You Never Know what You'll Pass on an Indian Road

Indian roads are far from dull. There's the constant honking, daredevil passing, selective adherence to road rules/signs, and then there's those who use the roads. Aside from the usual melange of trucks, auto rickshaws, buses, cars, motorcycles, motorbikes, pedestrians, and bicycles, one can also find animals being used as transport vehicles. In South India, that usually is the cow. In northern India, camels are a favored beast. Occasionally though, elephants are also used. Staying observant and keeping the camera handy enabled me to quickly snap this photo as we drove past on the highway to Patan, Gujarat.

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Colorful Ride to Patan

The northern drive to Patan was far from dull. Sharing the road with India’s colorful trucks were several types of animals. A brightly painted elephant with a rider on its back made its way down the road. A camel with dark decorative “tatoos” over its body pulled a cart containing some family members and goats. Two boys sat on saddled donkeys, leading their work donkey herd. Cows with thick horns ambled their way through villages. Bharwad shepherds led the sheep entrusted to them to graze in the fields. In return for herding the sheep for a month, our guide said the flock’s owners typically paid the shepherds about 25 rupees ($0.56) per sheep. In the fields, oil rigs were busy. In another field, women wearing brightly patterned skirts and one man gathered straw and carried it to a stack. All the work was done by hand – and in the heat.

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Ranakpur to Jodhpur

Leaving Ranakpur, the landscape changed rather quickly, from the more lush hilly highlands, to flat scrubby land. Small boys tended large goat herds. The red of a turban contrasted with the beige of camels and land. Fences were formed out of rocks, a fitting material considering their abundance. Buses carried nearly as many people on top as they did inside. Occasionally we saw rather poor-looking settlements of tents, outside which young gypsy children ran. Abruptly there was a stoppage of traffic. Although people were curious, no one appeared to be overanxious or upset at the delay. The rock blast safely executed, people got back in their cars and proceeded onward. Yellow fields of mustard plants gave us brief welcomed patches of color. Small villages provided bursts of activity. Goats were herded across the street. Camels were hitched to wagons. Men squatted in the shade, drinking tea and sharing beedis (a type of local cigarette). Colorful fabric hung from the shops. Women pumped water, with bright odhani cloth draped over their head.

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Timbuktu's Disappearing Tradition

Global warming and modern technology are two things putting one of the oldest trading traditions in jeopardy. For centuries, caravans of camels made the 45 day trip out into the Sahara Desert to the Malian town of Taoudenni to load up huge slabs of salt and haul them back to Timbuktu. Such salt slabs, once considered nearly as valuable as gold, were used in the preservation of food. Such trade made the towns of Timbuktu and Mopti wealthy cities, with the mined "white gold" being floated down the Niger River for trade. Due to global warming and its reduction of rain in the region, oases are drying up, making the journey more arduous for the camels carrying the huge slabs, reducing efficiency and thus profits. Some Tuaregs (the nomadic "Blue Men of the Desert") have abandoned the traditional camel caravan method of transportation for salt slabs and instead are using trucks. The journey for vehicles takes only 10 days and the trucks can carry much more than camels are, resulting in much higher profits. In addition, salt miners are emboldened to charging more due to quicker turnaround time between journeys and payment.

Similar to the plight of family farms in Wisconsin, the Tuaregs are also faced with the dilemmas imposed upon them by modernization; get big or get out. Doing it "the old fashioned way" with 200 camels no longer enables the Tuareg to earn a living, particularly when compared to those using much faster modern equipment not as subject to the harsh climate. Camels, like dairy cows of small farms, are being sold off, with the owners having to either purchase modern equipment or abandon the salt trade altogether. Along with this change comes the disappearance of a great tradition and way of life.

Having traveled from Mopti to Timbuktu via traditional pinasse, I would mourn such a loss. I fondly recall seeing the huge slabs of salt piled neatly along the shores of the Niger/Bani Rivers in Mopti, imagining the journey those slabs must have taken from the dry sea bed in the remotest parts of Mali then across the sands to Timbuktu via camels, and then down the river to this very spot. Knowing that more of those slabs today are coming not with romanticized caravans but with trucks spoils it for me - and for the Tuaregs whose traditional lives are disappearing.

This entry was inspired by the BBC article from Friday on the salt caravans.

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Gangaur Festival, Jaisalmer

With the myriad of festivals in India, chances were good that we would happen upon a festival while in Rajasthan. As luck would have it, we were in Jaisalmer during Gangaur, one of Rajasthan’s most important festival. Primarily a Hindu festival for women, Gangaur celebrates the love between Gan (Shiva) and his consort Gauri (Parvati). The figure of Parvati represents perfection in married life, so both married and unmarried women join in the celebrations. An eighteen-day festival, we were privy to the last days.

A large crowd had already assembled, composing of Jaisalmer residents, women from nearby villages, tourists, musicians, and camel herders. In the courtyard area in front of the palace were the musicians; drummers, a small boy banging a metal tambourine-like instrument, Rawanhatha, and Surpeti (a drone instrument). Later some bagpipers dressed in crisp military-like band uniforms performed. Off to another side were several brightly decorated camels and their drivers. Young women, girls, and official-looking men entered the palace. People were crawling up everywhere to get a view. Young boys pushed their way to the front of the crowd, only to be scolded by security officials who momentarily succeeded in moving them back. A brand-new SUV pulled up in front of the palace, with the maharaja promptly getting out and up into the palace.

A short time later, the procession began. Young girls dressed in bright colors and decked giddily out with jewelry walked down the stairs, clutching their metal pots with a coconut on top. The maharaja dressed in a rainbow turban and clutching a sheathed spear later emerged, mounting a regal horse. Several men carried a statue of Gauri in an embroidered golden dress, Jaipur jewelry, and a garland of flowers. Hoping to get some great photos of the procession, I dashed ahead, sometimes following a reporter. Lining both sides of the procession were large crowds of people. Movement other than forwards was nearly impossible; one had to “go with the flow.” Pausing only momentarily to take photos, I managed to get some shots before the crowd threatened to swallow me. The procession went past our hotel and right down to Gadi Sagar, a beautiful tank/lake south of the city walls. Lining the steps of the tank was a kaleidoscope of colorful women eager for a view of the festivities. The golden arched structures behind them glowed in the late afternoon light. Young women carried small figures of Gan and Gauri. Soon the golden statue of Gauri emerged through the gates. I had expected it to be dunked in the water, but instead a pooja was performed at the water’s edge, the statue turned a few times, and then carried away. Some girls placed bundles of grass into the water. Others gave their dolls a drink. With the light rapidly fading, I located my friends and we headed back to our hotel, recalling the scenes we had just witnessed.

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Camel Safari, Day Two

The next morning we were treated to a sunrise of flaming pink, purple, and yellows. Not as magical as the sunrise in Nombouri, Mali, but quite stunning. Birds landed on the hump of a camel, silhouetted against the emerging light. The call of peacocks defied the silence. Sheep & goat bells were once again heard. Our kind camel drivers gave us some fresh chai, enabling us to sip the hot drink as we enjoyed the sunrise. Breakfast consumed and gear packed up, we once again were on the move. On the way we stopped by several small villages, including one that was Hindu and another that was Muslim. Still another was occupied by people from the “untouchable” caste. Children ran out to meet us, asking for pens, money, or photos. Most of the homes were constructed out of mud and smoothed with cow dung. Some were circular and had thatched roofs and wooden windows - a picture that could have easily been from Africa. A rickety twig fence held in a small goat. Surrounding the house compound was a wall also made out of mud. Some walls had geometric designs painted in contrasting neutral mud colors. Others were painted white and had turquoise and terra-cotta colored decorations. Near a circular hut with a linear “tree of life” design painted on the outside sat an older woman. Around her upper arms were bangles made from tapering sizes of white plastic bands. From a metal pot she poured out some fresh yogurt for us to taste. A younger woman was busy milking a cow. Inside a rather spartan hut some stick-like pictographs were spotted. One boy had fun taking photos with my friend’s camera and actually composed some good pictures. Would he ever had the opportunity to develop his compositional talent, we wondered? How fortunate we are, that the situation and place we were born into as afforded us with many opportunities and experiences. With limited education, meager finances, and isolated dwelling, his are far more limited….

See more photos of our camel safari on Flickr

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Camel Safari, Day One

The following morning we boarded a jeep and left still-sleepy Jaisalmer for our safari trip. Traveling at a decent speed on the straight, smooth roads, we passed by road signs in Hindi, camels, the occasional hut, and some sheep. Sometimes the jeep had to brake for the sheep & goats which decided to occupy the road. As colors began to fill the morning sky, we got out and took a few photos. The camels and camel drivers were already waiting for us, warmly greeting us in good English. As one of the camel drivers prepared us breakfast of toast & homemade jam, boiled eggs, and fruit, an elderly shepherd wearing a bright orange turban and white kurta (long loose-fitting button shirt and loose pygama-like pants) joined us. In his hand was a decorative staff. A perfect photo opportunity, I asked the man through a camel guide if I could take his photo. Upon being told by my friend that he was so handsome, his dark skin around wrinkled in a smile. Seeing us apply sunscreen, he asked if he could borrow some. Working some of the white lotion through his mustache, the shepherd expertly encouraged a curl to appear. Still having quite a bit of sunscreen left, he paused for a moment and then rubbed the lotion all over his face and over his eyes. Our turbaned friend was then ready for his photo-op. Shortly thereafter, a brother and sister emerged onto the sandy scene. He was wearing a crotched Muslim cap and she wore a long skirt, short top embroidered with metallic thread, and an apron-like garment. On her head was a patterned veil. Covering her upper and forearms were wide silver bracelets, complemented by an equally chunky silver necklace. In a nostril was a large gold disk, matched by earrings of the same size.

With our camels all loaded up with food & water provisions for people and grasses for the camels, we mounted our camels. Very quickly I recalled the stretching sensation between my thighs that I had experienced when riding camels previously in the Sahara Desert both in Douz (Tunisia) and Timbuktu (Mali). This trek was going to be longer, so I had better get used to riding a wide animal. As the rider and camel acclimated to each other, the camel drivers handed us the reins. Sometimes my camel wanted to veer from the caravan to sample some leaves of a tree, but otherwise the camels typically followed each other quite well. Once in a while we took a stretching and water break. For lunch we lazed under the shade of a tree as we ate our freshly-made chappati bread and rice. Small birds chirped away and sometimes came quite close to us, accompanying the quietly blowing breeze with their sweet song. With the hottest part of the day gone and everyone refreshed from a catnap, we once again mounted our camels, holding on as the creature awkwardly transitioned from a kneeling to a standing position. With a forward & backward rocking motion, our camels moved onward, navigating around tall plants that reminded me of milkweed, prickly bushes, and a few scrubby trees. Sometimes we would spot a flock of sheep or goats, whose presence was made known in advance by the tinkling of bells around their necks. Many of these goats had long, floppy ears, horns, and long fur. Occasionally we would spot other animals including peacocks, quails, female camels, antelope, and large flying birds. One of my friends spotted an intact camel skeleton and loaded its skull into a burlap bag tied onto her camel. No doubt that skull would provide plenty of conversations to come.

The sun now low, we stopped for the evening on a wide band of golden sand. Nearly devoid of any plant life, its rippled dunes reminded me of Tunisia, but on a much smaller scale. While we waited for our meal to be prepared, we walked on the soft dunes in the warm late-afternoon light. Holes of rather small sizes were spotted everywhere, created by lizards, mice, and snakes. Still smaller holes were dug by the dung beetle. Slithering tracks and patterned 6-leg marks gave clue to the artists. The sound of peacocks and peahens added to the musical composition of camels, birds, and the sheep/goat bells. A short distance away we saw another small caravan of tourists, the only other group we saw. Along one dune I spotted some tiny white seashells. What were they doing there? How old were they? The shells didn’t equal my finds of shaped flint, petrified shells, red & yellow coral, and ostrich shell pieces from the Sahara Desert, but they were a nice memento anyways.

Having spotted the first evening stars, we gathered around the campfire and checked on the progress of our supper. The rice and veggies were cooking, chai (sweet tea) served, and our always-happy camel driver was working flour into bottled water. We all tried our hand at making chappatis, but ours never looked as thin, flat and round as his. With plenty of food to go around, we shared our bounty with a shepherd boy who joined us for a while. The silence of the desert was broken only by the camel drivers’ cell phones, complaints by the camels, and our conversations around the fire. As the night wore on, the clouds left the sky and the stars became visible. During the night I heard the chewing of a nearby camel getting louder. It had managed to drag the weighted bag around its neck towards the large bag of feed near me, proceeding to eat a large portion of food reserved for the following day. If a camel could belch, he sure should have.

See more photos of our camel safari on Flickr

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