Camels, The Great Thar Desert, and Starry Nights  
Jaisalmer
  While in Jaisalmer, this sand castle of a desert city, I decide to go on a one week camel trek in the Great Thar Desert. I want to do it alone with my guide and our two camels because the solitude calls me, we tend to be good friends. Most commonly here it is done with other travelers and that would have some advantages too but I opt for solitude.

It is arranged and I am driven about 30 k farther out into the desert toward Pakistan to met my guide, our two camels and supplies, at the village of Catrael. There I meet Salim, my 22 year old guide. He is totally illiterate and can not read or write in any language. I immediately like him, his warm welcoming smile and feel a good connection for which I am quite thankful. A week in the desert is a long time if you don't hit it off well with your guide. Salim does speak passable English but I discover as time goies on that he is not able to understand and respond to any question beyond rather basic informational inquiries.

I meet my camel Salu and Salim's camel Michael. Both are lying down while they are being loaded, and I walk around Salu, talk to him, scratch his neck and ears, being careful not to get bitten suddenly. Not being acquainted with camels, I'm not quite sure how Salu might react to this stranger. But I have some recollection from somewhere that these creatures have the capacity to use their teeth. Looking at these teeth, they impress me as having the ability to make an impression, and are badly in need of dental work, brushing and flossing. Actually, I brought some floss along but I don't think I will go there! Nevertheless, he is docile enough and holds his head up with an air of aloofness as though to say I'm not really that important, he will agree to tolerate me and remain in his own world!

The camels being loaded with enough food and mineral water to last for a week, I'm told to go ahead and get on. Well, ok. There is a saddle of sorts were I sit right in front of the single hump. The saddle also extends around back of the hump to which some of the supplies are secured. There are no stirrups so hang loose! Salim has put a soft double blanket on it to make it more comfortable on my lovely tender ass! I do manage to get on and hang on to a 'horn' located in the front of the saddle in preparation for Kalu to get up, hoping I won't gracefully or otherwise catapult headlong over the front of Kalu. He gets up on his back feet first and then his front feet. I manage to survive and we all take off across the desert. As I said these saddles have no stirrups so my feet are dangling and it becomes a balancing act. I can see I'm going to have to figure out how best to do this. My tendency is to squeeze my knees together to maintain some stability but I know this will make for some very sore thighs so I experiment and discover that I just have to relax and flow with the movements of Kalu and not resist. It takes a little to get the hang of it but it seems to work. I've been told that the 'pain' goes away on about the third day.

As we move on out farther into the Great Thar, I can see it is not one rolling sand dune after another, but scattered scrub and small thorn trees as far as the eye can see. The sun is hot but there is a nice breeze, and the air is dry. We ride till noon and stop for lunch. Salim takes the saddles and supplies off Salu and Michael, puts a short tether between the front and back legs and turns them loose to graze.

We find a clump of bushes and a thorn tree large enough to provide some shade and that is where we have our lunch of chapatis and vegetable chutney. There is enough green scrub in this part of the desert that with a little rain it can sustain herds of sheep, goats, cattle and camels. While we sit here with Salim cooking, a couple sheep herders come through. One is a young boy who sits and chats for a while, sees the opportunity for some lunch and then moves on to catch up with his sheep. Another boy, about 10, comes by driving his cattle. He stops and sits with us for about an hour. His cattle are soon long gone out of sight. He doesn't seem the least bit concerned. I imagine he knows this desert well enough to know where he'll find them, or the cattle know the desert well enough to know where home is. He sits here watching me. No common language. He and Salim speak once in awhile. I take some photos of him and show them on my digital camera. He smiles. In the days ahead I will discover how cool this camera is as a form of communication and connection with people with whom I have no common language. Eventually he moves on. Later a small herd of cattle come by. A lone cow wonders over to us, stops in front of us, very impolitely and thoughtlessly takes a shit and leaves! Same to ya!

I'm rather fascinated watching Salim do the meal preparation. He gathers up some dry pieces of wood from the little thorn trees which light very easily, takes out some metal/tin pots and pans and whips up a tasty, delicous meal. Washing up the pots and pans is another experience. He brought along some local water, pours a bit in each dish, takes sand, scrubs it until it is dry, shining and spotless. The cooking pots become black on the bottom and up the sides as a result of the fire but with the sand, water, a little extra scrubbing, it comes right off and shines! I am truly amazed.

Each day we take a break from riding between noon and about 3 or 3:30 - the hottest part of the day. As the sun moves, we move with the shade of the bush. Salim always puts a blanket down for us. So now I lie here , doze off, listen to the wind and the sounds of bells tinkling in the distance and the voice of a shepherd calling to his flock. There is something peaceful and ancient about that sound. I wonder, momentarily, where I am and when. Salim is off roundig up the camels somewhere . He has been gone a long time, over an hour. While he's gone, a character of an older desert man goes by on his camel riding bare back and at quite a fast trot. He is chasing a few cows. Then I see he turns around, comes over to me, stops and we do our best to converse. He is a picture of an old turbaned weather beaten man wearing puffy, full knee pants called a dohti (I see I'll need to have a pair of those!), with deep lines in his face which I'm sure hold their own stories! All of the men here wear turbans, most of which are white in this region of the desert which is a muslim identification. He sees our bag of apples, points to them indicating he would like one so I give him one. He offers me a type of tobacco, something in the nature of snuff. With his permission I take a few photos, and he is off striding across the desert after his camel.

During this first day, and more so as time goes on, a couple things become clear to me. This desert is not empty and barren of life nor is there total silence. It is very alive with people, animals and enough green plants to sustain the animals. I delight in periodically seeing a gazelle darting across the sand. Fortunately, the monsoons blessed this part of the desert this year. Much of the rest of the Thar is in a 3 year drought. Secondly, it is a place of great hospitality and generosity. Whenever a herder comes by during our meals, food is always gladly shared. No thought is given to whether or not we might run out of food before our week is up. Greediness, keeping mine for me first, doesn't seem evident. And this in a region of subsistence living, scratching what little one can from the earth.

While riding during the day, we sometimes come within shouting distance of another person. Salim and he carry on a conversation and I don't know how they can ever hear each other, particularly with the wind blowing, and sometimes they talk while facing the opposite direction! I can barely hear, if at all, the other person and sometimes even Salim's words are barely audible to me.

Throughout the day Salim and I from time to time carry on a conversation and I gradually learn more and more about him and his life. He is, as I said, a Muslim and has an infectious laugh that comes out almost like a high giggle. It feels like the little boy is still alive in him. He is a middle child of six children. His father is 52 and his mother 45. He grew up here and loves his life as a desert guide. Actually, he is hired by a hotel in Jaisalmer and is paid rs800 (about $17) per month plus whatever tips he gets from those he guides. This money goes to his family of origin who all live together. Salim is the only family member who actually brings home hard cash each month. His younger brother Pani (12) herds the 10 family goats, the father watches their 2 cows and 2 calves, and the youngest son, Ali (8), is in school . The two teenage daughters and mother care for the home, cook, carry water from their well and weed the sparse melon patch and camel grass. They live obvously at a subsistance level. The oldest son is married and lives with his wife and their new child in another round mud dwelling just a bit removed from the main compound. He herds sheep for another person. His wife spends her day with her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law. They all contribute to taking care of her new baby.

I'm curious how Salim knows where he is going in the desert so I ask him. It all looks rather much the same to me. He replies that he grew up in this desert and is a desert man. He has been over it many times day and night and has learned to look for landmarks - a tree, a well, a higher spot, or perhaps an outcropping of rock. He says he'd be lost in a place like New Delhi. He wouldn't know what to do, how to relate or how to survive. Here he is at home, a desert man, and knows the signs.

Salim doesn't ask me for anything. At least not yet, but I ask him lots of questions. I ask what he could earn if he had his own camel and he said rs5000 ($100) a month and with two camels double that amount. That is approximately his present annual income! He says someday he would like to own his own camel and is making payments to his boss the best he can. A male sells for rs12,000 ($250) and a female for rs15000 ($320). Thus far he ahs paid rs2500. Females produce one time a year and this baby is not ready for working or riding for three years.

So I am lying here looking at these stars and am having real difficulty going to sleep because I don't remember seeing such a brilliant display of the heavens and simply can not take my eyes off them. I am enthralled. Plus doing a little calculating I realize buying two camels and outfitting them with saddles, blankets, etc., would cost me the same as about one months travel here in India. This would make little difference to me, yet would increase Salim's income twelve fold and beyond subsistence living for the family. Some thoughts of a little microenterprising begin to rumble around. I let them do just that for awhile, trying to push them away but they keep coming back insistently.

Salim also tells me we will be passing through his village tomorrow and can meet his family. We'll have dinner with them and then go off and sleep on the dunes. I'm quite pleased with this prospect. The more I can experience the nitty gritty of desert life the better. I notice there are little villages or clusters of mud dwellings scattered throughout the desert. Salim's family actually lives about one kilometer outside the village. He tells me I must come back next year and live with him and his family for a month and he'll teach me some Hindi and the ways of the desert people. I of course don't make any comment on this or committment but this night under the stars and in the desert silence, it occurs to me, or gradually unfolds in my mind, that living with his family for a month would be a grand opportunity to be more than a tourist and actually experiencing the lives of these people, and a specific desert family. Meeting his family, seeing their living situation might also give me some helpful information in this regard.

The next day after breakfast we saddle up and go off at a trot. Just call me Ahab! Checking my thighs and butt, all seems to still be well. I'm loving this desert. Salim sometimes sings and smiles calling me brother as we slowly ride on. I ask him what he is singing and he says it is a Rajastani song about a man and a woman who just got married and how the husband is singing of his love for his wife. During the day we stop at three villages, sit and talk with the men and women. The always are curious and want to know about me. All know Salim and the older women bless him by gently touching both sides of his head as he bows low enough to put his head within easy reach of their hands. Some of the womem are separating grain from chaff by hand on a cement slab. They throw it up in the air and let the wind carry the chaff away. They laugh and speak animatedly, obviously enjoying their life. We walk to a 10' by 20' building which is the village mosque. Two men are saying their prayers while Salim and I sit and talk with another man in the mosque. This is acceptable and doesn't seem to disturb the men praying. When the two men are finished, they turn around , sit down, greet us and enter into the conversation, all very naturally. I am warmly welcomed and offered chai.

I notice when we come into a village we stop and dismount outside the village and lead our camels in. Salim says it is never respectful to ride you camel through a village other than your own. This village belongs to others and you don't ride your camels into another's home. It is presumptous and, as I said , disrespectful. Come to think of it, I likely wouldn't care to have a full grown camel in my living room! Sweet as they are!

Later in the afternoon we come to his cluster of family dwellings. I meet those of the family who are there. The teenage daughters are somewhat shy and adoreable. They, along with Salim's mother, are most welcoming. The father, Assam, and Pani are still with their stock. Ali is home from school and has an energetic spark in his eyes and face. There is a bit of mischeviousness there as well, it seems! They live in nice thatched roof round and rectangular mud plastered dwellings that are first built with mud bricks or stone.. There is no electricity and no toilet except for the biggest sad box you could ever want! You move the sand around, do your thing, cover it up and no problem! Just watch your cat. They teach us everything like a Zen master anyway. They have two wells about 10' deep. While here I take a bath. I stand or sit on a rock in the middle of this compound, have a big pail of water, undress discreetly with a short sarong around me and begin to pour water over my body as needed. Soap is supplied! They are respectful and don't stand around and stare, except for Salim who shows me how this can best be done

Having decided to buy Salim two camels, I inquire how one goes about making such a purchase here in the desert. Salim says there is a camel man with a herd of 25 to 30 camels who lives not too far away in another small family village. I ask what the chances are of visiting this village and having a look at the camels.

So about 6pm, Salim, a shepherd boy and I all get on Kalu and ride to the home of the camel man. The shepherd boy is actually the son of this man.. When we arrive, the camels are still out eating shrubs and anything green they can find. They go out about 5am and return around 8pm. So we wait until they come in after dark, meet Kada Khan the camel man, and have a 'dark' look at the camels. Salim points out a pregnant female who will deliver this December. They deliver one time a year. I ask him about a healthy male and he points out a young, strong, 3 year old. We walk around a bit more and I suggest we come back in the early morning light if possible and have another look. Salim and Kada agree. The owner says he will expect us and will not leave for grazing until 6am.

As we ride back in the dark with me at the reins, I'm a bit tense not being able to see much of anything. Kalu, however, knows where he is going and takes off at a good clip to get back to his friend Michael. Salim tells me they miss each other when apart, and he also assures me that Kalu can see about 3 kilometers in the dark. Great night vision, I'd say! And without night vision goggles! He can see, somehow, the undulations of the terrain, and knows when to slow to a walk or pick up again. I discover the truth of this. As we settle in to the sand for the night, Salim and I speak about camels and I tell him I will purchase a male and female camel for him as well as outfit them so they'll be ready to use for his guiding business. They will also be able to produce a young one each year thus gradually building the number of camels available to Salim.

The next morning we ride back early in the darkness, meet Kada, look at the camels, and Salim chooses the pregnant female and the 3 year old male. The owner will keep the camels for three months since neither has yet been broken in. In this time he will ride both each day, fully break them in and put in the guides, or nose plugs (lati) for the reins. He will also deliver the baby. Salim is pleased.

This all means going back to Jaisalmer, take the ATM card out of my ear, since most Indian shop keepers and and a good many regular folks see Westerners with ATM cards sticking out both ears, stick it in the ATM machine, get some cash and return to pay Kada at the appointed time. Which is what we do. Then it is back to desert living for a couple more weeks.
Copyright © 2005 Wayne Yoder. All rights reserved.