The Golden Temple Of The Sikhs

The Golden Temple Of The Sikhs
The Golden Temple of the Sikhs, in the Punjab region of northwestern India.

The Wagah Border Crossing, one of the most contentious borders in the world. I crossed here and spent an oh-so rewarding week inside Pakistan.

Sunday, October 13, 2019

The Golden City Of The Desert

 

The fortress castle at Jaisalmer


It's almost midnight and I am on a rooftop patio high within the fortress walls of the city of Jaisalmer.  Also known as the golden city because of the amber-colored sandstone quarried for its construction.

The Thar desert of western India, flat as a cricket field, stretches off from this hilltop fortification in all directions. To the west, maybe 100 km. away, beyond the twinkling lights of villages and rotating wind turbines, lies the border with Pakistan.

Tonight I am recuperating within these ancient battlements and blocked-up walls. The journey here has been excruciating, to say the least.  Thirty minutes earlier, weary from the long ride, I had staggered off a bus and dragged myself up this considerable hill.  After passing through the castle gate, I puffed my way on to a guesthouse situated about as high as you can get in these parts.


Typical street scene, with cattle roaming freely.  Note the castle gate at right.



Coat of arms.


My room at Sagar guesthouse was at top left.  Great view!


Overhead beams a brilliant full moon.  Hundreds of bats flap about wildly, picking off mosquitoes and other insects.  I lay back, bask in the moonlight, and take in the spectacle.

A house boy, as they call them here, brings me a silver tray with sparkling soda water juiced up with fresh limes.  They are grown locally and are sweeter than regular ones.  He pours out the bottle and offers me the glass.  "For you, Mr. James," he says.  "For you."

Mr. James, I like that; makes me feel like one of the White Rajas.  Real special.  I may even give him a tip.  I sip at the effervescing liquid and am revived by its tartness.



The house boy sweeping up.


View from terrace at Sagar guesthouse -- Pakistan off on the horizon



Where I was in India -- Rajasthan State.


One week into India, it's been quite an experience.  As advertised, and as I'd been told, a far different culture.  Certainly different than anywhere I've ever been.  Check out the following photos for an idea why...


Ganesh the elephant god -- quite popular here.


  
Imagine this sign being posted in the U.S.!!!


This part of India, the Thar Desert, is camel country.


People often ask:  Traveling solo so much, how do you connect with people?  How do you intermingle with the locals, experience the culture when you don't speak the language, or not much of it anyhow?

One way, I tell them, is the same way many do in the U.S. -- go out for morning coffee.  Or in the case of India and most other countries in this part of the world -- morning tea.  You can find coffee here, yes, but tea is the main drink. 

Down from the castle where I was staying in Jaisalmer, for instance, were various "chai wallas" or tea stalls.  I visited the one shown below each morning.  Being the only white person there, I was somewhat of an exotic and quite noticeable.  Thus lots of people approached and talked with me.

Or to put it this way:  In such places rarely, if ever, have I wanted for conversation or companionship, as long as I put forth a little effort.


Where I'd go every morning for masala chai (spicey milk tea).  


  Parbhu, the owner, behind pot of simmering tea.


Chai walla in Bundi, another town I visited.


One good thing about the chai wallas -- they're in every town and burg in India.  I look for keys such as this for how to "unlock" the culture of a place and to better experience it.  Learning snippets of the language is another -- how to say hello, good morning, thank you, that kind of thing, is another.

Familiarizing oneself with tenets of their religion is yet another -- if you're not careful, sometimes you can insult people, however unintentionally.  Also respecting local dress norms.  The entire five weeks there, I don't think that I saw an Indian woman reveal so much as a bare leg -- that's how modest their style of dress. 

So I tried to respect the local culture as best I could.  As a result, for the most part anyhow, I got along there just fine.


Typical sari or dress that women wear.


END OF PART ONE




No comments:

Post a Comment