We headed to Jaisalmer to relive an adventure Steve had when he came here back in his early twenties. It's always been his desire to take our nine year old son, Owen, on a camel trek and spend the night under the desert stars. So the big day was finally approaching, one he's been looking forward to for months.
But first we have to get there. It's a four hour drive between towns and if you stop for lunch with kids, count on five. On the way there is nothing to see but wide open desert and scraggly shrubbery. It was a super monotonous drive so I opened my book to read a chapter. Occasionally I would look up from my book to see a lone goat herder or a solitary home made of sandstone and a thatched roof. Where does the thatch come from? It's a hard life for anyone who homesteads out here. I've heard the wells have to go almost three hundred feet down for any sign of water. I'm amazed that someone can actually scratch out a living or would dare to live out here.
We did have a little excitement along the way. We passed a large truck flipped upside down. It had just happened minutes before we passed and other cars had stopped to help. No one looked hurt so our driver kept going. How did that happen on such a boring stretch of road? The kids talked about the scene for a while.
Occasionally we had a hard break or hard weave to the left or right to avoid hitting a meandering sheep or goat. There were a couple times I thought the animal was a gonner the way our driver would slam on his breaks and be just inches from hitting it. I'd shake my head as the sheep would pass by completely oblivious to his perilous decision. It wouldn't be India if there wasn't a herd of goats, sheep, or occasional cow competing for space on the road. I thought about the dramatic scene with the truck. Perhaps this is what happened to cause him to flip. Maybe he just fell asleep.
Out of nowhere there is sign of life; about half way between Jodphur and Jaisalmer is a type of flea market with booths lined up all along the side of the road. We didn't stop but some tour buses did and we watched gaggles of tourists file out with cameras around their necks ready to capture on film the primative type of commerce. This is a place where many of the villagers trade, buy and sell goods ranging from brooms and steel pots to camels. Camels were standing like a parking lot at one end of the market ready to be sold or traded in for a newer model, 100,000 rupees for a new one, which is over two thousand U.S. dollars. This must take villagers years to save up for.
In another dramatic scene, we passed a dead cow lying in the sand, rib bones exposed, bloated with the sun, being pulled and tugged by a wild dog enjoying the meal of a lifetime. It was a harsh reminder to us how tough the desert life can be. We may be tourists who sit comfortably in our airconditioned car and sip on cool bottled water, but this is real life and someone's livelihood just turned to dog food.
But first we have to get there. It's a four hour drive between towns and if you stop for lunch with kids, count on five. On the way there is nothing to see but wide open desert and scraggly shrubbery. It was a super monotonous drive so I opened my book to read a chapter. Occasionally I would look up from my book to see a lone goat herder or a solitary home made of sandstone and a thatched roof. Where does the thatch come from? It's a hard life for anyone who homesteads out here. I've heard the wells have to go almost three hundred feet down for any sign of water. I'm amazed that someone can actually scratch out a living or would dare to live out here.
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| random sandstone hut along the road |
We did have a little excitement along the way. We passed a large truck flipped upside down. It had just happened minutes before we passed and other cars had stopped to help. No one looked hurt so our driver kept going. How did that happen on such a boring stretch of road? The kids talked about the scene for a while.
Occasionally we had a hard break or hard weave to the left or right to avoid hitting a meandering sheep or goat. There were a couple times I thought the animal was a gonner the way our driver would slam on his breaks and be just inches from hitting it. I'd shake my head as the sheep would pass by completely oblivious to his perilous decision. It wouldn't be India if there wasn't a herd of goats, sheep, or occasional cow competing for space on the road. I thought about the dramatic scene with the truck. Perhaps this is what happened to cause him to flip. Maybe he just fell asleep.
Out of nowhere there is sign of life; about half way between Jodphur and Jaisalmer is a type of flea market with booths lined up all along the side of the road. We didn't stop but some tour buses did and we watched gaggles of tourists file out with cameras around their necks ready to capture on film the primative type of commerce. This is a place where many of the villagers trade, buy and sell goods ranging from brooms and steel pots to camels. Camels were standing like a parking lot at one end of the market ready to be sold or traded in for a newer model, 100,000 rupees for a new one, which is over two thousand U.S. dollars. This must take villagers years to save up for.
In another dramatic scene, we passed a dead cow lying in the sand, rib bones exposed, bloated with the sun, being pulled and tugged by a wild dog enjoying the meal of a lifetime. It was a harsh reminder to us how tough the desert life can be. We may be tourists who sit comfortably in our airconditioned car and sip on cool bottled water, but this is real life and someone's livelihood just turned to dog food.
*****
Are you still traveling? This is a long trip, I'm jealous.
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