Date: Wed, 20 Dec 2000 09:33:34 -0800 (PST)
From: Jay Schneider
Subject: Joe Camel
Comrades!
I’ve returned to the Oppressive Kingdom of Siam. Though having been spared the colonial yoke of Imperialist European powers, capitalist bourgeois opportunists still abound, exploiting the workers and oppressing the peasants, poisoning minds and thwarting the revolution. But fear not, The Great, Unfailing Wisdom of The Party will heroically lead the masses to the proletariat dictatorship under which all will finally be free and equal!
(I’ll explain this, I promise I will…)
The final 2 weeks of my India trip, on the surface, could seem pretty straightforward: I traveled through Rajasthan, then headed to Calcutta to fly out. But this was made all the more interesting due to two factors. First, I had no business doing all I did with such an absurdly low amount of money. Second, I went to Calcutta from Jaipur (Rajasthan’s capital) via Bombay. (Those of you needing some geography assistance can feel free to take some time and look at an atlas.)
The Money Issue—
In past mailings I’ve mentioned my ‘meager means’ and ‘limited funds’ and so first off, I should like to clarify this point a bit.
I’ve had a bad habit, when traveling, of carrying far too much money with me. This habit, I decided, was not a good one to take with me to India, a place infamous for its scams, theft, and other things which make travel so ‘character-building.’ So prior to my departure for the sub-continent, I took a reasonable amount of cash and traveller’s cheques (traveler’s checks) for a couple of weeks in Nepal and a few months in India, and a bit for emergency, leaving the rest and my credit card in my safe deposit box in Bangkok.
Interruption — I must say it’s so cool to have a safe deposit box in a foreign country. Sure it’s no Swiss bank account, and admittedly I sometimes store my dirty laundry in it, but it’s still really cool and I can say things like “I have the negatives in a safe deposit box in Bangkok, in case you get any funny ideas…” (This is true, I have incriminating pictures of Ava, naked in front of Himeji Castle. Why she would do such I thing, I’ll never quite understand…)
So, I left with a more-than-adequate budget, and spent 2 months in Nepal instead of 2 weeks (time and money very well spent, though). When time for India came around, the money was understandably low.
Now, India’s a cheap country for travel, and I could’ve spent many months hangin’ out in some cool places, but my goal wasn’t just to go for as long as possible on as little. I had big plans, and little things like ‘money’ and ‘lack of it’ weren’t going to get in my way (power of positive thinking).
Off to the Indian state of Rajasthan. Really cool forts and palaces, colorful turbans on men with funky mustaches, and, what we’ve all been waiting for, CAMELS!
Yes, I did my camel safari, and it was so cool, I’m thinking of taking up smoking (Joe Camel lives!). I spent 3 days and 2 nights in the Thar Desert, which straddles the India-Pakistan border. Though, my camel was a bit of a slacker, had a bad eye and stepped on my toe (this, I believe, had nothing to do with his lame eye. It was personal.), the scenery was spectacular (in that way that barren nothingness can be), and I slept in the open air, on the dunes under the stars (and a few blankets–winter’s cold in the desert).
Camel Treks are heavily marketed for the tourists Rajasthan, so I was a little worried that it’d be a bit like Disneyland, but it wasn’t at all. And while “riding a camel through the desert” sells it to the tourists, and is great for telling the folks back home (as I’m doing now), what was most enjoyable for me were the things that weren’t necessarily so unique, such as cooking over an open fire, and sleeping out in the open under a full moon. These are things that I’ve done before, and it’s my desire to do again and again.
Each night, I went to sleep giddy and giggling, having one of my frequent “damn, my life is so good” flashes, and woke several times rewarded by views of the constellations and a full moon. Also, in the late, quite desert night, I discovered that the sound of urine hitting the sand is REALLY LOUD!
Okay, what was the icing on the camel cake? What made this already wonderful trip so much more unique and cool? After a long negotiating session, a complex and elaborate package was arranged. I got the camel safari, 2 free nights’ accommodation (the safari was booked through the guesthouse), one free meal, and as many cups of chai as I could drink while I stayed with them. They got a small amount of money, and, get this, my watch! Trading a watch for a ride on a one-eyed camel (even toe-crushing camels) is so cool, in that “having a safe deposit box in Bangkok” sense of the word.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, money low and butt sore, and drinking a lot of chai, I relaxed around the guesthouse and was approached for more negotiations (I thought they were after a draft pick). I was offered a job. I went with one of the staff to the city of Jodhpur, which many tourists come to on their way to Jaisalmer (where I did the camel safari). My job was to tell other tourists about their hotel and camel safari. For this, they would pay for my expenses, and give my 200 rupees a day. I didn’t like the thought of “going to the other side” and becoming one of the touts I despised so much, but I had no objections to advertising their hotel and safari, as they were good products. Besides, you know my money situation, and my plan had been to hole up in Jaisalmer doing nothing (and eating nothing) for a few days.
Anyhoo, I had fun meeting loads of travelers (ran into friends I’d made elsewhere, and met a guy who’d cycled through China, Pakistan and now into India–got me thinkin…) and was very honest and forthcoming in what I was doing (my employers would have been disappointed, I’m sure). I only did this one and a half days, because I wanted to get on the road again, but now I’ve got that touting, er, I mean “Public Relations and Advertising” experience employers love so much…
Jaipur, is home to a number of forts, palaces, and really cool astronomy instruments, but the most enjoyable was running into a friend I’d made in Delhi, and going to see a Hindi movie, Bollywood Blockbuster: “Mission Kashmir.” Action, song, dance, tears, romance, I can see why it was one of the hits of the year (but had I seen one of the hundreds of other “hits of the year” I may not have been able to tell the difference between them).
During the intermission, the man in front of us turned around and started speaking Hindi. When he realized we couldn’t understand, he spoke English, and asked why, if we couldn’t understand Hindi, we had come to see a Hindi movie? I answered that while I couldn’t understand Hindi, I had no trouble understanding the movie. Actually, that’s not true. I could understand the basic plot: super-cool army leader’s son dies. Supercool guy, wearing a mask, goes on mission to kill Muslim terrorists. One of the men killed was survived by a son. Sad wife of supercool guy suggests adopting the orphan. They do. Orphan has some issues, having witnessed a bloodbath in which his father was gunned down by a masked man. Finally, in a dream in which the supercool guy’s son appears and dances around in his underwear, everyone becomes happy and they all play cricket. One night, the now-happy boy (orphan-boy, not underwear-boy) finds the mask, puts two and two together (and the mask on), and decides to try and kill supercool guy. Failing, he runs out the window into darkness. Time passes, and we know this because supercool guy has a different hairstyle and a mustache. The orphan boy (now a supercool guy in his own right), returns as part of a Muslim terrorist group…. etc. (sorry, we’re not even at the intermission yet. It goes on and on, and eventually, after much singing and dancing in the strangest moments, it all works out, and they’re a happy family again (minus the mother whom the orphan mistakenly killed while trying to knock off his foster-dad, supercool guy.)
My point is, I had no difficulty following plot, but, as one raised in a different culture, I couldn’t understand the spontaneous outbreaks of singing and dancing around trees and fake gardens. Cultural differences, I guess…
After leaving Jaipur, I would be spending 55 out of 65 hours on a train, and decided I may want something to read. Checking all the bookstores, my budget couldn’t cover anything more than an Archie comic, and those were over-priced and wouldn’t last me long). What I needed was the maximum amount of pages, for the least amount of rupees. Content was of little importance. Finally, I stumble upon a store filled with dusty, and worn books, which looked promising. Oh, yeah, on the window was painted “Soviet Books.” Communist and Socialist essays, literature and propaganda of all sorts could be found, at VERY reasonable prices. “The Soviet Union: a Successful Future” was a particular bargain. I stocked up on “The History of the Communist Party in the Soviet Union,” “What is the Party?” and “The Theory of Revolution” for a piddling 30 rupees (60 cents). (And now, the ‘Comrades’ intro makes sense! It all comes together!)
You may be wondering why I didn’t go directly to Calcutta, but instead traveled hundreds of kilometers out of my way to Mumbai (formerly Bombay) for only a matter of hours. No, this time the answer is not as simple as “Erotic Temple Carvings”. I can’t really explain it other than to say I just had to go. It’s Bollywood, home of the stars, glamour and glitz, not to mention the Indian Mafia and red-light districts. But, it’s more than that, it was sort of a calling from my childhood. I remember standing in line outside my 2nd grade classroom next to J.P. and looking through the window at a globe, making stupid, 2nd grade jokes which all ended “…in BOMBAY!” and this was enough to send us into hysterics. I really don’t know why, but I suppose it requires a 3rd grade level kind of logic and humor. Anyhow, I don’t expect you to understand, and I’m not sure why I’m choosing to share this childhood memory with you all, but something about actually going to this place which almost 20 years ago had no meaning to me other than a faraway place whose name would induce laughter, well it was just something I had to do, even if only for a matter of hours.
And the simple explanation: why would I choose to spend 55 out of 65 hours on a train just to catch a glimpse of a place? Because I’m that cool. (See earlier definitions of ‘cool’ above.)
40 train hours after Bombay, and a day and night in Calcutta later, I left India with 100 rupees in my pocket (it would have been 120, but the security guy who searched me at the airport suggested I give him some so he could buy himself tea. He was so cute with his toothless grin. I just couldn’t resist making my final ‘donation’ to India.)
Final thoughts?
I’ll rip-off, and misquote and modify-to-fit-my-purposes a bit from William S…..(I forget)’s book “Are you Experienced?” (A great read by the way). The set up: two fresh, first-time travelers arrive in a dormitory in India, and find an experienced, “cooler” traveler lying about…
“Hi!”
“Peace.”
“Wow, it’s really hot here, isn’t it?”
“Let me guess, you’re new here, right?”
“Yeah, just off the plane! How long you been here?”
“Oh…” he says, chuckling slightly in that way an adult laugh’s at a child’s innocent question “long enough…long enough. Long enough to love it….and hate it.”
“So, what’s that, like a week or something?”
Merry Xmas and Happy New Year for all those to whom it applies!
I’ll be hangin’ on the beaches of Thailand for a while with a Berkeley friend (Chucky) and another friend I’m going to try and blackmail (Ava).
Until next time,
Jay “on holiday till 2001” Schneider