Desert Camels & City Streets

About a year ago, I watched an episode of my favorite adventure travel show Globetrekker about the world-famous Pushkar Camel Fair, where camel herders from around India come once a year to buy, sell, and trade camels. For me, it was one of two must-sees during my time in India (the other being the Taj Mahal, where I’ll be in a few weeks), so I made the trip over to Pushkar to check it out.

The first time I walked out onto the fairgrounds, I was totally blown away. Spread out into the distance, over sandy dunes thinly covered in spiky brush, were thousands upon thousands of groomed and decorated camels. Like wandering through an epic movie set, it was hard to believe that the whole thing was real. To make it even more movie-like, professional photographers and documentary filmmakers from all around the world weaved through the crowds.



Considering how many people and camels were camped out in the field the scene was strangely quiet, barring the bizarre screaming noise camels make, which sounds like a cross between a Wookie roaring and a baby crying. They’re not really wild about animal rights in the third world, and many of the camels were getting pretty seriously abused if they got out of line. Here’s a shot of some young herders laughing like crazy while they poked and prodded their poor screaming camel:



The fair’s main street area was buzzing with activity, and seemed to be more targeted toward the camel herders than it did toward foreign tourists. Brightly colored camel decorations hung from shop fronts alongside medieval-looking camel maintenance tools. Sketchy food stalls lined the small street, and snake charmers kept their cobras mesmerized as they poked their heads out of bamboo baskets. One snake charmer caught me off guard and heaved a snake basket up at me and the cobra inside lunged out at me and almost struck. Ha ha, not poisonous sir! Not poisonous! Ha ha ha ha. If he didn’t still have a cobra in his hand, I would have punched the guy in the face. Here’s some footage of the main street of the fair, with the snake charmer’s music in the background:



The actual town of Pushkar, about a fifteen minute walk from the fairgrounds, was a relaxing and wonderful place. With so many people coming into town for the fair, my hotel—a family-owned place strangely named Milkman—was packed to the gills. My room was hilarious: it was just a curtained-off area of the hotel’s rooftop restaurant which, despite the lack of privacy, had one huge advantage: free room service! All I’d have to do was stick my head around the corner of the curtain and order myself some cheap and delicious breakfast. A few minutes later, they’d bring the food right to my bed. It was delightful. I had a nice view from my bed too:



The awesome staff at Milkman organized an sunrise Camel ride through the fairgrounds, which I loved. My camel was absolutely nuts, and was the only one in the group that wanted to run everywhere we went, which made the ride genuinely exciting.

A few days after I got to town, the fair officially started. On the schedule were camel races, football and cricket games, camels and horses dancing, longest moustache competitions (!), and more. All the while, unofficial events took place around town like little kids perilously walking tightropes, folk musicians strumming guitars and singing, and street magicians captivating crowds of kids. The people watching at the fair was unparalleled — it was a bizarre mix of Japanese tourists with enormous cameras, stoned and barefoot saddhus, dreadlocked hippie Israelis, just-off-the-tour-bus Americans, camel herders in bright turbans, and green-eyed gypsies.




Unfortunately, the tooth pain that I talked about in my last update was only getting worse, so I had to miss out on some of the official events of the fair. After some serious internet research and advice from people on health message boards, I was left more confused about what to do than ever. Some said I had an abscess, some said I just had stuff stuck in my teeth, some said I needed a root canal, and some went so far as to declare that I had a neurological problem which could potentially lead to MS. On the night of Halloween, I decided enough was enough, and decided to head back to Delhi in search of a good western-trained dentist. Ten years earlier, I was gleefully dumping bags of candy on the floor examining the year’s loot, stuffing as many pieces of chocolate into my mouth as possible. And now, I was buying a ticket on a 10-hour bus on an emergency trip to the dentist. Sweet, sweet, irony.

Back in Delhi a few days later, my teeth were feeling much better by the time my appointment came with Dr. Kumar, a young American-born dentist who was trained in both India and the States. She did a thorough examination and didn’t see anything major wrong with my teeth — she thought that the pain might have stemmed from clenching my teeth at night, caused by high stress levels. Tomorrow I’m heading back to pick up my mouth-guards which I’ll have to wear at night. I know all of you sitting there at work reading this are thinking: High stress levels? You’ve been on vacation for 4 months! Apparently traveling in India is more stressful than I thought.

Since I’ve been stuck in Delhi for a little while, I’ve been trying to hit the sights that I missed the first time around. I visited the massive Red Fort, which formerly served as the throne for India’s maharajas before British rule, but is now a tourist attraction and central focus of India's annual independence celebration. The old spirit of the fort is kept alive by the armed guards who sit behind sandbags and have their guns pointed at you as you walk in.



I splurged on a guided tour, which was excellent despite my quirky elderly guide insisting on art directing my photos. No! Picture look bad from there! Come here sir. Here! Yes! Now take picture! Now! Better from here! I also visited the fort’s museum which was small but had a handful of really great expertly-letterpressed historic newspapers and letters during British rule and some stunning examples of calligraphy at its cultural high point. Outside the fort, I enjoyed wandering through Old Delhi, which is jam packed full of chaotic and overwhelming bazaars selling just about anything imaginable. The crowds are a little much for me in Old Delhi, but it’s definitely fun in small doses.



I’ve been hanging out quite a bit in New Delhi, which is more spread out, and more my speed. I went to the enormous India Gate, the country’s version of the Arc de Triomphe, where I chatted with a group of MBA students studying in Delhi for a little while. One of the girls—a super-hot girl, by the way—bashfully asked if she could get her picture taken with me. Because of India’s weird gender issues, it was the first time in more than a month in the country that a non-married female had said something to me. As we stood next to each other for the photo, I was feeling sassy so I threw my arm around her and pulled her close. The crowd of about 75 onlookers went absolutely bananas — people were laughing, hooting and hollering like they’d never seen anything like it. You’d get the same reaction from second graders in the States, not MBA students. Instantly, I was the king of India Gate. I was shaking everybody’s hand, taking dozens of photos, and being treated like a celebrity, just for being a white guy who put his arm around a girl for a photo. India is a strange and wonderful place.

The food scene in New Delhi is better than anywhere I’ve been since all the way back in Hong Kong, so I’ve been splurging almost every night on nice meals at classy restaurants. I’ve had some phenomenal Indian, Thai, Chinese and European dishes served in designer restaurants alongside Delhi’s young and hip.

It’s fascinating for me to see how Western and Eastern are coming together in new ways as the world becomes more and more globalized. At a not-so-classy meal at KFC (hey, give me a break, it’s delicious), I experienced my most globalized moment yet. In a European-style building built by the British colonists, I was served a spicy Chicken Tikka Wrap with a Pepsi by a multilingual employee. Next to me were a few Chinese tourists who headed to KFC eager for the tastes of home. On the stereo played the hot international single by Shakira (from Columbia) and Wyclef Jean (from Haiti). On the other side of me sat some ethnic Tibetans, and photos of Coloniel Sanders smiled down from the wall. The weirdest thing is that the unlikely cultural mix seemed, well, downright normal.

I’ve got a few more days in Delhi, then I’m headed West to Bikaner to continue my loop around Rajasthan. I’ll then make my way back East to Calcutta where I’ve got a flight booked to Thailand on November 29th. Thanks for reading another long post, and I hope you are all well.

Ryan!

Photos updated: Pushkar, Delhi