Day 93 - Playing Chicken With Camels

Today we began our trip into Rajasthan. The roads are sometimes quite good, and sometimes entirely unpaved, and pocked with potholes and virtual lakes from the recent monsoon. In theory, traffic travels on the left. In reality, traffic travels on whatever side of the road is most convenient. "Traffic" consists of just about anything you can imagine with wheels - cars, busses, bikes, tuk-tuks, handcarts, donkey carts, and even camel carts. We dipped and swerved, only slowing down when the road was completely blocked - usually by cows or goats.

Our journey took us through several small villages. This area is known for the quality of its milk, which comes primarily from the buffalo rather than standard cows. Every house has least a few cows tethered by the front door, usually accomanied by a few goats or a donkey. Along the roads leading up to the villages, small children sell fruit from thrown-together tables. We stopped and bought a bag of something green, maybe guava, with salt and pepper. It was a strange taste sensation - sweet fruit with intense salt and pepper flavour, but very good.

Our stopping point was the town of Mandawa. Mandawa is known for its Havelis, or painted mansions. Our hotel was actually in a heritage building, with beautifully restored paintings on virtually every surface. The town itself is somewhat touristy and dusty, but did boast some pretty impressive painted buildings with rooftop views, and equally impresive puppies.

Back at the hotel, a couple put on a puppet show with traditional Rajasthani puppets. The husband worked the puppets, while his wife sang and played the drums. They had a display of simple puppets laid out for sale in front of the stage, but I was enchanted by the dancing elephant from the show and said so. Turns out he was for sale too, and after a little bit of haggling, I am now the proud owner of a yellow elephant with silver eyes.

Later that evening, as I was crossing the courtyard where the puppet stage was, the musician called me over. She was painting her nails, and insisted on painting mine too. She was very curious as to why I had been married for three years and still had no children. She herself has five, ranging in age from infant to teenager. Her husband's family had been puppeteers and puppet makers for five generations. He showed me a puppet that had been made by his great, great, great grandfather, and for which he had recently sewed new garments from special cloth. The musician played a little on her drum, an sang softly, and her husband showed how even the very old puppet could still dance. This puppet, he explained was not for sale. Many people had offered to buy it, but this one was his history, and he would not part with it for even 25,000 rupees. after a little more conversation in hand gestures and broken English, the musician pressed a Bhindi dot to my forehead and declared us sisters.

And so ends day 3 of India.