06/13/14 - 6/14/14: Jaisalmer, Rajasthan, India
We anticipated a hot, dusty, crowded and uncomfortable train ride to Jaisalmer. It actually turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant ride. Sure, it wasn't air conditioned, but with every window open we were able to stay decently cool because of the constant air flow. It was also far from packed, allowing us to spread out and move around. The trip went by quickly because we kept ourselves entertained with movie games, card games, and Aura did a few magic tricks for us.
My favorite thing to do was a solitary, sensory experience. The train was not the least bit secure, with its doors wide open as we raced down the tracks. I’d stand in front of the open doorway and stare out at the desert as it flew by, watching my own private travel film; pure cinematic adventure. It was the first time I loved being in India, thinking about my little point on the planet as it drew a line across the land.
We arrived in Jaisalmer and were immediately whisked away in tuk-tuks to a nice hotel with working A/C! That afternoon we walked down the road to the man-made Gadsisar Lake. In the 12th century Jaisalmer was a trading post linking Asia to Persia. Taxes were pressed upon the traders who came through town and, eventually, the community leaders became so wealthy they declared themselves royalty. As per Hindu custom, the ashes of the royals were spread in the lake water, but small temples and shrines were also erected in everlasting memory of the royal family.
Aura told us about the Jaisalmer royals and then provided a deeper explanation of Hinduism as a religion. He said it began as a philosophy that God is all around us in every living thing. The Hindu deities came later, embodying those beliefs, and morphing philosophy into religion. In Hinduism there are three primary gods - Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva - and all other gods derive from them. Brahma is the creator, Vishnu is the protector, and Shiva is the destroyer and the most worshipped of all. I asked Aura why Shiva, the destroyer, is the most worshipped and he explained that Hindus believe in reincarnation, so destruction equals rebirth. Therefore, Shiva represents both the peace of death and the gift of life.
On the road from the lake, Aura pointed out a colorful painting on the side of a building depicting the elephant god Ganesha. Among other things, he is known as the god of beginnings. Below Ganesha was some writing and a date. He explained that this mural is a gigantic wedding announcement. Instead of sending out invitations, families paint the announcement on the side of their home. Jaisalmer is a relatively small city and everyone knows everyone, so word travels fast and no other wedding notice is necessary. The whole town is invited to attend and enjoy the celebration.
In the dimming light of day our group climbed a small incline to an overlook facing the Jaisalmer Fort. The fort sat atop a hill, rising over the city like a golden crown upon its head. Jaisalmer is known as the “Golden City” due to the soft yellow sandstone used throughout its architecture. Jaisalmer Fort is its jewel, reflecting golden rays of sunlight during the day and expressing a warm amber hue when lit at night. I looked forward to exploring its inner beauty tomorrow, but tonight I needed a hearty meal and a good night’s sleep. I was on the mend but not fully recovered from my illness.
Fortunately, Aura was one step ahead of me, as always. He’d booked us a gorgeous rooftop restaurant experience at a nearby historic mansion. The place knocked my socks off with its old world charm. The edge of Fort Jaisalmer winked at us as we took our seats at a long table that overlooked the city. Along with the spectacular view was fabulous music. Four musicians set up beside us playing Sufi music, which Aura said is the music of the Islamic mystics. Their vibes are always positive, praising “the unseen” power of God. Sitting there, admiring the moonlit city of Jaisalmer, discussing Hinduism with Aura, eating delicious native foods and listening to melodic music - it was one of those perfect travel moments where my imaginings met reality with a warm embrace. It was everything I wanted from our RTW trip wrapped inside a moment. I couldn’t have been happier.
The next day we started our morning tour of Fort Jaisalmer. Our local guide’s name was Puri and he looked rather fashionable with his aviator sunglasses and slicked back hair. Upon entering the fort he told us about its history and design. Built in 1156 by the Jaisalmer’s founder, Rawal Jaisal, the fort originally encompassed the entire city before the population expanded to the surrounding area. Today it’s the only living fort in Asia, housing 3000 residents within its walls. Those walls are unchanged, ready to defend against a medieval attack. The road leading to the front gate was designed in a long curve so war elephants couldn't gain momentum and ram the door. Spikes protruded from the doors to inflict damage upon the beasts and large round boulders sat atop the wall ready to be dropped on enemies.
I was surprised when Puri asked us not to buy anything from vendors within the fort. He said it’s now a UNESCO world heritage site and they are trying to get all the businesses and residences out of the fort so they can restore it to its original glory. In addition, some residents are causing structural problems within the fort. He showed us one area where the foundation was being incorrectly dug into and used as a sewage drain for hotels. It was causing the foundation to bloat and become unstable. They’re attempting to create proper drainage to fix the issue, but it was apparent that a lot of work was needed to “fortify” the fort, so to speak.
The unfortunate sewage story didn’t detract from the grandeur of the fort, which personified strength and beauty. The pale sandstone was etched in carvings, many of which punched straight through the stone to create elaborate window motifs. Terraces were sculpted into the rock with intricate designs adorning the edges. These ornate windows and terraces both allowed cool air to flow through the building as well as provided a view to the outside world. The obscuring nature of the carvings was by design. During the 12th century (and for many centuries afterward), women had to be veiled at all times. These windows maintained that “veil” while allowing visibility to the hustle and bustle of the courtyard below. Indeed, you would never know if anyone was on the other side staring back at you.
The architecture continued to impress when we visited two Jain temples within the fort. According to Aura, Jainism is a religion derived from Hinduism and developed around the same time as Buddhism. At its foundation is non-violence and a reverence for all life. The most devote Jains who seek enlightenment deny all worldly possessions and eat no meat or animal products. The vow to never take a life of any kind is so extreme that they wear no shoes so they won’t kill any insects on the ground, and they sweep in front of themselves to clear the way. On their course to enlightenment they eventually deny all food, vowing to only drink the air. They, therefore, starve to death. As the enlightened ones progress to their end other Jains care for them, which is seen as a great honor.
The Jain temples were positively stunning in their beauty and construction. With the sun glancing through windows and arches, the sandstone reflected a soft inviting light as we entered. The carvings in the surrounding pillars, walls and doorways were true works of art. You couldn’t help but feel like Indiana Jones as you walked through, entering an archeological dig previously hidden from the world. In the central shrine, a marble figure representing Chandraprabha welcomed us. Like Buddha, Chandraprabha was the 8th Tirthankara - a spiritual teacher in Jainism. His alabaster sheen sparkled with jewels and silver spheres symbolizing his chakras. It was a privilege to be in his presence, exploring the glorious temple, wandering its narrow passages, examining the fantastical gods and sacred animals etched into its stone. It was the most mystical place I’d ever set foot in.
As we continued through the fort people begged or tried to sell us goods but we pressed on, following Puri’s earlier advice. It’s strange being a tourist in poorer nations because even if you’re told to ignore vendors and beggars it feels incredibly rude to do so. I want to be a good ambassador for my country, not another rude westerner enjoying the wonders of a place but ignoring its people. So, for the most part, I’ve responded with a polite “Hello” or “No, thank you.” Sometimes it encourages people to keep talking to me and follow us, which makes it even harder because now they feel emboldened, they know I’m a soft target. The fallout is, as we’ve traveled, I’ve stopped acknowledging people, especially in India where there are so many in need. It doesn’t feel right but it’s a protective mechanism that, sadly, became easier as the trip went on.
Right or wrong, Aura alleviated my guilt somewhat during our time in India. He was our representative and was part of the culture. He knew instinctively when to engage and when to ignore, and I often saw him cordially talking with people and helping them whenever he could. For instance, as we meandered down a narrow lane within the fort, Aura stopped to aid a man and his son fixing their bicycle. He’s the greatest.
Puri led us to a wonderful view from the fort wall overlooking the front gate and the city beyond. He then took us to a shaded alcove where we ate samosas and drank masala chai tea. After our snack we left the fort and walked to a nearby street of havelis. Havalis are private residences built from sandstone. Like the aforementioned carved windows that “veiled” the ladies within, these havali windows were crafted so delicately they resembled woven lace. The stunning three-story homes filled an entire block with the most impressive among them having been built in the 17th century. Puri said the craftsmanship of that havali was so spectacular that the royal family took notice and ran the owners out of town so they could claim it for themselves. For hundreds of years it belonged to the royal family until recently, when it was finally given back to the original heirs. So esteemed is this havali’s beauty that other havalis were demolished to create space in order to admire it. It was certainly a sight to behold.
Jaisalmer is known for its textiles, so it wasn’t surprising that Puri’s next stop was a textile vendor. They had a room set up for groups like ours to showcase their goods. They offered us refreshments and laid out various blankets, wall hangings, scarfs and quilts. They were all well crafted and attractive, so I was immediately tempted. But the ever-present question persisted: Was it worth buying and hauling around for the rest of our trip? Lucky for them, the end of our trip was within sight, meaning the odds were in their favor.
When I made the mistake of expressing interest in their “tree of life” pashmina and silk blankets, one of the salesmen swept me into another room where he showed me the same blanket in various color schemes. Golds, reds, blues, and grays. Dammit! I was well and truly hooked. I settled on a double-sided burgundy and silver combination that I knew would look great on our bed. And it does! I think about India whenever I sleep beneath it.
In case I haven’t mentioned it yet, the day was blistering hot. Thus far I’d been so excited to see the fort that I’d overcome the difficulties of being melted down slowly, drip by drip. But by the time we set out on foot for lunch my energy level was critically low. Illness still pulsed through my veins and I was anxious to get back to the comfort of my air-conditioned room. But first we had to walk through a noisy, stinky, dusty street market filled with honking motorcycles, roaring tuk-tuks, and starving cows.
I’ve mentioned cows a few times since arriving in India so maybe I should divulge a bit more about why they are everywhere. Hinduism is the most dominant religion in India, and Hindus consider cows to be a sacred symbol of life. They are associated with Lord Krishna, who embodies compassion, tenderness and love. Cows have similar qualities of gentleness and generosity, providing humankind with milk, cheese, butter, and dung for fertilizer or fuel. Hindus even have a holiday venerating the cow called Gopastami when cows are washed and dressed with flowers. Harming or killing a cow is taboo in Indian society.
Due to these cultural norms, cows roam freely in India (and I imagine procreate freely as well). That amounts to a lot of cows wandering towns and streets, being fed by citizens, or finding food wherever they can. Which leads me to the sadder side of an Indian cow’s life, as far as I see it. We saw several that looked sickly or malnourished, sometimes nosing through a pile of garbage to find sustenance. So, on one hand, cows aren’t bred for slaughter, but on the other hand they aren’t necessarily healthy or taken care of. They were as ubiquitous as the stray dogs we saw in South America and I can’t say they were faring much better. But perhaps I’m mistaken? I was only in India for three weeks. It’s possible the average cow’s life surpasses my narrow impression.
I covered my face with my bandana and trudged through the market with the rest of the group. Because we’d eaten samosas not long before none of us were very hungry. The four of us planned on splitting thali, which is an assortment of dishes with roti bread and rice, but the restaurant said no sharing was allowed. Anne and Katie ordered a meal while Joni and I went shopping for bananas instead.
The rest of the day was all about staying cool in the hotel. The four of us stayed in while the rest of the group went out for dinner that night. I was feeling lousy by then and didn’t have it in me to venture outside again. I didn’t even attend our final group meeting of the day. Katie went for the both of us. She reported back that we had to reconvene in the lobby at a painful 4:45am tomorrow morning. From there we’d be traveling by bus to the city of Jodhpur.
Remarkably, Aura invited everyone to “party” with him that night despite the extremely early wake up time. This became a daily trend during our three weeks on the road with Aura. He’d lead our final meeting of the day and then ask if anyone wanted to “party.” I hadn’t heard the phrase “Does anyone want to party?” since the early 1990’s, probably in a “Beverly Hills 90210” episode about underage drinking. His question turned out to be just as vanilla as a teen soap opera. By “party” he simply meant hang out in the hotel, maybe have a drink or two. (Take a chill pill, Mom. No one was underage. As if!).
Shockingly, everyone chose to stay up late and party with Aura except us. No, these “old ladies” were fast asleep in their beds, alarms set, air conditioners blasting. I only have one immune system, after all, and India is a formidable foe. I wasn’t going to let her beat me, even if it meant missing out on a totally bitchin’ party, man.
