a spiritual walk from my hotel roof

spiritual walk

bathers in Pushkar

I have spent four days in Pushkar observing the fair and religious pilgrimage. The official events that are scheduled, such as camel racing and turban tying, are less than riveting and seem poorly organized, but the entire spectacle--the thousands of animals and people in this tiny town--is really incredible. It seems at times to be a child labor and animal cruelty fair--one Brazilian woman characterized it as a 'horror circus'. When a little girl balances on a tightrope to the beat of a drum and then asks me for money afterward, of course I want to give, but I know that by giving money to her I am furthering this sort of activity where families profit from their child's exploitation. There are also lots of monkeys on leashes and children doing somersaults and horses dancing and snakes in containers and camels pulling huge flatbed chalets (I don't know what these things are called).

Despite how careful I am, every couple of days, something I eat affects my stomach in various and uncomfortable ways.

I will mention that photography of the bathers and ghats and lake is not allowed, but I couldn't resist a few clandestine shots.

bangle seller


dung discussions?

trying to get a drink from the tap

Pushkar from above

monkey at the temple on the hill

bulldozing the lake

dry lake in Pushkar

Camel dancing

Mela Grounds

Mela Grounds, Pushkar

my most beautiful breakfast presentation yet

camel fair, Pushkar

interior of my hotel in Puskar (I am staying in the basement/laundry room suite)

Pushkar

Pushkar from my hotel

notes:

Why are the pillows in India so hard and heavy? What are they made of? They are not quite the firmness of a rock, but not so far off either. I haven't found the right comparison; I was thinking maybe they felt like very firm french bread, or maybe the most dense roll you've ever bitten into.

Indians think I'm from everywhere but the United States. They are very insistent about asking. Most of them start with, "Como se llama?" because they think I'm Spanish. Or Polish or German or Swedish--they all think they know. But I always have to tell them.

I took another night train from Udaipur to Ajmer, arriving in Ajmer at 3:45 am. From there, I took a rickshaw to the bus station where I quickly boarded a bus (standing room only) at 4:30am for Pushkar. The bus was filled with pilgrims, all on their way to the camel fair. Half an hour later in Pushkar, I rode on top of a flatbed cart pushed by man who took me the few blocks down to my hotel. At 5am, I was ringing the doorbell and waking up the manager.

The fair is actually a very holy event that culminates on the full moon, and the camels are just a sideshow. The pilgrims come to bathe in Pushkar lake, but, ironically, the lake is entirely dried up this year because the monsoon was not sufficient. The hotel owner at Lake View Hotel neglected to mention this to me when I insisted on a room with a lake view when I called to reserve weeks ago. I happened to see an article in the paper a few days ago about the lack of water in the lake--it's just a catastrophe to tourism in Pushkar, and they have had to construct small pools on the edges for the pilgrims to bathe in. I am inclined to blame global warming for the dry lake, as well as wasteful practices by the residents of Pushkar (probably also due to tourism). If I'm in my hotel room, I hear the sounds of bulldozers all day in the lake; they are trying to dig it out, but I'm not sure what good that will do.

After a great breakfast, I got my bearings in the small town--more tourist shops, hippie clothing, silver and fake silver jewelry, bangles, bookstores (some good ones this time), paper stores, textiles, handicrafts, etc. I wandered to the fairgrounds, and found a sea of camels lounging in the dusty desert. Some very persistent beggar kids followed me around, and some women trying to henna my hand seemed to run into me again every ten minutes. Lots of requests for camel rides. I ran into someone I had trekked with in Nepal for a few days--it's crazy how these encounters keep happening in India and Nepal. We all seem to be headed in the same direction.

In the morning in Pushkar, I hear the booming loudspeakers by the ghats near the 'lake' playing music, chanting, etc. for hours. Who is this music for? The pilgrims? The locals? Certainly not for me. There are many loudspeakers in India.

At the festival, the jewelry salesmen are very aggressive in the stands, shaking their wares right in my face--I am so stony unfriendly and I don't respond at all that they usually leave me alone. But the older rich white folks get hassled ceaselessly, with men surrounding and encroaching on them, to the point where it got on my nerves and I told this Indian guy to get away, and he said angrily, "Who are you?!" And I said even more angrily, "Who am I? Who are YOU? Leave them alone!" Not really the best tactic, but India brings a person to their wit's end on a daily basis, and sometimes it is hard to keep my patience.

I hiked up to a nearby temple on a hill, and the man I asked for directions to the temple looked at me incredulously, and said, "it is a VERY big hill." And I was thinking, are you kidding me? That tiny mound behind your town? And you don't think I can walk up it with everyone else? Indian women really need to rise up and show these men their strength. I pulled out the biggest card I had, and told the guy I'd just hiked to Everest Base Camp, so I thought I could manage Pushkar's little hill. A half hour later at the top, pilgrims who aren't used to seeing foreigners stood around and stared at me--I left fairly quickly.

I'm reading A Passage to India by E.M. Forster right now, and there is an interesting quote:

"The triumphant machine of civilization may suddenly hitch and be immobilized into a car of stone, and at such moments the destiny of the English seems to resemble their predecessors, who also entered the country with intent to refashion it, but were in the end worked into its pattern and covered with its dust."

(the book is set during the British occupation of India)

My last day in Udaipur I shared a cab with three other people out to Kumbalgarh Fort and Ranakpur, about 90 kilometers from Udaipur into the countryside. It was an incredibly beautiful drive through scrubby, dry rolling hills, and then seemingly in the middle of nowhere were these beautiful temple complexes. The Jain temple at Ranakpur was one of the most detailed and exquisite temples I have ever seen.


Ranakpur


Ranakpur


Jain temple detail


detail


detail Jain temple


Ranakpur Jain temple


Ranakpur Jain Temple


Kumbalgarh fort


Kumbalgarh fort

Kumbalgarh fort


view from Kumbalgarh


Kumbalgarh fort


Udaipur at dusk


Lake Palace Hotel, Udaipur






Udaipur


Lake Palace at night


dusk in Udaipur


bathers in Udaipur at dusk


City Palace


my hotel in Udaipur (from the water)

Udaipur is my favorite Indian city so far. I have a hotel that overlooks lake Pichola, and there is a beautiful white palace on the water that looks different and glorious in every light. I have spent many long hours staring out across the lake.



City Palace, Udaipur


Udaipur


City Palace museum exhibit (very strange)


City Palace


crush of Indian humanity in the City Palace--wall to wall pushy people


City Palace interior, Udaipur


City Palace interior, Udaipur


Udaipur




Lake Palace Hotel, Udaipur


people waiting at train station


Raj Mandir cinema


Raj Mandir Cinema interior lobby







My last day in Jaipur I spent wandering around the old town, visiting the museum at Albert Hall, and then going to see a bollywood movie at the famous Raj Mandir cinema. I saw "Lady in Blue," which was sort of like "Too Fast Too Furious" meets some treasure hunting movie. It was terrible, really, but tons of fun anyway, even though it was entirely in Hindi. I was shocked at how sexualized the women in the movie were; it was in stark contrast to the way women dress in India in general. It was aggregiously sexual/racy even by Hollywood standards. All the female characters were wearing tiny dresses, and there were lots of underwater bikini butt shots.

I took a night train to Udaipur.

Notes:

Upon request, I have posed for dozens of photos with Indian families. I do not pose for groups of men.

On my next trip to Asia, I will bring W-D 40 as my gift to this continent, for every lock and door and gate.

Women in India dress in the tradional saree, which is sort of timeless. The men dress like they just stepped out of a John Travolta movie, complete with the swagger and highwaisted bellbottoms.