The “Golden City” of Jaisalmer was quite the hot spot on the trade route years ago and evidence of the city’s former wealth is visible in the intricate architecture of the havelis (merchant houses) and a fort that makes the one in Bikaner look like Smurfette’s mushroom house. About 100 km from the Pakistan border, Jailsamer is known for its silver jewelry, beaded and mirrored textiles, and Jain temples. Unfortunately, the fort is sinking like Venice, due to the 5,000 folks inhabiting the fort every day crammed into the many hotels, shops and restaurants.
Our tour guide was Bhagwan Singh, an educated, well-traveled gentleman, as proud of his hometown as Duke fans are of Coach K. He was kind and helpful but had the mannerism of a drill sergeant when it came to pointing out the sights, giving us little swats when we weren’t paying attention and unabashedly using the locals as exhibits to his lessons. His tour went a little like this.
Pay attention!...look at the beautiful architecture…you only see in Jaisalmer!.....please watch the cow dung…walk left!...see her? Muslim! Beaded top and dark sari….probably poor …..Hindi women wear bright saris…that beautifully made only in Jaisalmer!...careful for scooter...The man that built haveli is very wealthy. Opium trader! Illegal now….now only tea…Pakistan not a problem anymore; we have a fence….it’s electric...there is a military base here just in case…..She is married, see all her bangles? She wears every day. Then she will burn them with her husband. Probably soon, she is old….pink turbans only for merchants...khaki turbans for carpenters…I said khaki! Not green!...careful for the Pig!
After our tour we stopped at a co-op textile shop, where we stocked up on pillows and coverlets like we were planning to open a Pier One at our next hotel. We then headed west to Khuri, with loads of architectural knowledge, very few rupees, and 13 beaded pillows en route to DC via India Post.
In Khuri we took a much-anticipated camel safari out to the Thar Desert. Each of us shared a camel with a guide, who sat behind us in the saddle and used clicks and kicks to steer. My camel, Sia, was lovely and sweet; my guide Raji was flirtatious and wasted. The views were spectacular- antelope herds running across silky sand dunes, women in colorful saris carrying baskets on their heads, and quaint villages dotting the skyline. We played catch with charming kids who resourcefully hustled us out of hair pins when they figured out we left our wallets at home. It would have been perfect if Raji weren’t holding on to my hair like reins, reeking of booze, and singing off key. We stopped at 5:30 to watch the sunset and while we waited for the red ball to drop we ran through the dunes doing cartwheels, handstands and jumps, at Kristen’s direction, lady-like and poised as always. Raji watched us flip around, drinking from Kristen’s water bottle, with my pashmina wrapped around his shoulders, occasionally using the edge of it to wipe his mustache. Awesome.
After the ride, we returned to Khuri to stay in our hut, equipped with a dirt floor and a thatched roof and little cots that a prison probably rejected because they were too uncomfortable. The lack of creature comforts was overshadowed by the fantastic food, pretty courtyard and the memory of a desert sunset that looked like the cover of a National Geographic magazine. Even Raji ultimately redeemed himself by bonding with me over our shared love of dogs as we returned to camp. He revealed that it was his adorable pup Lepu, that had been following us during our trek, cutely chasing down an antelope, and snuggling with Sia the camel at sunset.
“Are you married?” he asked.
“Yes,” I lied for convenience’s sake.
“Too bad,” he replied, “I love dogs. And camels.”
Me too Raji, me too.
Awesome!!!!!
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