Rats, Rats Everywhere

Story has it that there is a white rat living among the thousands of ordinary brown ones. If you see it you will be lucky the rest of your life and anything you wish for in the temple will come true. Most of the Indian visitors I saw at the temple (and it wasn’t crowded) were sure to mention “white rat, lucky”.

I searched everywhere... all the little cubbies and crevices...

However, I left with the same luck I came with. Since I never considered myself unlucky to start with, I am not heart-broken - but it would have been nice to see it.

Destination... Rat Temple

Bikaner… not what I really imagined.

Yes, a city of 600,000 people in the middle of nowhere, but very, very not touristy. A small handful of restaurants dot the main street, one internet café, with one computer that we could find and not a lot else.

Why come here? About 20 miles away, in a town called Deshnoke, a nationally famous temple exists. From the time I heard about the Rat Temple (it does have a proper name too) I was obsessed. This temple is filled with tens of thousands of rats, and they are worshipped! I had to go there… and was well aware that the 6 hour train ride each way, followed by the 45 minute rickshaw drive did seem a little much. That’s the very definition of obsession. Besides, I was not the only one. When I met Rhys in Delhi, he was making for the same place… and so were the French couple we met on the train to Bikaner.

After convincing a rickshaw driver that four hundred rupees (less than $10) was a good price to have him ferry us to Deshnoke and also the National Center for Camel Research, we were off.

Did I mention that you have to take your shoes off to go into the temple? Or that the rats have no problem running right across your feet as you stand amid the food offerings, pee and rat poop? Minor details. I must be getting used to India, it’s filth and it’s charm, because this really didn’t bother me at all!

What an amazing place. Large bowls of milk, sweets and something that looks like birdseed dot the floor. Rats of various sizes scoot back and forth. The marble temple is one big rat house. Little holes are cut into the floor and walls accommodate them. But surprisingly, it doesn’t smell that bad. At least, not as bad as I thought it would. In fact I almost find them endearing… in a Rat-a-touille sort of way!

Going rogue - with Mr Bangali

Not in any way similar to Sarah Palin's adventures!

We arrived at the middle-of-nowhere, where our camels awaited us. Our camel guide, Mr Bangali, introduced me to Rocket, my camel. Rocket is huge, a lighter color and obviously has had a working class life. His face droops to the right and his immense lower lip hangs open …never quite able to close his mouth. My first thought was... Stroke? He appeared like a gentle soul though and there seemed absolutely no chance this camel would be endangering me with speed or antics.

Rhys was saddled with Robert. What a handsome camel! Younger, golden and spritely in nature, Robert was very quick to stand up when asked. In fact, perhaps a little too quick! Within hours a surprised Rhys had been dumped from Robert as he exuberantly jumped to his feet before Rhys was quite in the saddle!

Oh yeah! He was definitely going to have the last laugh...and the first too.

First Class Service

Mr Bangali, as it turned out, was a fantastic cook. Everything from scratch.

We rested under a large tree (not so easy to find) as he made us chai, then curried vegetables with rice and REALLY great chapati’s. The sun was hot and we were not going anywhere until about 3:30pm, when the tourists were less likely to die in the desert!

Laying on a camel blanket, my head protected by a very cool turban-like scarf, I pulled out my book and relaxed. Not a tooting horn or voice to be heard. The air was fresh, fresh, fresh. I was in heaven. How long had I waited to be warm, clean and quiet? Too long!

Moving on...

We continue on, making camp on some sand dunes and meeting a British couple, Tania and Matt, who were to join our safari for the next 2 nights. As the sun went down, the 4 of us sat atop a dune, drink in hand, toes buried, chatting lazily. And then … dinner was ready. Mr Bengali had help now. Another 2 men and a young boy of about 15 had joined the group. The had set up 4 little beds (blankets and pillows in the sand), cooked the meal and were now singing. The boys voice was absolutely beautiful… soulful desert folksongs always on his lips as he tended to the camels and generally made himself useful.

Our next day is a mix of camel riding, laying under a tree in the hot sun and eating. I have taken sooo many pictures and I’m not done yet! The desert, to me, seems like a magical place. From sunrise to sunset, it is warm with a slight breeze, quiet and very much deserted. At night, right now, there is a full moon or near enough so never gets pitch black. Our shadows dance across the dunes as we wander and explore after dark. Stars fill the sky and I am in good company.

Refilling the jerry cans. Yes the water was kinda murky, but it was only used for cooking. We had bottled water for drinking.

The well is one of many scattered across the desert. The villages are abandoned but if you have your own vessel and rope it is possible to help yourself to the water way down below.

Tania and Matt are 25 and from London. They have been dating for almost 9 years and really are like two little peas in a pod. Quite the little team, they know each other well yet still have what looks like a great appreciation for each other. They are a welcome addition to the group and the 4 of us get along great.

This little guy, one of so many, felt the need to meet us up close and personal.

This generally didn't both me, but I was acutely aware of all the beetle tracks in the sand around my bed the next morning - which is something I'd rather not think about!

Sunrise and Sunset in the Thar Desert

Taking Care Of Business

In the Thar desert, many kids never get the chance to attend school. From an early age instead, they shepherd goats and sheep. At about 12 years old, if lucky, they might find a safari operator to employ them. Mr Bangali explained to me that at that age, with no English language, the boy is paid about 500 rupees per month ($10) for his help with the camels and tourists. After about 2 years, having picked up substantial English (and other languages) from the tourists, the young man may find a camel owner to rent camels from and start his own safari business… getting about 1500 rupees per month from the safari operator in Jaisalmer to take their customers out. The goal at this point is to save up for their own camels. Each camel costs between 20,000 and 50,000 rupees. This is a huge sum for these people, but its not the end of the cost.

Right now this area of Jaisalmer and the Thar Desert is in drought. They have not had rain for 3 years and where once the desert was farmed, with plenty of food for the villagers and their animals, now the land is dry and mostly just sandy. Fewer people live here and memories of the monsoon time (July-August) are just that - memories. Life is extremely difficult. Yes, there are still wells… but they have to actually buy in food. Food for a single camel cost 200 rupees/day ($4 or a bit more). The camels HAVE to work with safaris in order to pay for themselves.

Mr Bangali is 24 years old. Not yet married, although I get the feeling his parents have started looking. Until recently he owned 3 camels - Rocket, Robert and Lalu. Unfortunately Lalu died suddenly a few months back. I can see hurt in his eyes. She was more than just a huge investment for him. She was his friend. He takes very good care of his camels, telling us that if you treat them right, not overwork them, feed then good food (not just desert bushes!) and water them without stressing them too much, they will live 25-27 years. Otherwise, not so long.

On day two in the desert we stop to water the camels. Using a simple pulley system, three men drag the rope attached to an inner-tube bucket, up from the well. Water spills down a chute and into the camel trough. Each camel can drink up to forty gallons!

A local point of view

A quick wander through the less than savory parts of Jaisalmer gave us a good glimpse into life everyday. Life that goes on, even in the middle of the annual Desert Festival.

l

Competing barbers chat side-by-side.

A blacksmith is hard at work, hammering out something useful with tried and trusted methods.

His young son, at age 3 is already following in Dad's footsteps.

And then there are the dogs... this baby flea-bag with his begging eyes, almost found himself in my backpack and en-route to a better life in the US!

Lost in Jaisalmer Fort, City of Sandstone

Jaisalmer is Jaisalmer because of the fort.

If Agra didn't have the Taj Mahal, nobody would visit, in the same way, if Jaisalmer lost it's Fort, tourism here would die. Or as one Indian man told me, the tourists would come for another year, to visit the ruins of the Jaisalmer Fort, then no more. He and his friends laughed out loud, but many a true thing is said in jest and I could see they truly understood their livelihood was tied to the Fort too.

And yet, every year they do lose a little more of the Fort. About 6000 people live inside its walls. They own stores and run hotels. The resulting water and run off is eating away at the sandstone and the Fort will one day no longer be.

For this reason, I chose to stay in a hotel outside of the Fort. But everyday I walked inside its walls, exploring the narrow alleys, marveling at the cows, dogs and people that make the Fort their home.

A good example of the delicate and intricate carved buildings that are typical here.

The view over Jaisalmer from high upon the Fort walls.

And at night, it glows over the marketplace outside it's walls.

Quite Literally Deserted

We paused briefly on our way to start the Camel Safari, to visit one of about 83 abandoned villages.

It is undergoing some restoration work by folk from another village and from time to time is borrowed as part of a movie set.

Kuldhara was once the home to a wealthy man, a trader on the silk route and the father of a very beautiful girl. The visiting Maharaja had eyes for her and a plan to make her his 5th wife. However, her family was several castes above that of the Maharaja and her father said no…resulting in, of course, much resentment from the Maharaja. He used his power to punish the businessman, affecting his business and that of another 82 villages in this desert area. The villagers all chose to move away, in support of (or perhaps out of reliance on) the businessman and his beautiful daughter. They went elsewhere to resume their lives and trades.

To this day these villages, for the most part, remain uninhabited… and in various states of disrepair.

Using the well water they mix mud and paints.

Me with my scarf tied by our guide, desert style!

It kept the sun off my face and staying in place all day.

The floor is a mixture of local dirt, cow dung and water. The women spread it by hand and when it dries they have a hard, durable floor for the houses.