Legend has it that Lake Pushkar was consecrated to Lord Brahma, the creator of the universe when a lotus dropped from his hand into the valley and a lake emerged in it's place. Now, the village of Pushkar, 14km outside of Ajmer, one of five dhams (pilgrim sites for devout hindus), is a popular destination for those seeking solace, some great shopping opportunities or perhaps a connection to their diety. Pushkar was my fifth stop of the trip, and if I had my way, it may have been the last - that's how much I loved it there. Rishikesh it wasn't, but what it was, was incredible beyond mere words... As a warning to those inclined to light reads, this one is likely going to be longer than average, so you may want to reposition yourselves and get comfortable. I'd recommend a nice chai tea to go with that! But then, I would, wouldn't I?
Pushkar, Rajasthan : January 25, 2011 - January 28, 2011
Perhaps taking two diazepam tablets the night before wasn't such a good idea, or perhaps it was simply a matter of still being shocked by what I'd experienced the day prior. Whatever it was, I was feeling quite unbalanced as I made my way on foot to the train station in Jaipur, as quickly as I could, I might add. I really wanted to be clear and away, out of that town completely. Seriously, it impacted me so much, the events of the day before, that the thought of being in that place was debilitating. We all experience it to some degree in life, whether it's the scene of a bad memory or even of a good one - there's that shortness of breath, that increase in heart rate, that tightening in our stomachs. You know the feeling I am referring to, I am sure. I needed to be gone and to stay gone. And I was quite ecstatic when the Ajmer Express pulled in at 10:00am to whisk me away; far, far away.
The train ride was great to be honest - I had a lower side berth in a sleeper car all to myself and since it faced the newly risen sun, I had the ideal place to sit, chill out and lose myself in the pages of The Alchemist. The ride itself was one and a half hours in duration, but it felt only as though twenty minutes or so had passed between boarding and exiting the train. The only time I was distracted from my book or from losing myself completely in the passing scenery through the window was when a holy man of some sort came into the car with a tambourine and decided to sit at the edge of my berth, beating the holy hell out of his weapon (instrument) of choice and singing in the worst possible voice I think I've ever heard in my life. Nails on a chalkboard are a godsend compared to what was issuing from this man's vocal cords; it felt like my ears were bearing swabbed with glass shards. Alright, I'm exaggerating, but not by very much. It was funny when he finished and thought I would pay money for that singularly horrendous performance. Nay, nay...
I even cried quite a bit on that train ride while looking out the window, consumed by my thoughts. Flashes of sights best unseen ran though my mind for sure, but I was really cut off from the world that I know and I felt so alone. Like I said, it was likely the pills or the day's events, but my mental barriers were completely down. But you know, this happens to the single traveler at some point in their travels - they feel the cut. There's nothing to connect them to the world they've left behind, and that severance really hits them. Luckily for me, it was brief - for some it is so consuming that they literally cut their trips short and go back home. Me, I couldn't even consider that as a possibility - there were things, too many to count, that I wanted to see and needed to do. But it wasn't easy, working through that grief, made doubly an imposing task by Jaipur. The one thing that I needed most in the world was a few kind words from someone back home, someone who understood that severance, the totality of the cut from the norm. I did eventually get that, but I divulged nothing of the underling reasons that were compounding everything. Like I said, no-one, not even my family or those closest to me knew about Jaipur until I wrote about it yesterday. I apologize for that - I know now that maybe you could have helped - but I didn't want to burden you. And that's just the way it is - we travelers are separated by so many miles and we know you worry enough as it is for our safety and sanity. We just can't add to it, even if it is something that is eating us alive inside like a ravenous cancer.
Enough of that - not hard to tell that I'm still impacted to this day, is it? PTSD? As a general rule, I detest self diagnosis, but if the shoe fits...
Arriving in Ajmer, I made my way on foot up the main highway, about 1 km total distance, to the bus stand, since there is no way into Pushkar save for bus. Apparently the government is looking at adding a high gauge train line from Ajmer to Pushkar, but it wasn't started when I was there. But it wasn't so much a big deal to be honest - the bus was 10 rupees and only took 20 minutes or so to make the trip. The road was treacherous though! It wound up and down mountains and careened very closely to the edges, where the ravines dropped straight down to doom. I saw a Mahindra goods carrier truck overturned at the bottom of one of these ravines on my way up one particularly twisted section of highway, and it was a relatively fresh accident - within hours. Other than that though, the ride was great! The pavement was smooth enough, but the twists and turns were unreal!
Arriving in Pushkar at the bus stand, I made my way down the road to the Hill View Hotel, which ran me a meager 200 rupees a night for a deluxe room. I chose this hotel because it was on the outskirts of the village and it only takes 5 minutes to walk from there to the Sadar Bazaar, the main market road running parallel to the ghats. I didn't really want to be right in the town itself, because I needed seclusion, peace and quiet. And this place had internet on-site and a rooftop restaurant. My room had a window facing the mountain behind and there was literally nothing between the window and that mountain save for a few scrub trees, cacti, and the odd wild peacock. Oh yes, peacocks! They would start "singing" at around 07:00, which I ended up using as my alarm clock every day. At night, usually as the sun was setting, they would fly up onto the roof of my hotel and cry, quite loudly I should add, to mark the end of the day, which oddly enough was at around 19:00. At least they were symmetrical...
I spent a lot of time in those scrub trees on the side of the mountain. It was very isolated in places, there were no people to intrude on the solitude I was seeking and there were many opportunities to lose myself in fantastic views of scrub-land deserts, mountains and of course, Pushkar itself. I had a favourite spot on the top of a foothill, just under the Savitri Devi Temple, located on the top of the mountain directly behind my hotel. I would sit there in the sun reading, listening to music, or snapping photos of wildlife, the landscape, even the of the plants around me. I didn't sit there like a monk in meditation, to be fair. I just used this spot as an escape when I felt like I needed it over the course of my stay in Pushkar.
I also explored the village itself, from top to bottom, left to right. It didn't take long, as it is so small. It only takes 10 - 15 minutes to cover the length of Pushkar, when the Sadar Bazaar is full of people. I sampled food from most of the more popular vendors on the street. I refused to eat at the restaurants here, as it was the only place that white travelers were eating at. Seriously, the best eats I had on my trips were here. Cheap, fresh and healthy. That's not to say that I didn't sample one or two of the more crowded food shops, such as Pawan, which made amazing wraps. In Quebec, I'd call them Shish Taouk, in Toronto, I'd call them Shwarmas, although in Pushkar, they were veg only; veg and paneer (homemade Indian cheese). And I'll tell you, their reputation is well deserved! I availed myself of thier sandwiches quite often. I think my favourite was the #6, tomato, onions, fried mushrooms, cheese and garlic sauce. Seriously, it tasted just like a shish taouk, minus the chicken. It reminded me of home, and that helped me to feel better, you know? That's likely why I ate there so often.
On my first day in Pushkar, I got waylaid by a Brahman who was trying very hard to coerce me into going through a religious ceremony. It's every visitors lot in life to get suckered into it. I could have said no, I could have walked away. A tiny voice in the back of my mind was screaming for all it was worth though, telling me that I needed to do it. So, I let him walk me down the ghats to the water, where we went through a highly ritualized prayer and offering to the pantheon of Hindu Gods and Goddesses. It was meant to remove bad karma from me, and to grant good karma, good health and fortune upon my family and my loved one. And it was done entirely in hindi - he would recite and I had to repeat every word. I'll be honest, there was power in those words. He explained each phrase I was repeating, so that I could understand exactly what was being asked of the various deities. At the end of it all, I cast my bad karma and my well wishes over my shoulder with a handful of flowers into the water of Lake Pushkar. And that is how you earn a Pushkar Passport - a braided red and yellow string bracelet for your wrist. I still wear mine, although it's lost 90% of it's colour. I wear it to remember that moment. It was profound you know, I felt it deep inside with every word I uttered, with every name I spoke aloud. It was a confirmation of the highest order for the love you have for your family and those others you name. The only problem with it is the donation. The priest expects a donation of at least 500 rupees from tourists. You know where this is going, don't you?
I didn't have money of that size on me, so he sent his young assistant to escort me to my hotel, where I could obtain my donation. Maybe it was a bad thing to do, but come on, 500 rupees is excessive. This caste is the richest, most powerful caste in India. They don't need that kind of money from us - but still they demand it, even from their own poor. And they keep it all. My distaste for the Brahman caste stems from here, of which I am more than certain you will see referenced many times in future entries. At any rate, you should recall that I had a fake 500 rupee note from Agra. Oh yes I did. I got ripped off by a conman and I repaid the favour in kind. Karma is a bitch and I was it's avatar. The assistant didn't even notice it was fake - he saw a 500 rupee note and crammed it into his pocket and ran back to this master with it. Me, I chuckled, and walked back into town, just nowhere near that ghat, with my new bracelet. Do I feel bad about that now? A little. I've learned a lot more about karma since that day, about the choices we make and how they affect everything that comes next. Would I do it again? Uncertain, but tending towards it's likely, yes.
The infamous Pushkar Monkey Fight video was, obviously enough by it's name, shot here on top of the mountain across town with Brahma's Temple on it's crown. There was a cafe up here selling chai, coffee and other assorted drinks and snacks. There were wicker lounge chairs here, arranged at the edge so that you could sit, chill out to great ambient Indian house music and watch the sunset over the desert. And of course, you could torment the monkey with food, or they could torment you to get it. In the case of the video, for those that haven't seen it, it was staged to look like I was attacking them, but in the end, because of my bag of nuts, they swarmed me, attacked my legs, reaching into my cargo pant pockets and generally making me freaked out. Yes, the monkeys kicked my ass! Monkeys = 1, Joer = 0. Epic fail.
The sunset was quite exceptional - nothing like the one I would see a few days later in the Thar Desert in Jaisalmer, but still, it was something. The entire atmosphere of that mountain top was serene. The people were awesome up there, the music top notch and the smell of cannabis was everywhere. Joints passed up and down the line of chairs frequently as the sun made it's way below the horizon. And no, not my style... i prefer to drink it instead (you'll see). Even the monkeys sat watching the sunset - I kid you not. They watched it the way meerkats watch the sunrise in Africa - it was amazing to see this behavior from them - but then, I witnessed very real human behavior from them in many places around the country during my travels, so now, it doesn't really surprise me anymore - it's something I just expect to see. At the time though, it felt kind of bizarre to share something so common as watching a sunset together with them. They were amazingly gentle, voraciously aggressive and everything in between. Feeding them from my hand was quite fun! If I'd closed my fingers over the nuts, the monkeys would peel open my fist to get at them. Or they would get angry at me and hit me. Sometimes it was too much though - there were two alpha females that were hogging all of the food, as they had young to feed (still breast feeding), and there were innumerable young males all vying for the position of alpha male, so you can imagine how that scramble for food and dominance went. It was during those moments that I saw, and subsequently learned, how to become the alpha male in the pack. And to be honest, I used those tactics on monkeys all over India to great effect when I needed to assert that I was the alpha compared to them. All you need to do is quickly lunge your head in their direction and bare your teeth. Your speed, your size and your fearless aggressive movements make them back down, rapidly. And it's something they understand on an instinctive level - you aren't really altering anything in their behaviour by doing it this way - it's so much better than yelling and waving your arms like a fool or even throwing rocks or sticks at them. Those things just make them aggressive towards people and solve nothing. Triggering their instincts works so much better, faster and offers less chance for an attack.
And the people meeting thing started all over again in Pushkar - a few people I would see again much later and one that I had seen a few days ago in Jaipur - yep, the Spaniard showed up in Pushkar, at my hotel. Understand, Pushkar is small, yes, but its got 80+ hotels and guest houses in it. It is just weird how this all works, same people, same places, different times. Still, I didn't get his name - I really wish I did, he was cool! But it really is like that on the road. YOu just click with people and its like you've known them for a very long time - you talk and talk and go do stuff and it just never crosses your mind as to what their names are. I also met two girls from the Czech Republic here who I'd wished I gotten their names. I also met two guys from the USA, Carey and Mike (name exchange on their part), who had just arrived from Nagaland, a recently opened area of India that has been restricted to tourists for a very long time. They told me that in the two months they were in Nagaland, they never saw another white person. Kind of explains the name exchange. We had some good talks, and they actually came with me up to the Brahma Temple for sunset. I also met a real cool guy from Finland at the hotel too (all these people were at Hill View with me) who passed the day with Mike, Carey and I. The two Americans and I got along great and spent a lot of time together there in Pushkar. However, Mike and Carey left the day after sunset and I didn't see them again on my trip, to my dismay - they were heading north for Shimla and Manali. The Spaniard left for Bundi, the girls from the Czech left for Jaisalmer (the day before me) and the guy from Finland went to Natal.
One thing that I learned in Pushkar was that I really enjoy washing my clothes by hand. Strange, I know, but it's what we do on the road - with shampoo no less. Its rare to NOT see laundry draped over the balconies drying in the sun at a hotel. There really was a sense of purpose and accomplishment in doing it too - I really enjoyed it! To be honest, I only used a laundry service once on my whole trip, opting to do it myself.
Another thing I spent a lot of time doing in Pushkar was shopping. I got some really nice pillow covers, an orange one and a sky blue one, both with matching elephants embroidered on them. I also bought a tonne of postcards. I got myself the first of two travel journals that I would buy on my trip there as well, made from camel leather with an Om symbol on it for 75 rupees.
All of this distraction lessened my mental state from depression, because that's what it was in truth. Jaipur fucked me up large and the loneliness I was feeling en route to Pushkar were weighing heavily on me when I got here. By the time I left for Jaisalmer, I felt so much better. I'd shuttered Jaipur behind an iron curtain in my mind and didn't think of it much on my trip - once and a while it would creep out, but I got really good at suppressing it again. And speaking of Jaisalmer, I bought a bus ticket to get me there, as you'll recall there are no trains in Pushkar yet. It only cost me 300 rupees for the 14 hour ride, and it was a comfortable bus with functioning windows.
While I was waiting for the bus to arrive on the night I left (11:00pm) I saw something that replaced my Jaipur pain somewhat. As I stood there waiting for my bus, I watched a pair of dogs chasing EVERY vehicle that passed, car, motorbike, truck, rickshaw, whatever, and they were barking at them and biting at the tires and bumpers. I made a comment about this to the guy who worked at the bus stop and he told me that those two dogs were a mated pair and every time they had a litter, the puppies would get run over by vehicles. End result, the dogs equated them with something that killed their young and they would attack them to get them to leave the area. Very strange behaviour for dogs I thought, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a very natural reaction. They were only acting on instinct, driving away what they saw as predators. It actually was sad to hear the story, but to watch those two protect their latest litter of puppies was something that really brought a smile to my face and amazement to my mind.
And for once in the history of India, a bus actually showed up on time! As they say, "In India, anything is possible, except for the buses being on time". So, imagine my shock. I board my bus after storing my backpack, and started a 14 hour overnight ride to Jaisalmer with two Turkish people, a couple, I'd met outside the bus stand. Those two and I would become fast friends and hang out repeatedly, but that's a story for the next entry.
And yes, there were lessons learned in Pushkar. Obviously, I learned how to deal with what I saw in Jaipur, but more importantly, because of that Brahman ceremony I did, I felt a sense of the infinite, really, like there was something more to this universe than just us, something more powerful and indescribable. I learned, in short, a measure of faith. In what, I still don't really know, but I have an idea now...
Pushkar, Rajasthan : January 25, 2011 - January 28, 2011
Perhaps taking two diazepam tablets the night before wasn't such a good idea, or perhaps it was simply a matter of still being shocked by what I'd experienced the day prior. Whatever it was, I was feeling quite unbalanced as I made my way on foot to the train station in Jaipur, as quickly as I could, I might add. I really wanted to be clear and away, out of that town completely. Seriously, it impacted me so much, the events of the day before, that the thought of being in that place was debilitating. We all experience it to some degree in life, whether it's the scene of a bad memory or even of a good one - there's that shortness of breath, that increase in heart rate, that tightening in our stomachs. You know the feeling I am referring to, I am sure. I needed to be gone and to stay gone. And I was quite ecstatic when the Ajmer Express pulled in at 10:00am to whisk me away; far, far away.
The train ride was great to be honest - I had a lower side berth in a sleeper car all to myself and since it faced the newly risen sun, I had the ideal place to sit, chill out and lose myself in the pages of The Alchemist. The ride itself was one and a half hours in duration, but it felt only as though twenty minutes or so had passed between boarding and exiting the train. The only time I was distracted from my book or from losing myself completely in the passing scenery through the window was when a holy man of some sort came into the car with a tambourine and decided to sit at the edge of my berth, beating the holy hell out of his weapon (instrument) of choice and singing in the worst possible voice I think I've ever heard in my life. Nails on a chalkboard are a godsend compared to what was issuing from this man's vocal cords; it felt like my ears were bearing swabbed with glass shards. Alright, I'm exaggerating, but not by very much. It was funny when he finished and thought I would pay money for that singularly horrendous performance. Nay, nay...
I even cried quite a bit on that train ride while looking out the window, consumed by my thoughts. Flashes of sights best unseen ran though my mind for sure, but I was really cut off from the world that I know and I felt so alone. Like I said, it was likely the pills or the day's events, but my mental barriers were completely down. But you know, this happens to the single traveler at some point in their travels - they feel the cut. There's nothing to connect them to the world they've left behind, and that severance really hits them. Luckily for me, it was brief - for some it is so consuming that they literally cut their trips short and go back home. Me, I couldn't even consider that as a possibility - there were things, too many to count, that I wanted to see and needed to do. But it wasn't easy, working through that grief, made doubly an imposing task by Jaipur. The one thing that I needed most in the world was a few kind words from someone back home, someone who understood that severance, the totality of the cut from the norm. I did eventually get that, but I divulged nothing of the underling reasons that were compounding everything. Like I said, no-one, not even my family or those closest to me knew about Jaipur until I wrote about it yesterday. I apologize for that - I know now that maybe you could have helped - but I didn't want to burden you. And that's just the way it is - we travelers are separated by so many miles and we know you worry enough as it is for our safety and sanity. We just can't add to it, even if it is something that is eating us alive inside like a ravenous cancer.
Enough of that - not hard to tell that I'm still impacted to this day, is it? PTSD? As a general rule, I detest self diagnosis, but if the shoe fits...
Arriving in Ajmer, I made my way on foot up the main highway, about 1 km total distance, to the bus stand, since there is no way into Pushkar save for bus. Apparently the government is looking at adding a high gauge train line from Ajmer to Pushkar, but it wasn't started when I was there. But it wasn't so much a big deal to be honest - the bus was 10 rupees and only took 20 minutes or so to make the trip. The road was treacherous though! It wound up and down mountains and careened very closely to the edges, where the ravines dropped straight down to doom. I saw a Mahindra goods carrier truck overturned at the bottom of one of these ravines on my way up one particularly twisted section of highway, and it was a relatively fresh accident - within hours. Other than that though, the ride was great! The pavement was smooth enough, but the twists and turns were unreal!
Arriving in Pushkar at the bus stand, I made my way down the road to the Hill View Hotel, which ran me a meager 200 rupees a night for a deluxe room. I chose this hotel because it was on the outskirts of the village and it only takes 5 minutes to walk from there to the Sadar Bazaar, the main market road running parallel to the ghats. I didn't really want to be right in the town itself, because I needed seclusion, peace and quiet. And this place had internet on-site and a rooftop restaurant. My room had a window facing the mountain behind and there was literally nothing between the window and that mountain save for a few scrub trees, cacti, and the odd wild peacock. Oh yes, peacocks! They would start "singing" at around 07:00, which I ended up using as my alarm clock every day. At night, usually as the sun was setting, they would fly up onto the roof of my hotel and cry, quite loudly I should add, to mark the end of the day, which oddly enough was at around 19:00. At least they were symmetrical...
I spent a lot of time in those scrub trees on the side of the mountain. It was very isolated in places, there were no people to intrude on the solitude I was seeking and there were many opportunities to lose myself in fantastic views of scrub-land deserts, mountains and of course, Pushkar itself. I had a favourite spot on the top of a foothill, just under the Savitri Devi Temple, located on the top of the mountain directly behind my hotel. I would sit there in the sun reading, listening to music, or snapping photos of wildlife, the landscape, even the of the plants around me. I didn't sit there like a monk in meditation, to be fair. I just used this spot as an escape when I felt like I needed it over the course of my stay in Pushkar.
I also explored the village itself, from top to bottom, left to right. It didn't take long, as it is so small. It only takes 10 - 15 minutes to cover the length of Pushkar, when the Sadar Bazaar is full of people. I sampled food from most of the more popular vendors on the street. I refused to eat at the restaurants here, as it was the only place that white travelers were eating at. Seriously, the best eats I had on my trips were here. Cheap, fresh and healthy. That's not to say that I didn't sample one or two of the more crowded food shops, such as Pawan, which made amazing wraps. In Quebec, I'd call them Shish Taouk, in Toronto, I'd call them Shwarmas, although in Pushkar, they were veg only; veg and paneer (homemade Indian cheese). And I'll tell you, their reputation is well deserved! I availed myself of thier sandwiches quite often. I think my favourite was the #6, tomato, onions, fried mushrooms, cheese and garlic sauce. Seriously, it tasted just like a shish taouk, minus the chicken. It reminded me of home, and that helped me to feel better, you know? That's likely why I ate there so often.
On my first day in Pushkar, I got waylaid by a Brahman who was trying very hard to coerce me into going through a religious ceremony. It's every visitors lot in life to get suckered into it. I could have said no, I could have walked away. A tiny voice in the back of my mind was screaming for all it was worth though, telling me that I needed to do it. So, I let him walk me down the ghats to the water, where we went through a highly ritualized prayer and offering to the pantheon of Hindu Gods and Goddesses. It was meant to remove bad karma from me, and to grant good karma, good health and fortune upon my family and my loved one. And it was done entirely in hindi - he would recite and I had to repeat every word. I'll be honest, there was power in those words. He explained each phrase I was repeating, so that I could understand exactly what was being asked of the various deities. At the end of it all, I cast my bad karma and my well wishes over my shoulder with a handful of flowers into the water of Lake Pushkar. And that is how you earn a Pushkar Passport - a braided red and yellow string bracelet for your wrist. I still wear mine, although it's lost 90% of it's colour. I wear it to remember that moment. It was profound you know, I felt it deep inside with every word I uttered, with every name I spoke aloud. It was a confirmation of the highest order for the love you have for your family and those others you name. The only problem with it is the donation. The priest expects a donation of at least 500 rupees from tourists. You know where this is going, don't you?
I didn't have money of that size on me, so he sent his young assistant to escort me to my hotel, where I could obtain my donation. Maybe it was a bad thing to do, but come on, 500 rupees is excessive. This caste is the richest, most powerful caste in India. They don't need that kind of money from us - but still they demand it, even from their own poor. And they keep it all. My distaste for the Brahman caste stems from here, of which I am more than certain you will see referenced many times in future entries. At any rate, you should recall that I had a fake 500 rupee note from Agra. Oh yes I did. I got ripped off by a conman and I repaid the favour in kind. Karma is a bitch and I was it's avatar. The assistant didn't even notice it was fake - he saw a 500 rupee note and crammed it into his pocket and ran back to this master with it. Me, I chuckled, and walked back into town, just nowhere near that ghat, with my new bracelet. Do I feel bad about that now? A little. I've learned a lot more about karma since that day, about the choices we make and how they affect everything that comes next. Would I do it again? Uncertain, but tending towards it's likely, yes.
The infamous Pushkar Monkey Fight video was, obviously enough by it's name, shot here on top of the mountain across town with Brahma's Temple on it's crown. There was a cafe up here selling chai, coffee and other assorted drinks and snacks. There were wicker lounge chairs here, arranged at the edge so that you could sit, chill out to great ambient Indian house music and watch the sunset over the desert. And of course, you could torment the monkey with food, or they could torment you to get it. In the case of the video, for those that haven't seen it, it was staged to look like I was attacking them, but in the end, because of my bag of nuts, they swarmed me, attacked my legs, reaching into my cargo pant pockets and generally making me freaked out. Yes, the monkeys kicked my ass! Monkeys = 1, Joer = 0. Epic fail.
The sunset was quite exceptional - nothing like the one I would see a few days later in the Thar Desert in Jaisalmer, but still, it was something. The entire atmosphere of that mountain top was serene. The people were awesome up there, the music top notch and the smell of cannabis was everywhere. Joints passed up and down the line of chairs frequently as the sun made it's way below the horizon. And no, not my style... i prefer to drink it instead (you'll see). Even the monkeys sat watching the sunset - I kid you not. They watched it the way meerkats watch the sunrise in Africa - it was amazing to see this behavior from them - but then, I witnessed very real human behavior from them in many places around the country during my travels, so now, it doesn't really surprise me anymore - it's something I just expect to see. At the time though, it felt kind of bizarre to share something so common as watching a sunset together with them. They were amazingly gentle, voraciously aggressive and everything in between. Feeding them from my hand was quite fun! If I'd closed my fingers over the nuts, the monkeys would peel open my fist to get at them. Or they would get angry at me and hit me. Sometimes it was too much though - there were two alpha females that were hogging all of the food, as they had young to feed (still breast feeding), and there were innumerable young males all vying for the position of alpha male, so you can imagine how that scramble for food and dominance went. It was during those moments that I saw, and subsequently learned, how to become the alpha male in the pack. And to be honest, I used those tactics on monkeys all over India to great effect when I needed to assert that I was the alpha compared to them. All you need to do is quickly lunge your head in their direction and bare your teeth. Your speed, your size and your fearless aggressive movements make them back down, rapidly. And it's something they understand on an instinctive level - you aren't really altering anything in their behaviour by doing it this way - it's so much better than yelling and waving your arms like a fool or even throwing rocks or sticks at them. Those things just make them aggressive towards people and solve nothing. Triggering their instincts works so much better, faster and offers less chance for an attack.
And the people meeting thing started all over again in Pushkar - a few people I would see again much later and one that I had seen a few days ago in Jaipur - yep, the Spaniard showed up in Pushkar, at my hotel. Understand, Pushkar is small, yes, but its got 80+ hotels and guest houses in it. It is just weird how this all works, same people, same places, different times. Still, I didn't get his name - I really wish I did, he was cool! But it really is like that on the road. YOu just click with people and its like you've known them for a very long time - you talk and talk and go do stuff and it just never crosses your mind as to what their names are. I also met two girls from the Czech Republic here who I'd wished I gotten their names. I also met two guys from the USA, Carey and Mike (name exchange on their part), who had just arrived from Nagaland, a recently opened area of India that has been restricted to tourists for a very long time. They told me that in the two months they were in Nagaland, they never saw another white person. Kind of explains the name exchange. We had some good talks, and they actually came with me up to the Brahma Temple for sunset. I also met a real cool guy from Finland at the hotel too (all these people were at Hill View with me) who passed the day with Mike, Carey and I. The two Americans and I got along great and spent a lot of time together there in Pushkar. However, Mike and Carey left the day after sunset and I didn't see them again on my trip, to my dismay - they were heading north for Shimla and Manali. The Spaniard left for Bundi, the girls from the Czech left for Jaisalmer (the day before me) and the guy from Finland went to Natal.
One thing that I learned in Pushkar was that I really enjoy washing my clothes by hand. Strange, I know, but it's what we do on the road - with shampoo no less. Its rare to NOT see laundry draped over the balconies drying in the sun at a hotel. There really was a sense of purpose and accomplishment in doing it too - I really enjoyed it! To be honest, I only used a laundry service once on my whole trip, opting to do it myself.
Another thing I spent a lot of time doing in Pushkar was shopping. I got some really nice pillow covers, an orange one and a sky blue one, both with matching elephants embroidered on them. I also bought a tonne of postcards. I got myself the first of two travel journals that I would buy on my trip there as well, made from camel leather with an Om symbol on it for 75 rupees.
All of this distraction lessened my mental state from depression, because that's what it was in truth. Jaipur fucked me up large and the loneliness I was feeling en route to Pushkar were weighing heavily on me when I got here. By the time I left for Jaisalmer, I felt so much better. I'd shuttered Jaipur behind an iron curtain in my mind and didn't think of it much on my trip - once and a while it would creep out, but I got really good at suppressing it again. And speaking of Jaisalmer, I bought a bus ticket to get me there, as you'll recall there are no trains in Pushkar yet. It only cost me 300 rupees for the 14 hour ride, and it was a comfortable bus with functioning windows.
While I was waiting for the bus to arrive on the night I left (11:00pm) I saw something that replaced my Jaipur pain somewhat. As I stood there waiting for my bus, I watched a pair of dogs chasing EVERY vehicle that passed, car, motorbike, truck, rickshaw, whatever, and they were barking at them and biting at the tires and bumpers. I made a comment about this to the guy who worked at the bus stop and he told me that those two dogs were a mated pair and every time they had a litter, the puppies would get run over by vehicles. End result, the dogs equated them with something that killed their young and they would attack them to get them to leave the area. Very strange behaviour for dogs I thought, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was a very natural reaction. They were only acting on instinct, driving away what they saw as predators. It actually was sad to hear the story, but to watch those two protect their latest litter of puppies was something that really brought a smile to my face and amazement to my mind.
And for once in the history of India, a bus actually showed up on time! As they say, "In India, anything is possible, except for the buses being on time". So, imagine my shock. I board my bus after storing my backpack, and started a 14 hour overnight ride to Jaisalmer with two Turkish people, a couple, I'd met outside the bus stand. Those two and I would become fast friends and hang out repeatedly, but that's a story for the next entry.
And yes, there were lessons learned in Pushkar. Obviously, I learned how to deal with what I saw in Jaipur, but more importantly, because of that Brahman ceremony I did, I felt a sense of the infinite, really, like there was something more to this universe than just us, something more powerful and indescribable. I learned, in short, a measure of faith. In what, I still don't really know, but I have an idea now...
No comments:
Post a Comment