board game called "Keram" (seen played by the cook and a local man in the picture). It seems to be a cross between pool and checkers...if that makes any sense. Anyway, by employing some obviously illegal tactics, he was able to beat me several times. The toll for his victories, he explained, was 50 rps (just over a dollar). If I couldn't come up with the money, he said, then my 80 dollar Nike watch would suffice. I explained to young Ismael (pictured with me atop the hotel roof, overlooking Jaisalmer) that it was against my religion to gamble, and besides, we hadn't agreed on any terms before the game.

Jaisalmer was a much appreciated about-face from what I had experienced in my previous (albeit abbreviated) travels thus far. It would also be an introduction to a more simple, genuine, and beautiful India that I would continue to find in Rajasthan.