We froze during the night. The temperature dropped to 45 degrees and the tents are unheated! We got up shivering and decided we couldn’t take a shower in the tent. In fact, we didn’t know how to take a shower in the tent. They brought in a warm bucket of water and there was a hose connected to a nozzle to rinse you off. We couldn’t exactly understand where the water was supposed to go once you started spraying yourself.
We then remembered that we were at a Camel Festival. If we could stand the smell of the camels, they should be able to stand our smell. So we washed a little bit and headed over to the food tent. The entire city of Pushkar is Vegetarian and they had a veg (as they call it in India) buffet..
The male help at the Tent Village wear a single 3 meter long piece of cloth that they can fold and shape into pants. It is amazing. I wanted to try, so they dressed me. It is very complicated, but we took pictures at every stage and I plan to show Billy and Kevin so they can try it.
We then hopped in our van and were driven as close to the center of Pushkar as the police would allow. Because of terrorism, at all large gatherings there are a lot of police presence. We started walking, trying to find the only Brahman Temple in India. A whole lot of other people were also trying to find the Temple. We joined the crowd, ever alert for pickpockets, and fake priests. We had been warned!
The narrow streets were lined on both sides by cheap stalls selling food and other items. In the streets were tourists, most with outrageously large cameras, pilgrims coming for a holy bath and poor and maimed people begging. We finally found our way to the famed temple. An Indian man speaking in English said we had to remove our shoes before entering the temple (mandatory in all Hindu, Moslem, and Buddhist Temples) and leave our cameras, cell phones and purses behind before entering the holy temple. Ferris and Courtney went first, we held all their belongings. They returned with a guide they had picked up in the Temple. The guide took us into the temple. He spoke fast, we learned nothing. The one thing we he made clear was that lots of people give lots of money to the temple.
He then took us to the Holy Lake of Pushkar. This is the highlight of the Pushkar festival if you are a Hindu. A bath in the sacred waters of Pushkar is a special ritual, but the lake had been drained and not yet refilled. Like much of India’s infrastructure, the project was running late. So now the sacred lake was a big mud hole with some tiny tanks in which the pilgrims could take their ritual bath.
Our guide directed us down to stairs leading to the fake lake. All of a sudden he split us up, instructing us to sit on different levels of the ghat with our own private priest who started chanting, and throwing flowers, and dotting our heads with colors. He said he was speaking the ancient language of Sanskrit, blessing my dead parents, in-laws and I think Barack Obama. As he chanted in Sanskrit he made me repeat the words. Some think I can’t speak English well, you can imagine how my Sanskrit was. At last the prayers ended, and he asked for money. Now I was on familiar ground, bargaining with an Indian. He said I should pay 2000 Rupees, feed a family for a week earn good Karma. I suggested 500 Rupees, put the family on a diet. He came down to 1500 Rupees, families were Veg, didn’t eat expensive meat. I was ready to counter with 500 rupees, rice was a fine staple. Then I wondered why is a priest bargaining? Was he speaking Sanskrit or chanting a popular song? I then started to wonder: was he a priest? The bargain was struck, I paid less than I wanted, I left. Group consensus - Indian hucksters 1 American tourists 0.
When I went to pay him, my wallet was missing from the man-purse I was carrying. This was getting ugly. When did someone have an opportunity to pinch my wallet? Oh the troubles I foresaw. The loss of a lot of money - it was the least of my worries, It was the credit cards, how would they be replaced in India?
Well, nothing to do, so we walked over to the fairgrounds to watch the camels and the horses and look at people selling stuff we wouldn’t ever want to buy. We were now almost at noon on the 1st of our 3 days in dusty, grimy, ugly Pushkar, sleeping in a freezing tent at night, sweating during the day, and not being able to take a shower. We returned to our tents to plot our next move. Our tent had been cleaned, and sitting on the table was my wallet, with all its cards and money, nothing was touched. This is what restores your faith in India. The people who were running the Tent Village were honorable and extremely nice. In fact, in spite of it all we decided we liked the Tent Village more than Pushkar. However, we do like our daily showers, so we decided it was time to leave Pushkar and find somewhere else in Rajasthan to visit.
Here is a short note about our tour operator. This is the first private tour we have ever taken. We worked out our own itinerary, they provide, drivers, tickets, hotels, etc. The joy of it is we can change our mind and they are exceptional in accommodating us. We told them we want out of the tent village and get us to Jodhpur. Turns out it is too long to drive so they suggest we drive and spend the night at a Heritage Hotel in Nimaj called the Nimaj Palace.
I am not sure how what happened next happened, but somehow Cliff and Cathy had a fantastic 1 ½ massage while we were waiting in our Tent Village to leave.
We thought it was a short massage, but it seemed to never end, finally Courtney and Ferris, came into the massage room and suggested we get moving. At that point Cathy and I both thought of spending a few more days in the tent village, as long as we could get continual massages might not be that bad.
At any rate, we got in our van and left at 4pm for the Nimaj Palace. I have a very detailed map of India with me and we couldn’t find Nimaj on it. Warning sign? We drove into the biggest traffic jam we have ever been in. If Indian driving is crazy, and it is, this was insanity. Trucks stopped for miles, cars driving on all sides of the roads, cows, an occasional ambulance, people walking across the stopped the traffic. It was a nightmare. People are driving around the stopped trucks, they have left the highway, and are driving on dirt, throwing dust everywhere. Our driver, drives on, constantly getting cell calls, occasionally stopping to ask questions. 4 hours latter we are in the middle of nowhere and he takes a tiny dirt turnoff, and we drive for a while, until we reach a village. More stopping and asking questions, the villagers point him up a narrow lane, we think it is impossible for the van to travel on, it is so narrow. We go thru archways that have a clearance of less than an inch on each side. We are forced to make a right hand turn into a driveway that we think can not be navigated..
We go thru an archway, and there is a Palace in front of us. We made it! We check in, wash up and head to the dining room for drinks and dinner. The man that checks us into the Palace comes by and starts telling us about the palace. It has been in the same family for 300 years. The royalty stills lives there. He is their first cousin there will be 45 guests tomorrow night. Tonight there are 4 guests: us. The Palace is ours, alone.
He then regales us with stories of Rajasthan warriors and the kingdoms that formed the state. Cathy and I have read many novels and histories of this area and his stories were true. From the fake mumbo-jumbo in Pushkar, a real Royal was telling us of his family’s history.
Then to top it off, they served us, unquestionably the best dinner we have had in India prepared by the family’s personal cooks. No menu, the food was served family style, in unending portions. We each had our favorites; mine was the Gobi (Cauliflower) and an incredible desert. He promised me the recipe for the Cauliflower tomorrow.
We started walking towards our palace rooms and heard music, it turns out there is Sikh Temple nearby and we were hearing the live beautiful music.
Somehow this day that started out so miserably in Pushkar, ended up magically in a Palace in the village of Namaj.
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