Pushkar, India (Apr. 6-12)
Pushkar was everything I needed in my life wrapped in one tiny hippi town. There were lots of tourists, which I needed after Africa; western and even vegan food, which I needed after Mathura; no need for tuk tuks since everything was walking distance; a mellow vibe and less pushy sales people; dance classes; and awesome shopping. Even my hotel staff were polite and said lovely things like "you have nothing to worry about here" instead of the horribly rude people in Delhi; I felt like I was living in a yoga studio. On top of that, it was so small that you ran into the people you knew everywhere. After three months of saying goodbye forever to people after only few days, I can't explain how amazing it feels to be able to run into people you already know. I never appreciated that feeling before. Despite the very odd tourist style where everyone seemed to dress like the lost boys from "Hook", it was the first place that felt like home since Moshi and I soaked up every second of it.
I had been trying to take a dance class or watch any type of dance for five months and something always stood in my way. I was in Pushkar for about an hour when this gipsy woman started talking to me about gipsy dancing. She barely spoke English and I couldn't really understand what she was talking about, but I would have followed anyone who knew something about dance.
She brought me to a hotel restaurant where she said the lessons would take place and introduced me to a girl named Claudia who was taking classes and could finally explain to me what was going on. She told me that they do performances there every Friday night and we scheduled a private class with one of them for the following afternoon. I spent the rest of the day shopping and relaxing because I was still exhausted from the train ride.
The next day I had an amazing breakfast on my rooftop, went to two different gipsy dancing classes, had a vegan lunch at a place called Honey and Spice, and got a pedicure before I went to meet Amir to watch the gipsy dancing show. I was loving my life.
Pushkar was everything I needed in my life wrapped in one tiny hippi town. There were lots of tourists, which I needed after Africa; western and even vegan food, which I needed after Mathura; no need for tuk tuks since everything was walking distance; a mellow vibe and less pushy sales people; dance classes; and awesome shopping. Even my hotel staff were polite and said lovely things like "you have nothing to worry about here" instead of the horribly rude people in Delhi; I felt like I was living in a yoga studio. On top of that, it was so small that you ran into the people you knew everywhere. After three months of saying goodbye forever to people after only few days, I can't explain how amazing it feels to be able to run into people you already know. I never appreciated that feeling before. Despite the very odd tourist style where everyone seemed to dress like the lost boys from "Hook", it was the first place that felt like home since Moshi and I soaked up every second of it.
I had been trying to take a dance class or watch any type of dance for five months and something always stood in my way. I was in Pushkar for about an hour when this gipsy woman started talking to me about gipsy dancing. She barely spoke English and I couldn't really understand what she was talking about, but I would have followed anyone who knew something about dance.
She brought me to a hotel restaurant where she said the lessons would take place and introduced me to a girl named Claudia who was taking classes and could finally explain to me what was going on. She told me that they do performances there every Friday night and we scheduled a private class with one of them for the following afternoon. I spent the rest of the day shopping and relaxing because I was still exhausted from the train ride.
The next day I had an amazing breakfast on my rooftop, went to two different gipsy dancing classes, had a vegan lunch at a place called Honey and Spice, and got a pedicure before I went to meet Amir to watch the gipsy dancing show. I was loving my life.
The show was insanely cool. They played traditional instruments, danced in elaborate costumes, and there was even a fire breather. At the end, one of the girls pulled Claudia and I up to dance with her. Since she was pulling people up, I figured she would just do something quick and simple, but she started doing all of these elaborate moves that I was struggling to keep up with after only one day of Khalbelia lessons. I don't think I blew anyone away, but I tried anyways.
SIDE NOTE: Pushkar is where I finally figured out what was going on with the cows: they don't have owners. They just basically wander in the streets and people feed them. It is funny that they are holy and some of them look so horrible, I hear, from eating plastic off of the streets. They would clearly be so much better off in fields, on farms. It was strange also that India is the first time I had ever seen an old cow. I never really thought about the fact that I had never seen one before.
Once I started getting really into Khalbelia, I started doing private lessons in the mornings at the gipsy village in the desert where my teacher, Raki lives. The gipsy village is a really interesting place: that sort of decrepid and run-down beautiful that I love to find in really good photography. Her house and dance studio were two of the three solid buildings that were there; Everything else was tents.
Raki demonstrated the moves while her husband played the drums and every so often one of her children or someone from the village would peak their head into the window or door. It took some time to get used to the unstructured style of the classes after years of such formal dance classes, but I started to really enjoy them. I sometimes stuck around for Claudia's class and sat around with the family drinking chai and playing around on the drums. They made me feel like part of the family.
My favourite place to hang out were these stairs by the water that had the best view of the sunset. The first time we went, a gipsy woman sat with us and started trying to sell me anklets. "I already have them", I told her. When that didn't work, she started trying to sell me henna. I looked at the pictures she showed me and they were pretty awful and sloppy. I think her hand was really shaky because she was quite old: not ideal for doing henna. There was no way I wanted that on me. The next time I went, she gave me a big hug and she was so sweet. I just loved her and I couldn't say no. "Just a small one", I said, but she just kept going. And that is how I ended up with my cherry-headed-alien-baby on my wrist for two weeks.
Pushkar is supposed to be a dry and vegetarian city, but it is actually baffling how many places you can find alcohol not-to-mention the number of times you get offerred drugs on the street. That is true all over India though. The run often goes "Boat ride?...No...money exchange?...No...Guesthouse?...No...Hash?Opium?" They are Jack-of-all-trades'.
They had beers at the guesthouse of these Argentinians I met so we spent a few nights there sitting under the stars. I met this really interesting German girl who was a sort of spiritual therapist and somehow combined a sort-of psychic reading or energy with therapeutic discussion. Her and her friend both spoke about how they had been stuck in this horrible place and it had really changed them. I normally tend to believe that those things are a bit ridiculous, but I think anything that can impact someone's life that much is worth considering. Either way, I always find it really interesting to talk to people who have such a different perspective on life.
I met a guy from the UK on my hotel rooftop and ended up going out for lassis that night with him and his two friends. It was pretty dark when we were leaving, so we decided to walk the girl who was staying at the other hotel home. We walked around one corner and sitting at the side of the road was this small burning piece of newspaper that kind of looked like it was from an apocalytic scene. Suddenly, these three children, the oldest of about 6, came running out and started crouching around the fire and drinking a clear liquid of of a massive jug. Then they started breathing fire.
I had seen this fire-blowing trick at the gipsy show before, but that still did not prepare me to find toddlers breathing fire in the dark and winding streets when I turned that corner. We all stopped dead in our tracks and remained there for a while in fear even after the children ran away laughing.
My last full night in Pushkar was some sort of Indian New Years and we wandered the streets to watch the parade. There were lit up floats and people carrying chandeliers, followed by generators to power them as well as people in costume being carried around on thrones. At one corner, they had set up a disco ball and strobe light. When the parade arrived there, it stopped, and all of the men went into the streets and just raged for about 30 minutes, then the parade continued. It was very strange.
My friends from the UK ended up going home early, so I stayed out with a bunch of people I met in town. I don't think it was that late when we left the bar, but by the time we left the streets were completely empty. They were all staying at a different hotel so I said good-bye and wandered off down the dark and empty alleyways alone. This was probably the most scared I have been during my entire trip. I had my swiss army knife thrust in front of me with one hand and my water bottle to scare the dogs in the other as I cautiously made my way around the corners. I was almost home when I approached the big open space in front of the temple, just before my hotel. There was a large pack of dogs there and they started to gather and slowly move towards me, snarling and barking. The only other way there was to take this long circle back through the darkened streets, which equally terrified me; I was going through.
I decided that the usual tactic I used of threatening them with my water bottle might just incite them since there were so many of them; I was definitely not looking to anger them I further. I cautiously made my way around the edge, keeping my eyes towards the dogs and my knife out in front. They continued their barking and snarling, but backed off once I got to the other side and started to walk away. I was actually shaking by the time I walked in the front door of my guest house.
The next day, I was sitting with my friend Jenna when a girl she was supposed to meet the day before wandered over. She explained that she had missed the meeting because she was attacked by a dog and had to go to the hospital to get stitched up and get her rabies shots. I was actually horrified.
I think because very few of the dogs are domesticated, they have gone back to their wild ways. You can see them all sleeping by the sides of the streets during the day, but at night they take over and obviously get very territorial. I used to really love dogs, but I am not a big fan in India.
Jenna and I had dinner at the Israeli food stand and watched the second round of the parade go by before I had to catch my bus out. We met this couple who was travelling through India on a motorcycle and had therefore made some interesting and unconventional stops along the way. The woman said they stopped at this one farm town where she saw a pile of animal carcasses that were being fed on by other animals. WOW India sometimes.
Jenna walked me to my bus and waited with me until it arrived. As I sat on my bed and spent moments fully air-borne in what was, up until that moment, the most insane bus ride of my life, I was definitely the saddest I have been on my whole trip to leave that little town of Pushkar.
SIDE NOTE: Pushkar is where I finally figured out what was going on with the cows: they don't have owners. They just basically wander in the streets and people feed them. It is funny that they are holy and some of them look so horrible, I hear, from eating plastic off of the streets. They would clearly be so much better off in fields, on farms. It was strange also that India is the first time I had ever seen an old cow. I never really thought about the fact that I had never seen one before.
Once I started getting really into Khalbelia, I started doing private lessons in the mornings at the gipsy village in the desert where my teacher, Raki lives. The gipsy village is a really interesting place: that sort of decrepid and run-down beautiful that I love to find in really good photography. Her house and dance studio were two of the three solid buildings that were there; Everything else was tents.
Raki demonstrated the moves while her husband played the drums and every so often one of her children or someone from the village would peak their head into the window or door. It took some time to get used to the unstructured style of the classes after years of such formal dance classes, but I started to really enjoy them. I sometimes stuck around for Claudia's class and sat around with the family drinking chai and playing around on the drums. They made me feel like part of the family.
My favourite place to hang out were these stairs by the water that had the best view of the sunset. The first time we went, a gipsy woman sat with us and started trying to sell me anklets. "I already have them", I told her. When that didn't work, she started trying to sell me henna. I looked at the pictures she showed me and they were pretty awful and sloppy. I think her hand was really shaky because she was quite old: not ideal for doing henna. There was no way I wanted that on me. The next time I went, she gave me a big hug and she was so sweet. I just loved her and I couldn't say no. "Just a small one", I said, but she just kept going. And that is how I ended up with my cherry-headed-alien-baby on my wrist for two weeks.
Pushkar is supposed to be a dry and vegetarian city, but it is actually baffling how many places you can find alcohol not-to-mention the number of times you get offerred drugs on the street. That is true all over India though. The run often goes "Boat ride?...No...money exchange?...No...Guesthouse?...No...Hash?Opium?" They are Jack-of-all-trades'.
They had beers at the guesthouse of these Argentinians I met so we spent a few nights there sitting under the stars. I met this really interesting German girl who was a sort of spiritual therapist and somehow combined a sort-of psychic reading or energy with therapeutic discussion. Her and her friend both spoke about how they had been stuck in this horrible place and it had really changed them. I normally tend to believe that those things are a bit ridiculous, but I think anything that can impact someone's life that much is worth considering. Either way, I always find it really interesting to talk to people who have such a different perspective on life.
I met a guy from the UK on my hotel rooftop and ended up going out for lassis that night with him and his two friends. It was pretty dark when we were leaving, so we decided to walk the girl who was staying at the other hotel home. We walked around one corner and sitting at the side of the road was this small burning piece of newspaper that kind of looked like it was from an apocalytic scene. Suddenly, these three children, the oldest of about 6, came running out and started crouching around the fire and drinking a clear liquid of of a massive jug. Then they started breathing fire.
I had seen this fire-blowing trick at the gipsy show before, but that still did not prepare me to find toddlers breathing fire in the dark and winding streets when I turned that corner. We all stopped dead in our tracks and remained there for a while in fear even after the children ran away laughing.
My last full night in Pushkar was some sort of Indian New Years and we wandered the streets to watch the parade. There were lit up floats and people carrying chandeliers, followed by generators to power them as well as people in costume being carried around on thrones. At one corner, they had set up a disco ball and strobe light. When the parade arrived there, it stopped, and all of the men went into the streets and just raged for about 30 minutes, then the parade continued. It was very strange.
My friends from the UK ended up going home early, so I stayed out with a bunch of people I met in town. I don't think it was that late when we left the bar, but by the time we left the streets were completely empty. They were all staying at a different hotel so I said good-bye and wandered off down the dark and empty alleyways alone. This was probably the most scared I have been during my entire trip. I had my swiss army knife thrust in front of me with one hand and my water bottle to scare the dogs in the other as I cautiously made my way around the corners. I was almost home when I approached the big open space in front of the temple, just before my hotel. There was a large pack of dogs there and they started to gather and slowly move towards me, snarling and barking. The only other way there was to take this long circle back through the darkened streets, which equally terrified me; I was going through.
I decided that the usual tactic I used of threatening them with my water bottle might just incite them since there were so many of them; I was definitely not looking to anger them I further. I cautiously made my way around the edge, keeping my eyes towards the dogs and my knife out in front. They continued their barking and snarling, but backed off once I got to the other side and started to walk away. I was actually shaking by the time I walked in the front door of my guest house.
The next day, I was sitting with my friend Jenna when a girl she was supposed to meet the day before wandered over. She explained that she had missed the meeting because she was attacked by a dog and had to go to the hospital to get stitched up and get her rabies shots. I was actually horrified.
I think because very few of the dogs are domesticated, they have gone back to their wild ways. You can see them all sleeping by the sides of the streets during the day, but at night they take over and obviously get very territorial. I used to really love dogs, but I am not a big fan in India.
Jenna and I had dinner at the Israeli food stand and watched the second round of the parade go by before I had to catch my bus out. We met this couple who was travelling through India on a motorcycle and had therefore made some interesting and unconventional stops along the way. The woman said they stopped at this one farm town where she saw a pile of animal carcasses that were being fed on by other animals. WOW India sometimes.
Jenna walked me to my bus and waited with me until it arrived. As I sat on my bed and spent moments fully air-borne in what was, up until that moment, the most insane bus ride of my life, I was definitely the saddest I have been on my whole trip to leave that little town of Pushkar.
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