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‹ Previous (23/08/2008) MONTH Next (2008-10-22)› ‹ Previous (2009-08-29 - Nepal) COUNTRY Next (2009-09-19 - Pakistan)› India Amristar (see on map) 23/09/2008:
The first question that a salesman asked us exactly when crossing the border with India, was "you want beer"?. Evidently we had changed country and also culture. The Islamic prohibitions had finished and these were voluntary or economic, as in our case, but after checking different times the excessive price of a beer, it has not been until today in the afternoon that we have bought one to drink in the night, to the health of this tolerant country. In spite of the almost infinite internal and inter-religious conflicts that the country has suffered, he would say that India, is one of the most tolerant countries of the world, and proof of that is the crowd of religions and believers that show their identity symbols without that preventing them from living pacifically and in community. This religious tolerance remains reflected in Amritsar, at few kilometres of the border of Pakistan, with a hinduist majority that share space with the Sikhs, that consider the city its cultural centre and spiritual. In fact, the city was founded by the third Sikh guru in 1574, a century before the religion Sikh remained clear cut and established with the ninth and last Sikh guru, that perfected the base for the subsequent Sikh nation, dominating a big territory between 1716 up to 1849, when they lost the power in the hands of the British. During this period of power and prosperity in the city of Amristar was built one of the most beautiful temples of India and the most worshiped by the Sikh religion, the golden temple of Armitsar. As all the visitors of a Sikh temple, before entering in the golden temple, one has to take off the shoes, wash the feet and cover the hair (me with an orange handkerchief extracted from a chest at the door). We crossed the doorway of colonialist style and found each other at the top of some stairs in front of a square lake, in the centre of which there was the shining golden temple (covered with 750 kilogrammes of gold). The pilgrims Sikhs walked or rested in meditative state, the women covered with sari and the men wearing elegant turbans that hid the long hair, long beards and knives exalting the warlike past. The men and children were bathing in the waters of the sacred nectar (Amrit Sarovar), while the women bathed in an enclosed space; and the most fervent believers even drank the water, trusting that the force of the faith was more powerful than that of the microbes that they ingested. At all times spiritual music was listened, originating from singers and musicians inside the temple in the middle of the lake, where the faithful ones were crossing the bridge of the gurus and confined themselves hypnotised by the edges or reading in the second plant of the temple. So much fascinated us the mysticism that was breathed, that we returned at night, where we coincide with a great ceremony with the faithful ones listening, reciting and asking for God, for the Sikhs believe in a single God (Islamic influence), despite believing in the reincarnation (hinduist influence). In spite of everything, the Sikhs are not majority in Amritsar, and in fact, despite dominating a big nation during more than one century, their religion was always minor (10% Sikh, 10% Hindu and 80% Muslim). So, after the partition between Pakistan and India, the Muslims abandoned the city and along with Hindus both were converted in the major population, having two interesting temples that also we visited, the temple of Shri Durgiana (with a structure similar to the golden temple) and the temple of Mata, stuffed with statues and paints of different hinduist deities. The Hinduism is the oldest living religion of the world and also the most different, since for lack of only one spiritual leader who unifies all the beliefs and practices, these have kept diversifying in multiple traditions and ways of interpreting the religion, which in any case, some common beginnings keep maintaining. Despite having even 330 million deities (according to the writings), most of the hinduist believe in a single God, called Brahma, which can only demonstrate, be represented or be personified through the three main deities (Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva), which are incarnated in the many other hinduist Deities at the same time. So, according to the tradition, the veneration of any deity is considered the direct veneration of Brahaman, such a philosophy, opposed to the monotheistic religions. Anyway, such a devotion to statues of eccentric or comical forms, does not stop being - under an occidental vision - an infantile or extravagant religion, as it seemed to me when visiting today in the morning the temple of Mata, dedicated to a saint of the twentieth century and famous for procuring the desires for those women that want to remain pregnant. In this case, the women (and all the world that wants to share this religious gimcama) have to go over multiple passages, some of which they go for narrow grottoes or go by on small channels of water, but in general covered with mosaics of mirrors and escorted by different deities to which they make offerings of flowers and money. At noon, after visiting the temple of Mata, we have started to go towards another present religious important centre of India: the Tibetan Buddhism center. And while we avoided the constant dangers of these Asian roads, Alexandra has commented an interesting and a certain reflection: in Pakistan all the drivers want to be the first in the road (including wagons pulled of donkeys, bicycles, rickshaws,…), unlike India all the world circulates calmer but in the central part of the road (including wagons pulled by donkeys, bicycles, rickshaws,…), dangers of accidents occurring at all times that oblige you to use the horn. Mcleod Ganj (see on map) 25/09/2008:
Due to the adjusted budget that we have (because of the economic world crisis a magazine that paid me very well has stopped publishing), in Mcleod Ganj we had an unfortunate conflict, which we could on the other hand have avoided. Also contributed to the conflict was the fact that we got used to travelling so many months in Islamic countries, where rarely they tried to trick us, inviting us many times not to pay the parking places. However, in India we have found ourselves the first attempts to trick us and cheat us and our reaction in reaching Mcleod was on measure. The only parking place that there was at the entry of the village wanted to charge the double for spending the night and we, upset left the car until the night without paying, generating great tensions, with the owner of the parking place trying to deflate the wheels and Alexandra threatening him of breaking all his bones. It was an unfortunate conflict, because we could have parked a hundred meters more down (where we spent the night) and save us of the stress in this paradise of peace. Mcleod Ganj is a paradise of peace, because in spite of the crowd of tourists who visit this town of Dharamsala, in Mcleod Ganj is found the residence of Dalai Lama in exile, and the Buddhist atmosphere of the village invites to the contemplation and calmness of feelings and extreme emotions. The Dalai Lama is known because the spiritual and political figure is representative of Tibet occupied by China, but his history starts before, for the Dalai Lama has kept being reincarnated throughout the centuries, always having the same role and power. The first title of Dalai Lama was given in the sixteenth century, with the third Dalai Lama (the two first went to posthumous entitlement). With the help and monitoring of the Mongolians, the fifth Dalai Lama unified Tibet, but the power of the successive Dalai Lamas, provoked that none of the reincarnations between the eighth and the twelfth (included) survived the adult age, facilitating that its regents (possibly influenced by China) could govern with comfort. Anyway, the thirteenth Dalai Lama survived the crossing to the adult life and in 1912 declared the independence from China, deporting the Chinese and the imperial resident ones. But when the fourteenth Dalai LamaTenzin Gyatso (the present) only had 14 years, China invaded Tibet, being obliged to run away to India ten years later. Due to the current situation, the Dalai LamaTenzin Gyatso commented in a recent interview that maybe he would be the last reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, thinking that the decision of being reincarnated only depends on the Tibetan people, causing a great fury among the Tibetans. In any case, the decision of not being reincarnated can be one of the few options of avoiding that the occupying government of China chooses a similar successor Dalai Lama to its regional interests, in the same way that have already selected successors of important Lamas in the occupied Tibet. To the same day that we arrive, Alexandra met two Romanians, Ramona and Marcel, the last one of which was thinking to remain many years in India with the aim of being illuminated spiritually, for according to him, India is a country where you can find yourself, because you do not need money to live and you can have time to search and to meditate, without the society judging you for your acts, even if you develop your most irrational part. In any case, both had come to Mcleod Ganj to attend some talks of three days of the Dalai Lama, as many other tourists, crowd of monks (men and women, some of they with European physiognomy) that they walked for the village with red tunics and shaved heads, and also some Tibetans given refuge that dressed traditionally, the women with dark dresses covered with an apron of colours. The following day, while Ramona and Marcel attended the talks of the Dalai Lama, we visited a museum that explained the invasion of Tibet, the endurance, the destruction during the Chinese cultural revolution, the tortures and the exile (about 100.000 Tibetans have emigrated after the occupation). A Tibetan wrote in a mural: "we are a discriminated minority in our own country". After saddening for the photos and exposed information, I thought that these occupations and imperialist oppression have kept following one another throughout all the history of the humanity. And it is a pity, to think that just few of these go out to the public light, and that much other oppression continues in the darkness because they are not interesting politically. After the visit at the next museum in the main temple, which we could not access due to the talks, we did a hike, up to a library that contained a pretty museum with sculptures done with butter and mandalas done with sand, wood or thread, going down through a steep path. In another museum of Tibetan medicine, different medicinal plants and different old murals, some of which it described of where the children came, were exposed. Next we went up again the path on foot (the taxis wanted to charge too much for being tourists and preferred going up empty) and we diverted through a small road that surrounded the residence of the Dalai Lama, covered with different pilgrims that recited verses while they passed on the side of the numerous fanions of colours and rocks recorded with prayers, even under some temples that contained many grinders of prayers that the pilgrims made turn like recitation. And today at noon, that Alexandra and Ramona were lost all the morning for the touristic and traditional shops of Mcleod Ganj, we have started to go down the 2000 meters of height where we were found, another time towards the hot plains. Chandigarh (see on map) 28/09/2008:
Chandigarh, a modern city designed in the 1950s, does not seem to be in India, it is too much squared, tidy, clean and green, converting it in a good city to relax yourselt in the middle of a long journey, although we only stopped to visit the famous garden of the Rock and to meet a new friend. The garden of the rock is a marvel of the recycling. In 1958, an inspector of roads started to compile disposal material - broken ceramics, electrical cables, insulating, plastic... - to create an amalgam of fantastic sculptures. Fearing the ridicule, the inspector Nek Chand, established his study in a small hut in the forest, far from the suspicious looks of an embryonic city. Like this the routine of searches of material started during the day and the transformation of these in art under the light of tyres burning during the night. But in 1972, what was unavoidable happened, and the workers who cleaned the forest for the increasing city discovered the secret of Nek Chand, to whom the immediate destruction of its fantastic garden was communicated because he occupied a governmental ground. But the discovery thrilled the city, changing the opinion of the politicians, who finally ended up facilitating a salary and workers to Nek Chand so that he continued extend his surrealist garden. And this we have visited today, going over it among passages covered with recycled materials of every type and supervised by armies of different human, animal or eccentric figures. After the visit to the garden of the rock, we have met at noon a friend that we had gotten in touch through couchsurfing, Manu Kan, a man that had studied in Russia and who showed openly his friendliness for the communism, generating some ideological conflict with Alexandra, who detests the communism because she has suffered of it when small in Romania. In any case, Manu has talked to us about India, a country that has a socialist constitution, although since some years ago it is converting in liberal. The country also stops being secular and, on the contrary to the past, the parties stop being mixed religiously, only the Hindus starting to govern, creating conflicts among religions, which the government makes use of to apply reforms of market. As the recent bombs that have exploded in India, some terrorist attacks that will facilitate liberal reforms, the policies wanted by the government and the ones who – according to Manu - perhaps were behind the attacks. But maybe the things will change because, as he explained us, the workers of a factory in India had recently lynched their manager because he did not listen to their just demands. It is passing the same in all the world (except for the current Latin America) where the real rulers are the managers (CEO) of the big businesses and corporations, which only search own profit and for them does not import the social policies. Inevitably, the world will change and the average class will suffer more, and in the moment in which the American north average class is enough touched, a world revolution, tied up with the ecological problems and lack of raw materials, will take place. In any case, in spite of this possible future world revolution, Manu was not feeling optimistic and only thought about being able to survive, so much him as his daughter. Apart from ideological opinions, Manu also explained that - on the contrary to what I thought - in India there were not too many conflicts between Hindus and Muslims, but between Hindus and Christians, that, with the missions (specially catholic) search the conversion of the Indians and sometimes they rather obtain it in entire rural villages. On the other hand, the best schools in India are Christian, who try to clean the brain of the children to bring them to occidental values. For this reason, and also due to the bad political and economic situation of the country (about 700 million people in India live with less than 1 $ to the day, in a country of a billion of inhabitants), Hindus have started to be more aggressive religiously and nationally, starting to appear fascist or radical Hindus. Finally, I asked about the system of the castes, which are still very important in India, Manú, explaining that 90% of the marriages is among members of the same caste. And even if in many cases it is difficult to classify a person externally, the surname always ends up classifying your family. In the rural areas, the castes also play a strong role at the time of defining the work of a person. On the other hand, another awful tradition for the society is the duty that the fathers of girls are paying for her wedding and future maintenance, reason for which in India many girls (before appearing and even afterwards, including also the rich families) kill themselves or are killed. Manu commented us that he will have to pay a fortune to marry his daughter, although that when the day arrives, of here some years, possibly the proportion will be of 5 boys for every girl. And even if people arrive to these exaggerated proportions, he does not think that the things will change, because if he does not maintain the happy family of the son-in-law, with constant gifts, he would risk his daughter being ill-treated or even murdered. He will choose the best family for the daughter, considering the one that has to pay less money and where his daughter is happier or less ill-treated. On the other hand, even if many youngsters practice sex in the parks and are shown crazily enchanted, the weddings are always decided by the family and few decisions are challenged, because Manú ended up explaining crowd of histories that showed that the breaking of the traditions was paid with death. We would have remained another day enjoying the company of Manu and his stories, but we left with haste Chandigarh with the intention of reaching Delhi late-night and meet with David and Maria the day after. We thought that the roads would be emptier during the night, but was not too like this, because crowd of lorries started to circulate during the night. On the other hand, we also got a little lost when entering the enormous city of Delhi (almost 14 million inhabitants), arriving our planned parking place next to the calm park of Nerhú at 12 in the night. Delhi (see on map) 03/10/2008:
The first day in Delhi, we met with David and Maria, some hours before they took a train with south destination. Again we explained our recent history, the first experiences in India and the attempts at economic deceits, or about quarrelling. We comment on our impressions on India in general, where I as well as Maria and David had been about six or seven years ago. In general we comment that there is less poverty and that maybe India is more developed than Pakistan as for infrastructures. I also commented with David, on the quantity of attractive girls who were through the street, dressing with showy colours and carrying out unimaginable tasks in the previous Islamic countries, as that of driving motorcycles or bicycles. On the other hand, the crowd of women of middle age that dress saris, also surprised us leaving to the overdraft the voluminous and fallen bellies. However, there were not young girls who showed the belly, because it would probably be too daring for the infantile and passionate behaviour of the Indian boys. When saying goodbye to David and Maria we crossed more beggars, many of which were prepared to sleep in the street, and I reflected that in spite of the decrease of the poverty in Delhi, there was a lot more destitute people that in Pakistan, or other Islamic countries, where for religion the charity is obligatory (through organisations or delivering directly to the poor one). Taking into account these previous countries, it would seem that the charity is positive to eliminate the poverty, but according to the dilemma of the Samaritan, when one delivers money or food to the destitute to survive, but at the same time you encourage that he depends on the charity and he does not need to work, preventing him of going out of the vicious circle. That's why I think that it is better to give money to those ONGs that distribute the money better and, apart from feeding the belly; also they feed the brain helping the destitute ones to go out of the poverty. If it does not act like this, the result seems evident in the Muslim areas of India, where the beggars crowd together to receive charity to the faithful ones, or even they are mutilated (or the children) to receive more proportion of the delivered charity. I, personally, in the face of the dilemma of the Samaritan choose not to deliver charity, expecting to collaborate after the journey with some ONG, the same as i did before. In any case, my current cloakroom, is to deliver some coins to the poor people, when I take advantage of them making them a photo. The following day of these reflections and of finding with David and Maria, we started to visit the main points of interest of the city, some of which i had already visited and others not. The main places of interest in Delhi, are religious points of some of the main present religions in India, as a big hinduist temple dedicated to Lakshmi, the Goddess of the welfare; a temple Sikh where some musicians toned mystical music and a big pool where the faithful ones were purified; a modern temple of the faith Bahai, the same universalistic religion that I found in Israel; and different mosques and mausoleums, the most present monuments in Delhi, for the north of India went governed for more than four centuries by Muslims, thanks to successive invasions and massacres (in the case of Delhi different looted and annihilated the population. It is said that Delhi has had throughout its long history different sites up to 8, the first two cities built by Hindu kingdoms and at present disappeared, the five following built during the Muslim domination, and the last city, New Delhi, built during the British domination. Apart from visiting different bazaars the most important points of interest according to Alexandra, we also had time to change the two shock absorbers behind the autocaravan, which had started to lose liquid when completing the African roads. In any case, we will not stay too many days in Delhi, because we do not consider that it is a good city to relax and on the other hand we wanted to visit many different places in India and at the same time, we wanted to coincide for Christmas in the south of India with David and Maria and their parents and to spend together these dear holidays. Unfortunately, in spite of the haste that we had and the itinerary planned in zig-zag, we were conscious that India was unreachable and that we would lose many of its marvels. Agra (see on map) 04/10/2008:
On the way to Agra, where it is found the Taj Mahal, the icon of India, we stopped in Mathura, where the hinduist experts state that Krishna was born, in the year 3228BC (according to the writings and complicated astrological calculations), visiting first the next village of Vrindavan, where it is believed that Krishna grew hidden of the power of its uncle that wanted to kill him. Years later, Krishna killed his uncle, returning the power of the kingdom to his father and converting in an important adviser, big lover and divine hero. The hindu think that Krishna, represented almost always with the blue skin, is a reincarnation of the deity Vishnú, but the veneration that receives Krishna is such, that some hinduist state that Krishna is the same unique God, from which all the other deities have been reincarnated. When entering Vrindavan, we found crowds of posters announcing gurus (old and young) possibly leaders of different religious sects. In fact, the first visited temple, was the pretty temple of the International Society for the Conscience of Krishna, a sect known in west as the Hare Krishna. Inside they received me different faithfuls, many of them European and American and convinced that the recitation of the mantra "Hare Krishna" cleaned them the sins and that veneration of Krishna was the only path towards the enlightment. In any case, this sect would not differ from many other hinduist sects if it was not for the bad publicity that its expansion to west during the hippy period contributed and was seen as a brain washing organisation and due to different scandals of infantile sexual abuse. In any case, even if in Vrindavan and in Mathura there is infinity of hinduist temples, some of them dated with some century of antiquity, Mathura had been an important Buddhist centre, with 20 monasteries and 3000 monks. Since the year 500BC until the middle of the first millennium, the Buddhism was the dominant religion of India, questioning the writings and the system of castes, but, the Hinduism took force again with time, incorporating Budha in its pantheon of deities reincarnated of Vishnu. According to my very personal opinion, it is very strange that a more mystical or more introspective religion as the Buddhism is surpassed by another more primar religion, where the histories of gods (or illuminated) and the superstitions are more important than the individual work (through the meditation) of approach to the perfection. Possibly, the culture (or genetic) of the Indians keeps them attracted to beliefs that exalt their emotional and devout passions; or maybe the Hinduism is a religion that holds the masses more controlled and classified, being more useful for the rulers. 05/10/2008:
After having paid some 4€/person to enter in the fort of Delhi, the Indians only pay 25 cents of euro) and the same price through the marvelous Qutub Minar (a former minaret of 72 meters of height, we decide to try to get inside the Taj Mahal as national Indians, but naturally, at the entry we have not passed as Indians from the south of India (as i tried to explain them) and we have finished paying the entry of 12€/persona (the Indians pay equally 25 cents of euro). In any case, in spite of the expense, the Taj Mahal was an obligatory visit, when being the prettiest and most perfect construction of India and as was present in numerous lists of the 7 marvels of the world. It is said that the Taj Mahal is the most beautiful building built for love. In 1631 the dearest wife of the emperor Shah Jahan died, and such was the sorrow for the death of his third wife that waited for his fourteenth son, that his hair turned grey in a single night. So, with the heart devastated by the lack of his valuable woman, Shah Jahan decided to build the most beautiful ever built mausoleum, which ended thirteen years later. But the fatality of Shah Jahan did not finish here, in 1658, his son then dethroned him and closed him in a palace up to his death, moment in which he returned next to his darling, buried without too many honours under the Taj Mahal. Really we enjoyed ourselves with the visit of the Taj Mahal, walking for its gardens and marveling for the symmetries of the white mausoleum and of its adjacent mosques. Anyway, Alexandra passed some bad moments, for she was using for the first time a very sexy dress that she had bought in Delhi, and the requests of being photographed by Indian boys were multiplied by ten, and followed like this even if the torso with a veil was covered up by Alexandra and even if she answered them with no almost hysterical. At noon, after having visited during some hours the Taj Mahal, we run away of Agra and of all its crooks and of the special prices for tourists, and we started to go towards Rajastan, stopping mid-afternoon in Fatehpur Sikri, the ruins of the capital of the Mugal empire among the years 1571 and 1585, moment in which was neglected for shortage of water (also existing problem in those times). When arriving, we had to escape of different crowds of guides and of different guardians of parking which they wanted us to pay €. up to 6euro. Finally, Alexandra stayed in the car and I raised on foot the hill from the summit of which the ruins of different palaces and former homes were seen, an enclosed space of payment and a big mosque could be observed at the bottom of the free entry. Surprisingly, the big mosque jama Masjid was full of shops offering food and memories, and of Muslims camping in its grounds, for as they explained me, they were celebrating a holiday of a week at the end of Ramadan. Jaipur (see on map) 08/10/2008:
A hundred kilometres before reaching Jaipur another tyre burst behind, in the same circumstances that the wheel burst in Iran, circulating through a new and completely smooth road. Both wheels had been bought in Ethiopia, of the Chinese brand Goodride, and the weight that they probably held was more of which they could. So, it was a good way of buying two new tyres in Jaipur, in theory better than the original and most economic ones. With everything, in spite of this unexpected issue, we had sufficient time to walk through the city and its bazaars and to know its history. For more than 1000 years, Rajastan was dominated by the Rajputs, a group of warlike clans, originally of Hindu religion but some of them converted to the Islam, and with a code of honour similar to the gentlemen of the European medieval period, who preferred fighting among them before confronting common enemies, as it was the central power of the Mugals. In any case, the power of the Rajputs was increased with the decay of the Mugals, moment in which the mahara Jai Singh II decided to build a new city in the plains, leaving the fort of the mountains. The new city, called Jaipur, started to be built in 1727 designed from an old treaty of Hindu architecture, with blocks of rectangular buildings, big avenues and some powerful walls around. Years later, by the power of the Rajputs, momentarily more with the arrival of the British power, which they compromised the independence from its kingdoms. And a good proof of this excellent relation is the city of Jaipur, which changed its physiognomy in 1853, painting all its buildings of pink colour, as showing respect to the visit in the city of the prince of Wales. In any case, the relation with the British provoked the end of the maharajas, for these, instead of governing dedicated themselves to travelling around the world using up big resources and leaving the population of Rajastan with the worst cups of life expectancy and of education of India at the moment of the independence. At present, Jaipur is one of the most touristic cities of India, included in a triangle of gold together with Delhi and Agra, and is not strange of crossing in the street with different tourists who speak Spanish. At the same time, Jaipur is a city with an immense bazaar, occupying almost all the streets of the old city, with large areas dedicated to textiles and craftsmanship for where Alexandra got lost (followed by me) in search of bargains. In any case, even if we would have had dedicated a week going over all the bazaar, Alexandra would not have had sufficient time to satisfy her longings to mix up dresses and cloths. So, today in the afternoon I have obtained to move away from her madness and we have taken the car to visit some places of interest close to the city, as the palace of Jal Mahal, a lake and two castles in the mountains, from one of which a magnificent sight was enjoyed on the city of Jaipur, which extended through a big plain, convincing me of its 3 million inhabitants. Ajmer (see on map) 09/10/2008:
When reaching Ajmer at noon, we started an avenue through a park that was ending with a lake with some nice bordering pavilions of marble under which there were different families resting. From there, directing the look towards the melody of a distant music, we have discovered at about two hundreds metres in the edge of the lake, some stairs (ghats) that went into the lake and a colourful crowd of people that were celebrating some holiday. We have gone there, advancing some group of youngsters that danced the rhythm of drums and were throwing red and pink dust, and have arrived to the ghats where we have introduced ourselves among the festive crowd to contemplate as they threw offerings in the lake and different deities brought down the stairs introducing them in the water and leaving that these gulped them disappearing forever. The atmosphere was happy and mystical, and would be romantic if it were not for the long trail of plastics in the water, under which the gods rested, for the unconscious Indians, which threw the offerings of flowers with the included bags. We have asked to the nice people that did not stop of asking us photos (maybe too many) what they were celebrating, and with little English have managed to explain that they celebrated the holidays of Navratri, dedicated to the deity Durga, that bravely beheaded a terrible demon that threatened the humanity, the kindness prevailing once more on the wickedness. When one of the cards of photos has been finished and I have realised that the other one was in the car, we have returned, and I have went to another scenario, while Alexandra waited for me at home. On the way towards the mosque of Dargah, that contains the tomb of a sufí saint worshiped by hundreds of Muslim pilgrims that come of all India, I have crossed a bazaar where they sold Islamic products. Pulled in the street there were different invalids asking for charity and among these pigs, quite present in India although they are almost never included in the menus of the restaurants (perhaps they have them only as an insult to the Muslims). After letting the bag in a ticket window, pass for a detector of metal and got registered, I have entered the big mausoleum mosque, where the festive atmosphere was very different to that of the tidy mausoleums of Iran. The marble was dirty, there were strings of colours hanged from doors and windows, and in the ground there were remains of burned incense and flowers of offerings, which were sold in different shops. The women dressing colorful and the men with the covered head folded, walked or listened to a group that sang to the rhythm of a drum and a small organ. Entering for a small door, I have been in the crowded mausoleum where tens of pilgrims entered offerings flowers. The flowers that were thrown out on the tomb and fell on the ground to be crushed by hundreds of feet were so many that for the first time on many days I have felt a smell (I do normally not smell anything), of roses. When going out from the mosque I have found another surprise. The entry was much more guarded of policemen than when I have entered and in front there were different carriages pulled by cows or horses loading boys disguised of Hindu gods or mythological characters. The carriages were surrounded by different bands of music with a very strident organ connected in some powerful loudspeakers that made rattle the foundations of the mosque. Seemed exactly a provocation, in spite of that well studied, because for about ten seconds, the music has stopped so that the song of the muezzin of the mosque could be listened to, for afterwards to continue with force. The procession has been started off, and I, also observing in front of the carriages, dances with swords that a demon with black face and tongue took in part hanging a collar of cut heads. When arriving to the autocaravan, we have started off towards the next town of Pushkar, stopping on the way another time in the ghats, where I have lowered to make other photos to the happy youngsters that led to bathe its gods. Naturally, in the end I have remained completely covered of red dust (including the camera), when in an attack of hysteria a crowd of boys has surrounded me throwing me the paint until I have screamed hysterical "stop!." Bikaner (see on map) 12/10/2008:
Alexandra kept walking alone through the bazaar of Pushkar passing as Iranian in order to obtain the best prices, exclaiming "in Iran this product is more economic and it comes from India". Meanwhile, I dedicated the morning to discover the ghats of Pushkar that surrounded a small lake, where some priests appeared reticent to let me walk while i observed how the faithful ones threw offerings and they bathed and purified, men as well as women. However, other priests were shown more receptive to the tourists, inviting them to do offerings while they made you to repeat a mantra that i ended up saying "I will deliver to the priest 3 $ for my happiness and to that of the entire world". I, had naturally warned him that i did not have money to deliver and as he demanded from me something, I told him that i deliver many good wishes for him. Also although there were other calmer priests and who did not look for any direct bonus, as the one that explained to me the history of Pushkar, name that means "from a flower". The legend explains that Pushkar and its sacred lake were created from a flower of lotus that Brahma (the creative god of the universe) let fall. After the creation of the lake, Brahma decided to dedicate five days of penitence to accumulate good Karma, but on the contrary to the tradition, his woman Savitri (deity of the learning) did not want to attend, Brahma choosing to marry another woman during her absence. Understandably annoyed, Savitri cursed him so that Brahma was not adored in any other place separately from Pushkar, motif for which Pushkar is one of the few places of the world where there is a temple dedicated to Brahma. In any case, because of the absence of Savitri, Brahma also cursed her so that her temple in the summit of a hill did not have access to the sacred water of the lake. This way, in order to be able to be adored, every day a priest raises water originaly from the lake. In any case, continuing with the legend, after these five days of penitence, Brahma accumulated sufficient good karma to be able to create the universe, thanks to which we owe our existence. After visiting the temple of Brahma, I met Alexandra that loaded a bag full of dresses and blouses each bought with less than 50 cents of euro, and we started to do path towards Bikaner. Half the road we lost more time in some village trying to buy some gas cylinders, for it did not seem that in India i could recharge mine bought in South Africa. But the price that they offered me for a bottle of butane was exaggerated, and annoyed by the continuous attempts to be tricked we left without buying the cylinder, starting to project the turning off of the fridge to have sufficient gas to keep cooking. In any case, the day after in the morning we left the problem of the gas on the side and we stopped at the temple Karni Mata, known as the temple of the rats. Naturally Alexandra stayed in the car and I directed myself to the temple, which had evident signs of some recent Hindu celebration, with different shutdowns around that were being dismantled and tons of grain accumulated in the entries. On the other hand, in the interior, the rats seemed dead of so much holiday and did not react to the pilgrims that still arrived and threw them sugar lumps or biscuits. In fact, most of the rats were hiding in the numerous holes that there were in the walls, in some holes there were 5 or 6 rats sleeping with the heads inside and the bodies outside. Probably because of that, some of the rats that there were strolling through the temple were the ones most unfortunate, with the emaciated bodies or with the eaten eyes. These rats, together with the shit extended through the ground (for where it had to be walked barefoot), were not a very nice show, even if the legend of the temple had its interest. In the 14th century, Karni Mata, an incarnation of the deity Durga asked Yama, the deity of the death, to restore the life of the son of a helpless story-teller. But Yama refused and annoyed by Karni Mata, reincarnated all the dead story-tellers in, in order to deprive Yama of the human souls (poor life that of the story-tellers). After returning to the car and of cleaning well my feet, we finish the few kilometres up to Bikaner, where we repeated the attempt to buy a cylinder of butane. They directed us to an address, but to arrive we had to ask multiple times, many of which orientating us in wrong direction (this behaviour I also observed it among Indians, prefer answering anything before saying I do not know ). In any case, we in the end arrived to a distributor of gas that did not want to sell a cylinder and he wanted to sell me another one smaller to a still more excessive price. Irritated, I said that with these attempts to trick the tourists they were accumulating very bad karma, or that in Iran or Pakistan people were better than in India because there they had never tricked us (that last seemed to bother them more). Already annoyed we returned to the main street, although I decided to do a last trial when observing a lorry where they loaded cylinders of butane. There they offered me a more reasonable price for a cylinder, but, I had at the same time the luck of a man, who for the first time in India seemed ready to help us uninterestedly and to find a solution to our problem. Binod (like this was called the man) commented me that we would manage to recharge one cylinder, so, I took one and put in on his motorcycle to go to a point of refill, afterwards to another with the autocaravan, and finally another where finally we could recharge the blue cylinders of campingaz for which I got a fair price. Really Binod behaved marvelously, finishing rounding its kindness off inviting us to tea and biscuits in his home, where there was his woman and two children. There, Binod asked us if we had gotten married for love and we answered that yes, but they commented that their marriage was fixed, as all in India, although at present they are in love a lot. In similar words another woman in India had expressed herself, explaining to us that in her country, you first get married, you get disappointed afterwards of your new couple, and you finally start to feel love. I commented that in Europe, you first start to feel love, afterwards get married , finally you get disappointed ; the woman laughed and exclaimed "for sure" while she extended the hand. With all the time wasted searching for gas, only yesterday we had time to visit the magnificent palace of Junagarh, where we discovered the opulence with which the maharajàs lived. At night we camped next to Devi Kund, the pretty cemetery of small domes and mausoleums where the family of the old Maharajàs is still buried. And today in the morning we have finish to visit Bikaner going through the old town with a rickshaw up to the splendid Jain temple Bhandasar. The temple of Bhandasar is very simple outside, however, its interior is exquisitely decorated with paints and some sculptures. A very nice monk explained us that the jainists think that the beauty is in the interior of the beings and not in the exterior, being represented in the same way in the temples. On the other hand, the man also explained that when the temple was built in the fifteenth century, they used 40.000 kg of butter in the foundations (strange and incredible, but true) during the summer even it greases and dirties the ground and provokes that the temperatures in the temple are unbearable (was not too good idea about using the butter). After being a good while connected to Internet, to average we have started to go late towards Jaisalmer. When darkening, we have camped - for the first time in India - without asking in a wasteland place and uninhabited, similar to an arid savannah. But about 10 in the night, when i had just edited photos, a motorcycle has approached. Warned we have turned the computers off and I have opened the window asking who they were. But the man and the boy of the motorcycle did not speak anything of English and with brusque and aggressive gestures they required that i went out from the car. Besides, when I have asked them exalted if they were from the police, they have started to call towards other voices that seemed to approach. Meanwhile, i had already started off the engine of the car and illuminated them with the lights, annoying them even more, for they were in front of the car preventing me from crossing. But I did not want to remain not to know the plot nor the outcome of this possible nightmare, and have thrown the car ahead with intention of knocking the motorcycle down and the man if they did not move away. But they went on the side and immediately after have i tightened the accelerator in depth, jumping the sand, plants and rocks until i arrived to the asphalted road, where we have lost of sight the motorcycle that had been following us some moments. We have driven some kilometres with the things jumping inside the autocaravan. Afterwards we have stopped some seconds to dress and to order the not fixed objects of the autocaravan and continued about thirty kilometres, stopped in a gas station, where we have spent the rest of the night; sleeping while we listened in dreams to the proofs of fire that the Indian army made near the border with Pakistan. Jaisalmer (see on map) 15/10/2008:
David and Maria had told us that we would love Jaisalmer, and we really loved it. The city and its fort were founded in 1156, in a strategic situation, dominating the routes of camels that traded between India and Asia central. During a long period of prosperity, in which wars against other rajputs kingdoms were not lacking, some traders and sites of Jaisalmer homes and mansions (called havelis) were built exquisitely decorated exteriorly with stone of sculpted sand. In spite of everything, the wealth of Jaisalmer declined quickly as the sea trade carried out across the port of Mumbai (Bombay) was increased. But the fortune returned to the city, prospering another time, as the channel of Indira Gandhi that takes water crossing all the desert of Thar (the same desert of Cholistan of Pakistan) up to Jaisalmer was finished; also, as the strategic position of the city is confirmed in the eternal conflict between India and Pakistan; but especially with the arrival of the tourists, who have made bloom trades everywhere. The three days in Jaisalmer are destinated to all the shops of the old town in search of fabric to do a new change of aesthetics for the autocaravan, an idea that was roaming in my head since the exterior decoration in Pakistan. It is Already two years and a half that the selfcaravan is our home, and if everything goes well, will keep being another two, so,we had decided that any inversion that did it more comfortable or prettier would be welcomed. And in Jaisalmer we did another step and changed the curtains of the autocaravan. We already looked many options at and the final decision was to buy cushion covers of different colours and full of mirrors to dismantle them and to join them again (we payed a tailor) to form new original and pretty (according to our taste) curtains. In any case, between trade and trade, we also had time to visit the city, which preserves a relaxed atmosphere, in spite of the numerous tourists and of impatient vendors. We visited the façades of different havelis, some of them still inhabited, others converted into shops and the rest in museums. Getting on different times to the immense fort, visible from all the city, where the streets are narrow and we had to keep avoiding cows, tourists and vendors, while we were surrounded with pretty buildings and temples. Among these I visited a magnificent jainist temple, again, very simple in the exterior and marvelously worked in the interior, with sculpted columns with semi-gods, walls representing sensual feminine and masculine figures, and different sculptures of jinas or tirthankaras in a state of meditation, the 24 jainist teachers that discovered and showed the path of the salvation about 3000 years ago. One of the main principles of jainism is the non violence, which implies the respect for every living creatures. So, the mouth and the nose are covered up with clothes not to inhale accidentally any insect, a behaviour that I observed surprised in a monk of this temple,apart from being strict vegetarians. Finally, today in the afternoon we have visited what seemed another point of interest of the city and its surroundings, the dunes of sand in Sam, but the show that we have found was surprisingly grotesque.When we arrived close to the dunes, we have found hundreds of camels (I do not exaggerate) sitting and waiting for the buses of tourists that afterwards we have crossed. In the surroundings of the dunes there were tens of camps with tens of shops each. So alone we have lowered of the car, tens of men and boys have called continuously to sell us camel rides or a stay in a camp with food and included show. I have walked briefly around and inside the dunes, which were completely trod on by camels, people and everything. But when the tenth guide screamed for me from a hundred meters to sell me something, i have decided that this desert was the antithesis of the calmness and romanticism and have returned to the car, where Alexandra was trying to keep other tens of guides and sales man far from the autocaravan; we have gone up, and ran back towards Jaisalmer. Udaipur (see on map) 19/10/2008:
The following visited city was Jodhpur, also called the blue city, that has the most impressive fort of Rajasthan, dominating the plains from a hill. Knowing that the main point of interest of Jodhpur, is the fort of Meherangarh, we threaded a small road that at first crossed some bazaars, and we arrived to the entry of the fort, where we could pass the night with calmness. The day after, I woke up early, before the sunrise and I went out to make some photographs, surrounding the pretty mausoleum Jaswant Thada, of white marble. When i returned, already satisfied with the magnificent sights, I was about to wake up Alexandra to leave towards the following destination, for the entry in the fort of Meherangarh was too expensive for the tourists (for the Indians it is always very economic). For luck, before going up to the car an Austrian approached me and, after showing interest on our journey, he told me that we could enter the fort freely, as long as we did not enter the palaces converted into museum. So, when Alexandra woke up, we visited the firm fort, which did ever not have to hold any siege thanks to the alliance of the clan rajput with the Mugals of the north of India, which left that Jodhpur prospered benefited by the commercial routes that crossed it. On the fort, we visited some interesting Hindu temples, but we especially enjoy the impressive sights, which dominated the city of Jodhpur, which seemed to be suffering from a marvelous spell through the numerous homes painted in blue. Traditionally, the blue colour identified the home of a Brahmin, one of the highest castes of India, dedicated to the study, teaching and sermon; anyway, the homes of blue are also at present painted by the members of other castes. In the afternoon, after having visited the pretty gardens of Mandore, in the north of Jodhpur, we started to make road towards Udaipur. But an hour before sunset, different truck drivers and some area of service, informed us about the road that we followed as not being good, then further on being bandits and as we understood, the road not being in too good state either. So, we moved back about thirty kilometres and the day after (yesterday) we started to circulate for a road that first drove us up to the marvelous temple of Ranakpur. When arriving, the big temple of Ranakpur was opened only for the believers, therefore, we dedicate the while up to the opening visiting some other small jainist temples, also impressive for the numerous reliefs of princes and sensual consorts in the exterior of the temples. But incredibly when to enter later to the temple of Ranakpur, this entity made forget any other marvel observed beforehand. The temple of Ranakpur, dedicated itself to Adinath, the first of the 24 tirthankaras or Jainist saints, is one of the biggest and most important temples of this religion. Built in the 15th century, with white marble, it contains different rooms supported by a forest of 1444 pillars, each different to the other ones in forms and reliefs and sculpted figures. Personally, it did not seem to me that there were as many columns as the ones mentioned, anyway, there is a legend that says that all the pillars cannot be counted. Of what there is no doubt, it is the fascination that produces the temple, which some suggest as one of the seven marvels of the world. Showing more interest for the jainism, I discovered surprised that the Jainist do not believe in the existence of God, creator and maintainer of the universe, however if they believe in a universe governed by natural laws and eternal, which passes for successive cycles of creation and destruction. In a more pragmatic level, the jainist practice the total non violence, which makes them deny foods obtained with unnecessary cruelty, like this for, apart from not eating animals, many of them do not eat roots of plants (potatoes, garlic, onion) because as they take out the plant from the ground many insects and animals that live in the earth are killed. Naturally, to be able to enter in the temple I had to leave my skin belt in the car, although ironically, in the interior of the temple I discovered a couple of drums made of skin of camel. When going out from the temple in an almost mystical state, we immediately returned to the worldly level when realising that during our absence, some Indians had extracted three or four adhesives of the car . Alexandra was a wild animal and I, even if I appeared more soothed, did not stop being annoyed with the Indians, who have a culture that I do not quite understand. For example, it is completely surprising, that every day there is somebody (especially adult people and many of them middle class) that they try to open the door of the autocaravan. Many times we surprise them and when questioning them on their attitude they ignore us, as if they had not made anything bad. However, naturally, what bothers us more is that children and youngsters (and some adults also) try to pull out the adhesives planted in Pakistan. It is not strange that Alexandra has nightmares in which she kills Indins(and also Muslim Indians). The truth is that I do not understand their behaviour, nor when this is positive, for example somebody left us some days ago 10 rupiahs (0,13 €) in the window, probably as a sign of blessing. With the sun gone, we reached Udaipur, a romantic city that i already had visited during my previous journey to India. In spite of everything, our arrival was stressful, for despite being a pretty city growing about some lakes, Udaipur is a terrible city to enter with autocaravan and especially to find parking place during the night. Normally, in the cities we park in the area of the hotels of luxury, but in Udaipur, these hotels are around the lake (or in the centre of the lake) in an area of impossible access for the autocaravan. So, we started to search and to search, until throwing reverse gear in a dark alley without exit I crashed against a parked motorcycle. At first Alexandra exclaimed scared: "you have killed somebody"! and i went out shot to look behind. A family of a home in front also went out complaining for the fallen motorcycle, but when they proved that the motorcycle did not have any problem and however I did have all the bumper fallen (it does seem funny but it is true)they calmed down. Then they asked us where we went, and as we answered simply that we are looking for some place to park, this family showed us the first indication of hospitality since days and let us park on their street (a family had thrown us out half an hour before from their street where there were other cars parked). Today, we have moved the autocaravan a little more to the centre and have gone to walk towards the lake Pichola and the City Palace, but on the contrary to my previous visit, the city has disappointed me, and Alexandra also. The lake was dirty, the sun came in front (that also contributes), many trades were closed (it was Sunday), we have eaten in a mediocre restaurant... Our feelings, probably, would be very different if we had found a calm place near the lake for the autocaravan, but without desires of giving a second opportunity to Udaipur, we nullifyed the plans of relaxing for three days and left towards the following city. Bundi (see on map) 22/10/2008:
Even if Chittorgarh remains out of the touristic circuits, this fabulous fort well deserves a visit, and likewise consider it tens local tourists that every day go over to the fort of Chittorgarh with rickshaw. We had the luck of the elephants being able to have measures similar to the autocaravan, because we could pass very exactly for all the doors of the fort, saving ourselves like this to do a long hike or to stress out negotiating the visit with rickshaw. The fort, occupying a big area on a hill, preserves different palaces, monuments and temples. Above all, it stands out of spectacular tower of the victory, built in the fifteenth century and raising 37 meters, being possible to climb up to the eighth floor through some labyrinth stairs. In spite of everything, the history of Chittorgarh is not too victorious, and like this remains reflected in numerous Indian songs in which rajputs of the fort relate the three jauhares or suicides in mass of the women and the men with romanticism, before falling defeated by the enemy. The first jauhar, that influenced other jauhares happened later in other cities of the Rajasthan, succeeded in 1303, when the sultan of Delhi in front of a powerful army attacked Chittorgarh, with the goal (like this accounts the legend) of taking the beautiful wife of the king rajput. But that happened, and foreseeing the imminent defeat the king and the rajput army were dressed in saffron colour lothes, and they were thrown to fight against the enemy to a safe death, while the queen and the women of the court instigated a great pyre where they were thrown alive avoiding like this of being dishonoured by the sultan of Delhi. On the contrary to some legends, not all the population of Chittorgarh died, a couple of centuries later, in 1535 and in 1568, the rajputs of Chittorgarh had occasion of carrying out another two jauhares before falling in the hands of two other powerful enemies. It is said that the second jahuar was carried out by 13000 women and 32000 rajputs warriors, and the third for about 8000 warriors, some numbers maybe a little bigger, but in any case terrifying, even if one or two zeros of the numbers are taken. Among the different temples visited in Chittorgarh, there was one jainist situated in front the tower of the fame (built by a jainist merchant). In this temple it stood out, in some sculptures as well as in different photographs of its interior, different teachers or completely naked monks, for according to the jainist sect Digambar, the only path towards the lighting is the uprooting of anything material, even the clothes. So, according to this tradition, only the men can obtain the lighting, for the women are not allowed to transpire from the clothes, because they would probably obstruct the lighting of the men. When going out of Chittorgarh we were asking many people about the best path to reach Bundi, David and Maria had then explained us that a month ago they had done the same tour and the road was terrible, covering about 200 kilometres in 6 hours. Finally we convinced ourselves of the information that the Indians gave us as being correct and that there was a new road open for the first time exactly one week ago. And like this it was, only although it could be circulated through two of the four lanes that were built, we had to keep confronting ourselves with madness of the road, as the driving of some Indians (especially drivers of lorries and buses) seems suicidal, as if they did not have respect for their own life nor that of the others. India is one of the most dangerous countries for driving, where the possibility to have an accident depends more on the other ones than on oneself. On the sides of the roads there are many lorries with evident signs of having been startling frontally, for they without being important to them that vehicles come in contrary direction. On the other hand, we have to keep avoiding at all times sacred cows that they consider the asphalt more comfortable than the lawn and people, who think to be walking in their garden. The truth is that I do not understand the way of being Indian and the risks that take, for example some days ago we saw a bus going to 90 km/hr through a road, and suddenly, a man goes out for a lateral window, and doing balances is gone up above of the bus together with the luggage. Maybe, believing in the reincarnation they do not give value to the life so much? Then, Would this be a proof that the Christian and Muslim do not believe with the same faith in the paradise? (*) The day after before midday we arrived to Bundi, another marvelous fort and palace, dominating a small and nice village. In spite of everything, until we did not find a calm parking place in a police station, we thought that we would not enjoy anything of the village, the same as it had happened in Udaipur. Afterwards we went to eat in a restaurant (a quite economic one for India), as we finished we go towards the big palace, where we visit the palace of the women (those of the men were with payment) that were painted formidably, we next walked a little through the bazaar, and we finally returned to the autocaravan, where we relaxed with the approval of the guardian of the police. But at 9 in the night, another man who opened the shutter of the car without any contemplation came and he told us that we had to leave. I became angry with the little Indian hospitality and with the police who were so little helpful (not even so much alone wanted to suggest where to park), but we did not have more remedy but to collect again the things and to park at a hundred meters distance of the police station, in front of a pretty lake that refracted the palace and the illuminated walls. On the following day, today well early in the morning, I have gone out to walk for the side of the palace up to the summit of the mountain, where there was a line of walls and some forgotten palaces. As in many other forts of the Rajasthan, I have observed once in the summit of the mountain big pools or deposits that accumulated greenish water. This proof of the quantity of rain that falls during the monsoons, which are capable of accumulating in a basin provide water for all the year. When returning, we have started to do path towards Gwalior, the following destination, going in the same way that the previous day, a motorway in construction. But this time, on two occasions, the motorway crossed a river for a sky-high bridge, in whose beginning there was a point of toll done with four woods. They have announced to the first toll that we had to pay the equivalent to about 10 euros, and I, laughed at them and told them that without ticket i would not pay anything,i have kept advancing until I crossed the barrier. But in the second toll, the boys seemed more serious, but also more exalted. They have reported us that we had to pay one euro through the toll, the same cost that a bus. Then we have initiated the same discussion as in all the tolls of India (are quite frequent and in any point): that our autocaravan did not have the category of lorry or bus and that simply was a van (which, normally pays less than one third that the previous ones). But in this toll, the boys did not seem to follow any discipline and their aggressiveness has made me think that if i did not pay i would have problems. But as the barrier was lowered, the other lorries in contrary direction could not pass, so, when they have raised it momentarily to leave to pass a lorry, I have started pushing but the men aside started to hit the autocaravan with violence. We have escaped but we were completely exalted. Were all those nerves only for a euro worth? Probably not, but on the other hand, if we accepted all the cheating attempts, neither we could do the journey, for lack of budget. In any case, we are getting used to these frequent phases of tension and after little I am already capable of relaxing my mind again and of enjoying the present. Proof of that is the dream of tonight, in which some wild animals (representing the Indians or my exaltation) wanted to attack me, but with patience and cold blood, finally i tamed them. (*) Days later I read in an international journal that, according to official data, 10% of the fatal accidents of traffic in the planet happen in India. In 2006, there were more than 460.000 accidents (four accidents every five minutes), in those more than 100.000 people died,and about 500.000 people who were severely wounded. ‹ Previous (23/08/2008) MONTH Next (2008-10-22)› ‹ Previous (2009-08-29 - Nepal) COUNTRY Next (2009-09-19 - Pakistan)› |
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