Jodhpur - girl

A question I keep asking myself: why does everyone abroad (me included) seem to feel as if the ultimate quest is to find ‘that picture’? Does it matter? Are we losing something by always trying to find a new and interesting pose, someone doing something, or looking, ‘foreign’, a new level of poverty or beauty to snap? I see so many of us on this quest that I wonder how we now look to those we’re visiting. I wonder what we’d see if we put down the camera and actually took in what’s in front of us. Today, driving from Jodhpur to Udaipur, I kept wanting to stick my camera out the window and take photos of everything new - do I want memories, do I want photos that demonstrate how much poverty I’ve seen or do I just want to claim everything for myself? A bit of all of them? Maybe. I’m definitely not proud of this and would like to change this about my habit of travelling before the end of the trip. I had to really push myself to put it down and just look, just take in the outstanding colours and scenes before me.

Today’s journey took us from Jodhpur to Udaipur through tribal areas of Rajasthan. The poverty we hadn’t been seeing in droves came and bit us on the ass. We could have been visiting the middle-ages and nothing would have looked different (except, of course, for the motorised vehicles). Cow powered water wheels (again with the cows), women with their veils teaching children to carry water pots on their heads, people working the dusty, dry land. Villages here looked similar to many African villages: hustle around the road, the same shops, the same resting men while the women go about their work, barefoot children calling in excitement at seeing white faces in a car, teenagers herding goats and an overriding vision of colour. It’s trite but true; the colours of Rajasthan are what make this place so interesting. While the land is a drab, dry reddish colour, the women wear the most beautiful saris, bringing everything to life.

I again have to question the place of cows in society - if they’re so holy why’s it ok to own them, tether them and work them? Isn’t it a small step to simply take a bite out of a tasty looking one? C and I wondered if this ever happens - imagine your neighbour commenting, ‘didn’t you have three cows yesterday?’ and you having to wipe steak juice off your chin before mumbling a big fat lying ‘no’.   

We visited three incredible sites in the last two days - a fort in Jodhpur, Ranakpur and another fortress out in the middle of the ass end of nowhere. The first fort was impressive for its sheer size and the way it dominates an enormous, sprawling misery of a city. Ranakpur is a Jain temple that crawls with tourists and understandably so, to be honest, as the place is beautiful. However, for me, the second fortress - Kumbalgarh - was the most wonderful. The views were simply marvellous from every point in the place - over hills and fields we could see for miles. And the monkeys made it even more fun.

Two interesting things occurred on our journey between the two cities: 1. our taxi driver stopped beside a motorbike and some roadside stalls and told us that a shrine has developed around this miraculous bike - five years ago there was a crash there and now, every month, at full moon, the bike’s engine starts up. Dunno, maybe it cries real tears too. We couldn’t tell if the driver believed this or not.

2. As we were approaching Kumbalgarh, we came across a group of women who had created a roadblock. I had visions of angry Maoists in Nepal and I suspect our city driver did too. He muttered something about ‘angry tribal women’ and turned the car round. C and I then had a pleasant ten minutes conjecturing what they could be mad about, and rationalising it for them, before someone else told us that the women were simply extracting a small fee from every driver to contribute to their holi celebrations, which seem to be later here than other places. I did decide here that it was totally legitimate to take pictures of the women since they had forced us to stop and hand over cash. Seems like a good exchange to me.

We seem to be having some interesting ‘people’ experiences at the moment too: Yogi, owner of Yogi’s guest house: total nut job. Claims to know Barack Obama and the ‘big Daddy of the BBC’. He also claims that some American dude is giving him $200,000 a year rent for the hostel building. Even smile at the man and you’re stuck for at least an hour as his mind wonders and his mouth keeps up. A lovely guy but a little tiring. Our taxi driver today immediately told us that all Indians put on an act - and then swapped from being bubbly and nice to being a bit of a sulky bastard! He played tinny Bollywood tunes at full volume almost the entire 10 hours we were in the car with him. I almost thought it had been a test and that we’d get a prize for not asking him to turn it down until 9 ½ hours into the journey! Damn it, I was wrong. No prize.

And now, we’re staying in a new hotel, on first impression I dislike the owner. He watched C and me struggle to bring luggage in and eventually picked up my hat and camera to help! Everyone else, without fail, has helped out of kindness. This guy is weird. He sat and watched us finish our meal in his hotel and claimed I was the first person to ever mention that fact that the bathrooms don’t have ceilings (as in they’re a section of the bedroom with walls but no ceiling) - I don’t believe him given how many people get bad tummies here. No matter how much one loves one’s partner, a ceiling might be nice! And yes, bad tummies have come to us. C first, but only extremely mildly and now me. Bah. Although it does mean I might lose weight - maybe I’ll wait a few more days before bringing out the antibiotic guns. (On further thought I think that perhaps neither he nor I were in good moods when we met, he’s a bit odd but certainly not unpleasant). 

Also, I’ve just noticed that my sweat smells of curry!