POST # 1 DELHI AIRPORT, TRAIN STATION AND JAISALMER, RAGASTHAN

THE FIRST ELEVEN DAYS—DELHI AIRPORT, DELHI TRAIN STATION and JAISALMER, RAGASTHAN

Some say one goes to India to find one self and yet others say they go to loose themselves. But aren’t both of these true?

One interesting thing that I noticed on my lay over at the Kuwait airport was that there were prayer rooms, one for the men and one for the ladies.

It was a long lay over of more than 11 hours. Everything was super expensive. A coffee nearly took my entire daily budget for food.

On the plane from Dubai to India I sat next to a woman who was Indian, living in States. She was very helpful to me as I was able to get a taxi with her to old Delhi train station. I was so thankful for that simple intervention.

Once we were in the auto rickshaw my experience of India began. I was amazed at what my eyes were seeing and what my ears were hearing. I was a child in wonderland from that moment on. As the ‘tout tout’ (what auto rickshaws are called) was crossing a street it had to stop in the cramped traffic. A cow with slobbering mouth stuck his head in the window and looked me right in the face. With a bit of a start, I broke out laughing.

The traffic is beyond anything one has seen on TV or in the movies. A 3-lane street becomes 6 lanes. The two dividing lines on the street mean absolutely nothing. And the amount of traffic is surreal. Not only cars, motor bikes, trucks, and ‘tout touts’ there were bicycles, rickshaws, horses, oxen drawn carts and of course cows and more cows.

All of this was an overwhelming sight for a westerner but added to that was an experience of sound to my ears equal to what my eyes were going through. The sound was hundreds of horns blowing!! Every vehicle that had a horn, and everyone did, was blowing constantly. There was never a second that all of these horns were not blowing. I was so amazed at this as I watched the driver of our tout tout blow his horn about every 10 seconds. It was an unending concert of horns. This was happening with every vehicle as they raced around each other, making another lane at the spur of the moment that was not there just a second ago. Another thing is when the traffic is stopped the vehicles are so close to one another that I could literally put my hand on the lap of the man in the tout tout next to me. The distance between vehicles could not be more that 1/8 inch. How this commotion could go on without them banging into each other was amazing. Another thing is that no one stopped for anyone. You can just accept that as a rule. The only exception to that rule would be to stop for a cow. It does not take me long to realize that the best way to walk across and Indian street would be to grab hold of a cow and walk across. The only danger there would be if you got hold of an irritable cow. This is my first experience of being on the road in India. Many road adventures were waiting for me.

Once we are at the train station, the girl I was with, bargained with one of the boys that handles luggage. It was a heated debate with the girl finally winning giving the guy 200 rupees to manage all of her bags while telling me how these men just rip you off and that she shouldn’t have agreed to 200 rupees. I was filled with compassion for the guy who carried her bags. This frail man walked a long way, up and down stairs, through thick crowds of people, carrying the 2 huge suitcases stacked on top of his head. You could see how stressed his body was and the expression of anguish on his face wondering if he would reach his destination.

At my dismay the time came for the girl to go her own way. There I was, a speck of anxiety in a huge crowd of people.

I would wait by the tracks for my train for 4 hours. It was very stressful, as I could not figure out how to tell what train was which. I could not understand anything about this new reality that I was standing in.

I waited by the tracks for 4 hours, taking in the scene of my new environment. There was a 'cagillion' amount of people, standing, walking, sitting on benches, sitting and lying down on the cement platform. Vendors selling snacks and drink. I was among the very few westerners. Sometimes I would look around and I was the only one. I thought there would be a lot more tourists than what was. I walked around the platform, trying to make heads or tails of where my particular train would be coming in. I tried to ask at the information hut but it was all vague and unclear, partly due to the amount of English spoken and the other part to the speed of speech and accent. I was realizing much to my dismay that not only did I not know where I was suppose to stand for my train, I had no way of finding out. Anxiety began to get the best of me….and it was growing fast. I finally threw my pack down on the platform and sat on top of it. Watching trains come and go and trying to figure out on my own, their number and any other marks that I could compare with other trains passing through. I of course, did not realize at the time what more would be involved in actually getting on the train. This would prove to be a nightmare for me the rest of the time I was in India. I would experience this about 8 times. Each time presented its new set of problems of which at the present I was completely unaware of.

So what did I do? The only thing that I could do. I prayed. I was very frightened and lost and the worst thing was, I was all alone. And not just alone in the sense that I did not have a companion but alone in the sense that I was unable to communicate to be able to get any information. Millions of people and no one to seek help from. Everyone told me back home, that many Indians spoke English and not to worry about communication. Well that was wrong. I found no one with whom I could converse. I tried approaching business men in western attire, but not even these could be of assistance. Prayer is all that I had. My prayer was pretty simple and to the point…. Here I am…. I cannot do anything to help myself…No one to seek help from…you are the only one that can help me… I place myself in your hands…knowing that at the right time you will take care of everything…

After sitting on my pack for some time, I got up, put on my pack and wandered around. At one point something hit the back of my leg and nearly knocked me down. I stumbled as my leg had been hurt. A large wooden cart pushed by a man had run me into. This was a lesson, like staying out of the way of traffic. No one is going to stop for you. You must stay aware of moving objects if you do not want to be hit.

Once you have figured out when your train comes then you must know where to stand to get on your appropriate car. You do not just board the train anywhere.

The thing about knowing where to stand when your train comes in is very important. The trains are very long so if you do knot know where to board your designated car then your only option is to run the length of the train, both ways, to find the car. This would take too much time and you run the risk of missing the train. Besides, trying to run with my pack was much too difficult; physically I was just not able to.

I do not remember now just how I knew when my train came. It looked like I was in the right spot so I stepped up onto the train but just as did I heard a western girl say to someone, “Over here, this is sleeper number 2.” I immediately got down and ran over to where she was boarding. What a relief! I was on the train and on the right car. Finding my compartment was pretty easy. I put my bag under my bunk and settled in. The ride would be about 22 hours. I was safe and could relax. Along the journey the train stops at different stations and I realized that I was very fortunate that my stop was at the end of the line, because I could not understand what they were saying when the train would stop. There would be a sign at some stops that had the name of the town written on it, but not all signs had English. Some of them were written in only Hindi. I foresaw future problems, and though it frightened me, it was not happening now and I was truly grateful. By grace I knew I had been helped by the girl who had called out, “Over here, this is sleeper two.” Maharaji had indeed come to my rescue at just the right time. It felt awesome.

I put my bag under my bunk and settled in for the long ride. I could take a deep breath and know that my journey was on its way.

Towards the end of the trip a man started a conversation with me, in English!!!! His name was Abhishek and he was, I guess in his late 20’s. He spoke English as I said but he spoke so fast and with a thick accent that it was difficult to understand him. He was getting off at the same stop as I was. How wonderful. I would not have to worry about when to get off the train.

Abhishek told me stories of Sri Baba of Shirdi and how he had never actually been a devotee of any one, but that now after the experience he had there was no doubt in his mind. He told me that I should definitely go to Sai Baba’s temple. I would have loved to go, but it was another 2 days away and all my transportation and rooms had already been set up. I was also told about Amritsar, Punjab and the Sikh religious temple, the Golden temple. Not even a day in India and I already have 2 places that I must come back to see.

JAISALMER, RAGASTHAN THE GOLDEN CITY

Arriving in Jaisalmer, I was picked up by charming Chance the owner of the Desert Moon hotel. Chance speaks English As we rode along in his tout tout he asked me how many cows I had at home. I replied, ‘none.’ How many camels do you have? ‘None’. How many goats do you have? ‘None.’ We both break out laughing and I feel happy to have made a connection with someone where I would be staying. His wife Lois is from New Zealand and traveled a lot of India on her own before settling in Jaisalmer with Chance. Being from New Zealand, Lois also speaks English. Such a simple thing but I now had questions which I would be able to communicate and get answers.

The ride to the hotel was fun and I enjoyed seeing all of the cows and camels everywhere on the road. The open-air tout touts are fun to ride in.

Arriving at the hotel I am happy to settle in. It has been about 60 hours since I left Arizona. I have not slept yet. Adding to that the stress and the all-new environment of hustling and bustling I relinquish myself to being tired. ( The picture at the top is taken from the veranda at my hotel, I forget what they call it but it is where Brahmans have been buried.)

The Desert Moon hotel is a wonderful place. Everything about it was great. The people were all friendly and helpful. The hotel is probably one of the cleanest places in all of India. The young boys are always cleaning, sweeping the floors a few times a day and washing them by hand with wet towels. You could literally eat off the floors. They have a small restaurant on the rooftop. This would be the only place I would eat while I am here in Jaisalmer.

I do not remember if I slept first or ventured into town first. Even though I was tired I was running on nervous energy, plus I was excited to explore my first town. However, my excitement falls rapidly as I walk to town to find a very small square of dirt and shabby cows, pigs and dogs. I needed to email home so I found an internet place, emailed home and paid 100 rupees for it. As I walk out of the tiny space with a few computers onto the street, I am completely dismayed that it took me almost 22 hours from Delhi to get here and I am ready to leave. There is nothing here, just dirt a few little buildings and the animals. I have reservation for 10 days!!! My train ticket is set and paid in advance and it is close to impossible to change it. I had wanted some time to relax after my journey and figured that it would be good to just chill and take in the sights, Ha!! Besides I had spoken to Lois on the Internet and of course she was English-speaking, being from New Zealand, and could help me with a lot of questions that I had. She was more than willing to talk with me. Back to the story, after walking back onto the street a young Indian man begins talking to me in English. Again my spirits lift. His name is RaneKhan (sp) and he works in the little upstairs store, which sells souvenirs etc. He takes me upstairs and shows me the Rajasthan bed covers, clothes etc. Everything is folded and he begins unfolding many things to show me. Being so happy as having met a friendly person I purchase some bed covers to send home to family. I also got a pair of cotton loose pants, which I still have. He walks me to the post office and we mail them out. The guy at the post office looked at my name and start calling me Linda swami-ji. We are all laughing and my tiredness is evaporating. RaneKhan also helps me out by exchanging money for me into rupees. I wait at the store and he goes out to the moneychangers for me. I am grateful for his help. Things are easier and my stress level has gone down.

Ranekhan plays a little musical instrument and is with a musical group. He asked me if I would like to go to the resturant to hear him play music, I feel it would be a great opportunity to get a local feel, and so I agree to go. I went back to my hotel to shower and walk back into town that evening. We walk to a hotel restaurant which I am surprised is so far from the little center where he worked. We had to walk up a hill to get there and I was getting very exhausted. Then we had to climb stairs to get to the restaurant. It felt that I was not going to make it. I did not want to say anything because I did not want to look like a whimp but he noticed how I was lagging behind and so stopped and slowed down. When we got up to the restaurant he found out the group had to go out go town unexpectedly and so would not be playing. I was disappointed. We sat and shared a beer on the rooftop and talked. He told me he had been married and had a child of which he supported. He was no longer with his wife however. He had dreams of going other places but was bound to stay in Jaisalmer because of the custom. He had a child and was not able to leave Jaisalmer or he would be put in jail. The desert people have their own rules and they are very different from what westerners know. I was amazed at the stories he told me…but that was his culture and so that was his life. It was very cold and I was unprepared. I was lucky I had worn a lightweight blazer from the states. I knew it would be a little chilly about my first week but did not realize it would be cold.

He has great ideas of what I could do while there but I can’t as I am on a very limited budget. After we leave the hotel we walk to a building with little rooms and he goes in one of the rooms and gets a key to a motorbike and gives me a ride back to my hotel. That was super nice because I was not looking forward to the walk from “town’ back to the hotel at midnight in the cold.

The next day I crashed in my room. An powerful emotion has awakened within me. I am terribly homesick for my children. I am taken back to when I was a child and how homesick I would feel if I had to be away from home. I am shocked at how strong this feeling is and I am on the verge of a real breakdown but I can not allow that because I know if I do I will keep falling down that dismal hole. Tears run down my face when I am alone as well as in public, but I do not cry. I am too afraid to. It would be quite some time before this depilating emotion would leave me. In fact because of this I would not write home anymore for over a month for fear that someone would say to just come home. I could not do that so I did not want to put myself in a position to have to hear those words.

I ate at the hotel and ordered coffee in the morning. Found they had a nice veranda to sit on cushions or rattan chairs. It was just what I needed. So I sat in the sun and read. I just lay back the whole day.

Another day as I am waling around the little square Ranehkan sees me and says, “come on lets go”. We walk out of the square, following a little narrow street. There are actually a couple of streets that lead further out. I thought this little square was all there was. I was quite mistaken. He takes me on a walk into the old city. We enter a narrow lane and there before me stood the huge Haveli. The Haveli are old 1805 architectures, which are very ornate. The entire structure is all intricately carved. They are also known as the ‘mansion of brocade merchants’. It is quite spectacular on its own but resting here in this narrow lane it is magnificent. Please see my blog of India pictures to see the Haveli. ( Picturesofindia-essence.blogspot.com)

I take a picture with a man is native costume with a very long mustache of perhaps twenty something inches. I was able to joke with him with Ranekhan interpreting and eventually y he began laughing.

My main reason for coming here was to go on a camel safari in the desert. The day came for it but that morning I fell down some stairs and out went my back. Damn… but I did save my coffee in the fall By the time it came for the safari departure by jeep from the hotel I had decided that I was not going to have to come all this way and stay here and not go on the safari. So in the jeep I went, along with a couple from London, Ken and Mel. Mel was very nice and helpful in telling me how to deal with the ‘toot toots’. She’s a lawyer in London and her partner Ken, although quite at first turned out to be a barrel of laughs. Great sense of humor. They tell me of they spent 10 weeks in Africa and that they went on a camel safari there. I quickly realize that my imagination has definitely taken me on a much more interesting trip then the one I am embarking on now. The London couple tells me that they spent 10 weeks in Africa and that by comparison this safari was nothing. . So I was prepared now not to expect so much. My blazer is all I have but I did put on socks with my sandals.

When the jeep stopped we got out and walked into the sand and met our guides. Turbaned headed men in their traditional desert clothes. Then we got to meet our camels. I was so excited. I have always wanted to ride a camel and…..kiss a camel. Ya I know it’s weird. The sun is shinning yet it is pretty cold with the wind blowing. My camel’s name is Ra Ju Ju. We get on our camels with the camel sitting in the sand. We are then told how to lean as the camel gets up on its legs. It’s a novel experience to be seated on a camel while it is getting up. My eyes were about as wide as they could get! It was fun though. Ra JuJu is pure delight, his long legs carrying us both across the Rajasthan desert plains. Shrub pokes through the sand here and there. The sun is bright and a cool wind is blowing. His bells that he wears around his neck ring out in a tinkling little song and I am enjoying every second. My back…well I have found if I sit real straight and hold tight with my knees it is not too bad.

We encounter a small gypsy village of which the constructs of shelter seem barely worthy of standing, put together with old plastic bags and other trash items. Each of these is scattered about and no more than 4 feet high. Children run up to wee the strange white people on camels passing by. They look with inquisitive eyes yet there is a far away quality behind the look. A young girl of no more than 7 carries a small toddler in her arms and next to her another young girl follows. All the children are covered with the tan color of sand all over their clothes and skin. One girl is dressed in a maroon-red dress and a veil, old with the signature of the Rajasthan dessert. I wonder where they get water. It has to be rare for them since their clothes are so sand covered that they must use it mostly for drinking and cooking. Their tiny little torn cardboard and ripped plastic bags and other trash odds and ends certainly have no room for cooking or toilet.

The ride to our camping destination takes only about one and a half hours. Definitely more of a Disney land ride. We reach our campsite and disembark our camels. And yes, I got to kiss a camel. After seeing how huge his teeth were close up and personal I decided to kiss him on the side of his neck instead of on the lips! Since it is so cold I ask if I could sleep with my camel and everyone laughs.

A fire is made and a meal prepared. We sit around the fire after we eat and talk. The sun has gone down and a real chill sets in. I am really glad for the fire. We all are. We laugh and I enjoy all the stories my companions have to tell. Though the night is cold the stars in the darken sky make up for it…that is until the fire goes out.

Our sleeping arrangements are a cot with a very thick, heavy blanket or more like a very thick pad. I have not seen anything like this before.

. The London couple sleeps about 100 feet away from me. I am all alone in my spot. I am a bit spooked but not for long as the cold quickly takes my mind off of other things. . I sleep in my blazer. I craw all the way under the heavy pad and curl up as an animal would to protect itself from the cold. I will get no sleep. The sound of the wind is whipping past the heavy pad. Actually I was warm enough except for my feet which ached from the cold. Every once in awhile I peep out to see if any light is visible. It’s a long night. It was with reluctance that I emerged from my protective cocoon with the first light of day. In the distance from some village could be heard the Muslems call to prayer”Allehua akbar” reverently traveling through the winds of the desert.

We are prepared a breakfast then get in a jeep and are taken back to the hotel. I was disappointed that we did not get to ride the camels back.

Upon return to my room a hot shower was most welcome. After I was refreshed I walked into the old city, being careful to mark my path through the tiny winding streets. I had decided I had been cold enough and world purchase a shawl. I stop in front of one of the little stores to examine some of the scarves. The shop owner asks what I am looking for and I tell him a warm shawl. He tells me has them and invites me in. He leads me to the back of the store where many shawls and other cloth items are neatly packaged in clear plastic wrap. He offers me a seat, gets me a hot cup of Chai tea and proceeds to unwrap and remove one shawl after the other. Soon there are swirls of colors all over the floor. The shop owners think nothing of unwrapping dozens of items even though you have not even chosen to see many that he has unwrapped. They are very intent to show you as many as they can. And they hand them to you quicker than you can look. ‘What you like?’ ‘What you like?’ and then taking your rejects tossing them on the floor. I hold two in my hands, which I am considering amidst the multitude of swirling colors laying all about my feet, still causing my eyes to hold their attention. I choose the lightweight one that is suppose to be warmer and leave behind the other in my hand that is soft and smooth.

Noticing my tattoos he leads me over to a corner of the shop to show me pictures which are upon an alter he has erected in a little corner. The ashes from numerous incense sticks testify to his worship. I fold my palms in Namaste and offer reference to at his shrine. He then shows me a picture of his father hanging on the wall. The turban covered head and angular features contrast with the softness of his slightly lowered eyes which hold some story, some thought of a deepness being brought from his heart, perhaps being reflected upon by his mind. The shopkeeper agrees, yet confesses he has no idea what his father’s thought may have been.

I meander back through the tiny twisting streets to the little square where Chance, the hotel sees me and invites me to walk with him. So I change my direction and go with him instead of back to the hotel. We go to an open air little sweet shop and we go behind the counter to a couple of little stools on which one he offers to me to sit. I realize he is friends with the sweet shop owner and that is why we get to go in and have a seat. Chance orders us cheese ball type dumpling sting in a pool of cardamom milk. It was absolutely delicious. The other one I tried was a yellow ball made from what I understood as a ground bean of some type and filled with a sugar syrup which when bitten into was all juicy, however the taste was flavorless and just very sweet. He asked me if I would like to try any more but I declined out of politeness. Besides the last sweet was so intense that I had to cringe.

Back at the hotel Lois, Chance’s wife invites me to ginger Chai on the veranda and we talk about her recent problems in dealing with the bank of India. A simple operation which was suppose to take only a few days had had ended up taking her three months. We talk about my trip and she in keen on me changing my plans and leaving a day early to go to Jodhpur to see the fort in the Blue City. I had seen pictures of the Blue City and would definitely like to see it but I was uncomfortable with the idea as my train reservations were made and I would have to find a different way to my next destination. I am way to unfamiliar with this new land to try and figure things out in a different way. Plus it would end up costing more money and how much more I did not know. So I decided to stick with my plans and just add the Blue City to my places yet to see.

Lois is helpful in letting me know not to accept offers from shop owners that stand outside and invite you for chai tea. It is just to get you inside to buy their wears. I had pretty much figured this out on my own but it is always nice to hear things from people who know.

I have eaten all my meals here at the hotel. It has been safe food so I have decided to stick with it. The little eating-place is on the roof in the open air. Usually I go up and order what I want and the children bring in down to my room. On one occasion as I am telling the cook what I want he tries to kiss my check but when I rebuke him he acts as if it is just a friendly thing. I tell him that I do not appreciate such things. He replies,’ don’t you like it and I tell him, ‘if it is my husband I do!’ From then on I did not talk to him other than order my food. He really is quite harmless but these things always give me the creeps. For a few days he acted very quite and hurt. I just ignored it and soon he was over it.

I meet Richard, an Austrian; he travels a lot and use to be in charge of the bears of a circus. Interesting stories were always forth coming on the veranda, which brought laughs from all. He lives in Alaska now and takes photographers into the wild to photograph bears. He has just come in from Cambodia and spent some time there as he had fallen ill. One couple told us they had went to a restaurant the night before and were up all night throwing up. They said they adhered strictly to the Lonely Planet, a most popular travel bible for travelers in India. We all kind of laughed since Lonely Planet recommended it. Just goes to show you sometimes it is ok just to trust yourself. Besides, Lonely Planet is a huge heavy book and I was so surprised to see how many travelers carried that book. If I would have had that book in my pack there would have been room for nothing else. You cannot travel light if you intend to carry that book.

Another fellow, never could get his name right from a northern European country, Norway I believe was very interesting as well. He works on ships off shore and has just come up from Pune. He told us there was a bombing in Pune.

My last afternoon before leaving I meet Ricka, a young woman from China. We have dinner together at the fort and take pictures. We had fun talking. She was on her way to her next stop in India. She travels a few times a year.

I stroll around the fort and marvel at the dress

On my way back to the hotel I marvel at the dress of the Rajasthan women. The bright colored, the jewelry. It is so beautiful and exotic. There are many of these women around the fort selling their wares. They lay blankets on the ground with their jewelry or whatever displayed on it. I talk to a few of these women and most are hard sellers. At one point a group surrounds me in a circle and becomes impossible to get away. They are each trying to sell me the same thing. I try and tell them I am not interested but it does not change the energy level at all. One lady is more quite than the rest and offers the same thing for about 10 percent the price of what the others are asking. I step toward here and try to explain that I do not want to buy but I give her 50 rupees for offering a more correct price. The other ladies see this and are stunned. That was something they had not experience before. The circle is broken and I leave freely.

I return to the hotel, pack and prepare for an early departure in the morning. The next morning Lois and Chance tell me to stay in touch and that they enjoyed having me. They said if I needed any help with information during my travels to email and they would help me out. Chance takes me back to the train station that I had come from 10 days ago.

I am looking forward to my next destination Vrindavan with a stop over in Agra where the Taj Mahal is.