India, Thar Desert

We are now in Jaiselmer on the edge of the Thar Desert in western India. The bus journey here seemed to be taking place in New Mexico. The road stretched out in front and behind us in a straight line from one horizon to the other. On either side of the road the small Mesquite trees could have come from anywhere in the southwest.

Every few minutes however we were reminded that we were in India. In the distance there would be cry like a banshee escaping from hell. The horn on our bus would then wail its reply. This ritual was repeated every time that two busses needed to establish who had the right of way on the one lane road. The larger bus and/or the one with the loudest horn would hold its course as the loser politely swerved out of the way. On the times when our bus swerved the women who were standing in the isle next to my seat would be forced to press their soft round bodies into me. Then as the bus swerved the other way they would fall into the other seat. This might not have been unpleasant were it not for the fact that after several hours it is easy to feel suffocated.

When were finally disgorged from the bus in Jaiselmer it was as if we had stepped back in time. The city has been constructed entirely of pale sandstone. The windows of the houses have been intricately carved out of the same stone as if each window were trying to out-do the next. The streets snake in and out of one another with the same logic that is found in a bowl of pasta. The city is dominated by a somewhat tired-looking fort perched on the only hill to be found for as far as the eye can see. We are staying in the Hotel Paradise, which is hidden inside this fort and over looks the city.

In the next few days we plan to take camels out into the desert for a chance to sleep on the sand under the full moon.