Shrove Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday…
Feb. 20, 2007
Up and at it early, and I just wanted to peel the Velcro doorway of our tent and step out into the fresh air of our dessert campsite, having gone to bed in the midst of a starry sky, as clear as Maine night skies. I brought my laptop out with me and set it up at the table in the dining tent and to try to catch up on my daily journal.
Within only a few minutes, while sitting at the table typing, I became aware that Dinesh was standing at my side, offering morning tea. He wore one of the most colorful turbans I have ever seen – one of a range of pastels from pink to blue to yellow to green, and artfully wound around his head.
He poured my tea and a bit of milk and about a quarter-teaspoon of raw sugar. This all in a demitasse sized cup… Shortly afterward, I realized that Pradeep was standing nearby, and when I turned my head to say “Good morning,” he smiled, placed his hands together in front of his chest and offered a “Namaste”. It was going to be another wonderful day, although a bit cooler than the day before.
We were supposed to be up and at it a bit earlier than the day before, so when we went trekking through the hills, it would not be quite as hot as it had been the day before. The generator was started, so I was able to plug in my laptop to get re-charged, and then went into the ten to wake up Jay Kapner. I had already heard Joan Nickell stirring in her tent, and then heard as she pulled the Velcro opening apart and emerged into the cook of the dessert morning. She had been reading in one of her novels, and then came outside to see what was scheduled for the day. Jo Barrow and Darlene Beal also emerged from their tent, and Dinesh began to bring out some special chapattis for breakfast – he had made the with aloo and gobi (potato and cauliflower). Breakfast was another wonderful meal, complete with omelets, chapattis, orange juice, and of course, tea.
As soon as breakfast was over, we put away anything we wouldn’t need for the trek, and then set off with Sarveer, our guide.
We began by following essentially the same path we had climbed the previous day. When we descended into the clearing, I looked to my right and once again noticed what appeared to be a home or some kind of building(s) carved into the hillside and what appeared to be a GIANT big screen TV monitor. As I looked more closely, the design on this “screen” was a stylized symbol for OM. This is a very sacred symbol for Hindus, and this particular OM had been created with great purpose and attention to design, at least in my observation. We continued to trek more closely to this hillside edifice, and then passed by it. I noticed a few people in front of the building – one thin man wearing the traditional orange and yellow cloth of a Hindu priest or Brahman. Eventually, as we were walking along a level car path (road would be far too generous) Sarveer pointed out the prints in the sand of at least one leopard. He indicated quietly that this leopard had been here recently – at most, only a few hours before we arrived!
About an hour and a half into the trek, we heard the distant sound of the approaching Jeep, driven by Pradeep, and so we waited for him to arrive. Joan and I opted to continue the morning with Pradeep in the Jeep, while the other three continued on foot with Sarveer. They would climb up and over two low ranges and meet us on the other side.
After the others had left, I asked Pradeep about the temple on the hillside and he confirmed that it was a Hindu temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva. I asked if it would be alright and respectful for the three of us to climb the hundred stairs up to the temple and to visit it.
He said it would be fine and so we walked back to the base of the stairs and he explained the temple had literally been carved out of the hillside, beginning with a cave, and expanding it into the mountain. There is a natural spring from within the rock, providing fresh, safe drinking water to the monastery and anyone who wishes to come and gather water from the pipe. We removed our shoes at the entrance and were invited inside. Pradeep directed Joan and me to the left, where the temple is actually located, and we heard the sounds of chanting by the Brahman priest, as he bathed the god, Shiva. It is customary for the god(s) to be bathed several times each day, using milk, honey, sugar, yogurt and cumin. Once the god is fully bathe and rinsed, then it is “dressed” in brightly colored pieces of fabric, and then adorned with fresh flowers. All the while, the Brahman priest is chanting various mantras. He finishes bathing the god, and removes the solid silver coiled cobra snake and hood, to reveal a sizable black stone lingam (phallus) which is one of the representations of Lord Shiva. He applies several smears of colored paste all around the lingam, yellow and orange and red, and then adorns the other idol statues with the same colors. He then comes to us, chants another mantra and smears the red-orange paste on each of our foreheads – a tikka – and then ties the red-yellow-orange strings ( Raksha Bandhan is a very special festival in India. It is the celebration of the special bond between a brother and a sister. Sisters tie a band of red thread around their brothers’ wrists as a sign of affection. Legend tells of the sister asking that the blessings of God be showered on her brother throughout the year. By extending his wrist forward so his sister can tie the threads around it, the brother is symbolically extending his hand of protection over her. ) around our wrists. We were then invited to sprinkle marigold petals and roses onto the various idol statues, before we left. We did so and then went to pay our respects to the head of the monastery – an older gentleman who sat outside the inner sanctum of the temple. We bid him farewell, and descended the stairs and walked back to the jeep.
Although I had experiences similar to this from past trips to India, I was interested to see how moved Joan seemed to be with the ceremony and the reverence with which various parts are observed. We were pleased to have had this very unique experience.
After returning to the jeep, Pradeep told us we would be driving to another village, about 30-45 minutes away, where we would wait for the others of the team who would meet us at the end of their trek.
We arrived at the gates leading into another temple – this one also dedicated to Lord Shiva, but was as ornate as the first temple had been stark. There was a Brahman priest at this temple, as well, but he had concluded the ritual bathing of the gods and so we missed that. However, in the heat, with the spilling of milk, honey, sugar, yogurt and cumin, onto the floor of the temple, the attraction to myriad flies is an understatement! A few minutes after removing our shoes and entering the temple, the others joined us from their trek over the mountains, and we were invited to visit with the head of the monastery and were taken to the upper apartment of the monk in charge of the monastery.
There we were invited to sit on cushions and have tea with him, and we enjoyed speaking with him about myriad topics. He seemed most genial, although at times he appeared to be “drifting off” from our conversation. Perhaps it was just a momentary lapse, we were unsure. However, when we asked him whether or not he would ever be interested in traveling outside of India – perhaps to America or Great Britain, he told us he could never leave there. When asked why, he replied, “Because of my addiction.”
Pradeep, our host, then explained that this monk as totally cared for by the other younger priests at the temple, and that he has a constant supply of opium provided to him – consuming what appeared to be about the size of a pack of cigarettes of opium every day. That explained his drifting more clearly.
When we departed from that temple, we climbed back into the jeep and then were driven back into the little village, where we were to have lunch at the home of one of the shepherds there. The villagers seemed curious but welcoming, and we all sat on woven beds on frames made of branches, underneath a roof of twigs and branches, to shield us from the hot sun. Once again, Pradeep’s wife had provided a wonderful lunch for us, served by Dinesh.
We rested after lunch and noticed that some of the children of the village sneaked up behind a hut near where we were sitting, and we waved to them and beckoned them to come closer. They were shy and hid back behind the hut. I asked Pradeep if he could ask the shepherd to invite the children or the ladies to come and sit by us and sing some songs. 
They did eventually come closer and sit in a group very close to us, with several of the ladies covering their faces with very colorful veils – a tradition for most women of the villages in Rajasthan in general, and Siana in particular.
The group sang three or four songs and then gestured that we should do the same. We joined in a chorus of “You are My Sunshine”, much to their delight. Lunch and entertainment over, we then climbed back into the jeep for fairly far out into the dessert. It seemed as thought we were following paths – foot paths at best – further and further out into the dessert and away from any villages. In the distance, we saw about one hundred people working with shovels and pickaxes and hods (basins). As we drew closer, Pradeep told us about a water conservation project, where these folks were working to dig down areas of soil, approximately 15’ x 20’ and two feet in depth. They would then break up the clods of soil, which were almost like concrete, and carry hod after hod and dump onto a pie, which would serve as a dam to stop future floods in that region. In the past, the earthen dams were only two feet high, and they were constructing this one to be a minimum of four feet high, if not six feet. When the monsoons come, the series of dams, which covered several square miles, would slow down the flooding process, enough to be able to cause dissipation of the waters into the ground, thereby making it more fertile and able to be tilled for growing crops. Each of the laboring families – consisting of three or four people, was given the task of clearing the parcels in two days’ time, and would be paid in full an amount equivalent to $2.00 per day per person, IF the work was completed satisfactorily. If not, they would be paid on a pro-rata basis, but at a lesser rate overall.
The workers asked Pradeep if he would contact the government official who was responsible for paying them, as they had not been paid in four weeks. He immediately tried calling from his mobile phone, but was unable to contact the person. He promised to follow up on this the next day or two. We were all pretty impressed with the amount of work these people are doing – particularly the women – and recalled that only a few days prior, we were also carrying hods of dirt on our heads, so felt especially empathetic toward them.
When we left there, we drove back toward our tent encampment, but got sidetracked along the way by a shepherd, who had recently seen a leopard, and, “Did we want to go leopard hunting again?” Of course we did, so we found Sarveer along one of the paths (it is remarkable how he and others just seemed to materialize when needed). He climbed aboard the jeep, with another two men – one would handle the spotlight and the other would track with Sarveer on foot. As I had earlier described Sarveer – he was tall, wearing the traditional dhoti and shirt-waistcoat, and his aqua turban. He had a wonderful, steady gait, almost gliding over the rough terrain, with little adjustment for obstacles. He simply moved ahead. His eyes were constantly moving about, and he obviously had keen hearing, as well.
At one point, Sarveer, almost in one fluid movement, climbed out of the back of the jeep and down onto the ground. He vanished into the brush and within a few moments came back into view, with his hand on the shoulder of a young man who was carrying a lamb. He then turned and walked with the young man off into the distance, returning about ten minutes later. When I asked Pradeep what Sarveer had done, he explained that the young man was from the neighboring village and was mentally retarded, and Sarveer was guiding him safely through that area, since he was carrying a lamb, and also was mentally challenged. With his same gentle smile, Sarveer returned to the jeep and climbed back in with us. We then traversed back and forth at the base of the hills, looking intently for the leopard. We continued this for about an hour, until darkness fell and we then used the search light to perhaps catch a glimpse of the leopard’s eyes, as the light passed by him. We did see eyes off in the distance, but never got any closer to the leopard. We returned to the campsite, had been joined by Pradeep’s brother, uncle and father for our social time, and then ate dinner and retired early.
Feb. 20, 2007
Up and at it early, and I just wanted to peel the Velcro doorway of our tent and step out into the fresh air of our dessert campsite, having gone to bed in the midst of a starry sky, as clear as Maine night skies. I brought my laptop out with me and set it up at the table in the dining tent and to try to catch up on my daily journal.
Within only a few minutes, while sitting at the table typing, I became aware that Dinesh was standing at my side, offering morning tea. He wore one of the most colorful turbans I have ever seen – one of a range of pastels from pink to blue to yellow to green, and artfully wound around his head.
He poured my tea and a bit of milk and about a quarter-teaspoon of raw sugar. This all in a demitasse sized cup… Shortly afterward, I realized that Pradeep was standing nearby, and when I turned my head to say “Good morning,” he smiled, placed his hands together in front of his chest and offered a “Namaste”. It was going to be another wonderful day, although a bit cooler than the day before.We were supposed to be up and at it a bit earlier than the day before, so when we went trekking through the hills, it would not be quite as hot as it had been the day before. The generator was started, so I was able to plug in my laptop to get re-charged, and then went into the ten to wake up Jay Kapner. I had already heard Joan Nickell stirring in her tent, and then heard as she pulled the Velcro opening apart and emerged into the cook of the dessert morning. She had been reading in one of her novels, and then came outside to see what was scheduled for the day. Jo Barrow and Darlene Beal also emerged from their tent, and Dinesh began to bring out some special chapattis for breakfast – he had made the with aloo and gobi (potato and cauliflower). Breakfast was another wonderful meal, complete with omelets, chapattis, orange juice, and of course, tea.
As soon as breakfast was over, we put away anything we wouldn’t need for the trek, and then set off with Sarveer, our guide.
We began by following essentially the same path we had climbed the previous day. When we descended into the clearing, I looked to my right and once again noticed what appeared to be a home or some kind of building(s) carved into the hillside and what appeared to be a GIANT big screen TV monitor. As I looked more closely, the design on this “screen” was a stylized symbol for OM. This is a very sacred symbol for Hindus, and this particular OM had been created with great purpose and attention to design, at least in my observation. We continued to trek more closely to this hillside edifice, and then passed by it. I noticed a few people in front of the building – one thin man wearing the traditional orange and yellow cloth of a Hindu priest or Brahman. Eventually, as we were walking along a level car path (road would be far too generous) Sarveer pointed out the prints in the sand of at least one leopard. He indicated quietly that this leopard had been here recently – at most, only a few hours before we arrived!About an hour and a half into the trek, we heard the distant sound of the approaching Jeep, driven by Pradeep, and so we waited for him to arrive. Joan and I opted to continue the morning with Pradeep in the Jeep, while the other three continued on foot with Sarveer. They would climb up and over two low ranges and meet us on the other side.
After the others had left, I asked Pradeep about the temple on the hillside and he confirmed that it was a Hindu temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva. I asked if it would be alright and respectful for the three of us to climb the hundred stairs up to the temple and to visit it.
He said it would be fine and so we walked back to the base of the stairs and he explained the temple had literally been carved out of the hillside, beginning with a cave, and expanding it into the mountain. There is a natural spring from within the rock, providing fresh, safe drinking water to the monastery and anyone who wishes to come and gather water from the pipe. We removed our shoes at the entrance and were invited inside. Pradeep directed Joan and me to the left, where the temple is actually located, and we heard the sounds of chanting by the Brahman priest, as he bathed the god, Shiva. It is customary for the god(s) to be bathed several times each day, using milk, honey, sugar, yogurt and cumin. Once the god is fully bathe and rinsed, then it is “dressed” in brightly colored pieces of fabric, and then adorned with fresh flowers. All the while, the Brahman priest is chanting various mantras. He finishes bathing the god, and removes the solid silver coiled cobra snake and hood, to reveal a sizable black stone lingam (phallus) which is one of the representations of Lord Shiva. He applies several smears of colored paste all around the lingam, yellow and orange and red, and then adorns the other idol statues with the same colors. He then comes to us, chants another mantra and smears the red-orange paste on each of our foreheads – a tikka – and then ties the red-yellow-orange strings ( Raksha Bandhan is a very special festival in India. It is the celebration of the special bond between a brother and a sister. Sisters tie a band of red thread around their brothers’ wrists as a sign of affection. Legend tells of the sister asking that the blessings of God be showered on her brother throughout the year. By extending his wrist forward so his sister can tie the threads around it, the brother is symbolically extending his hand of protection over her. ) around our wrists. We were then invited to sprinkle marigold petals and roses onto the various idol statues, before we left. We did so and then went to pay our respects to the head of the monastery – an older gentleman who sat outside the inner sanctum of the temple. We bid him farewell, and descended the stairs and walked back to the jeep.Although I had experiences similar to this from past trips to India, I was interested to see how moved Joan seemed to be with the ceremony and the reverence with which various parts are observed. We were pleased to have had this very unique experience.
After returning to the jeep, Pradeep told us we would be driving to another village, about 30-45 minutes away, where we would wait for the others of the team who would meet us at the end of their trek.
We arrived at the gates leading into another temple – this one also dedicated to Lord Shiva, but was as ornate as the first temple had been stark. There was a Brahman priest at this temple, as well, but he had concluded the ritual bathing of the gods and so we missed that. However, in the heat, with the spilling of milk, honey, sugar, yogurt and cumin, onto the floor of the temple, the attraction to myriad flies is an understatement! A few minutes after removing our shoes and entering the temple, the others joined us from their trek over the mountains, and we were invited to visit with the head of the monastery and were taken to the upper apartment of the monk in charge of the monastery.There we were invited to sit on cushions and have tea with him, and we enjoyed speaking with him about myriad topics. He seemed most genial, although at times he appeared to be “drifting off” from our conversation. Perhaps it was just a momentary lapse, we were unsure. However, when we asked him whether or not he would ever be interested in traveling outside of India – perhaps to America or Great Britain, he told us he could never leave there. When asked why, he replied, “Because of my addiction.”
Pradeep, our host, then explained that this monk as totally cared for by the other younger priests at the temple, and that he has a constant supply of opium provided to him – consuming what appeared to be about the size of a pack of cigarettes of opium every day. That explained his drifting more clearly.When we departed from that temple, we climbed back into the jeep and then were driven back into the little village, where we were to have lunch at the home of one of the shepherds there. The villagers seemed curious but welcoming, and we all sat on woven beds on frames made of branches, underneath a roof of twigs and branches, to shield us from the hot sun. Once again, Pradeep’s wife had provided a wonderful lunch for us, served by Dinesh.
We rested after lunch and noticed that some of the children of the village sneaked up behind a hut near where we were sitting, and we waved to them and beckoned them to come closer. They were shy and hid back behind the hut. I asked Pradeep if he could ask the shepherd to invite the children or the ladies to come and sit by us and sing some songs. 
They did eventually come closer and sit in a group very close to us, with several of the ladies covering their faces with very colorful veils – a tradition for most women of the villages in Rajasthan in general, and Siana in particular.The group sang three or four songs and then gestured that we should do the same. We joined in a chorus of “You are My Sunshine”, much to their delight. Lunch and entertainment over, we then climbed back into the jeep for fairly far out into the dessert. It seemed as thought we were following paths – foot paths at best – further and further out into the dessert and away from any villages. In the distance, we saw about one hundred people working with shovels and pickaxes and hods (basins). As we drew closer, Pradeep told us about a water conservation project, where these folks were working to dig down areas of soil, approximately 15’ x 20’ and two feet in depth. They would then break up the clods of soil, which were almost like concrete, and carry hod after hod and dump onto a pie, which would serve as a dam to stop future floods in that region. In the past, the earthen dams were only two feet high, and they were constructing this one to be a minimum of four feet high, if not six feet. When the monsoons come, the series of dams, which covered several square miles, would slow down the flooding process, enough to be able to cause dissipation of the waters into the ground, thereby making it more fertile and able to be tilled for growing crops. Each of the laboring families – consisting of three or four people, was given the task of clearing the parcels in two days’ time, and would be paid in full an amount equivalent to $2.00 per day per person, IF the work was completed satisfactorily. If not, they would be paid on a pro-rata basis, but at a lesser rate overall.
The workers asked Pradeep if he would contact the government official who was responsible for paying them, as they had not been paid in four weeks. He immediately tried calling from his mobile phone, but was unable to contact the person. He promised to follow up on this the next day or two. We were all pretty impressed with the amount of work these people are doing – particularly the women – and recalled that only a few days prior, we were also carrying hods of dirt on our heads, so felt especially empathetic toward them.When we left there, we drove back toward our tent encampment, but got sidetracked along the way by a shepherd, who had recently seen a leopard, and, “Did we want to go leopard hunting again?” Of course we did, so we found Sarveer along one of the paths (it is remarkable how he and others just seemed to materialize when needed). He climbed aboard the jeep, with another two men – one would handle the spotlight and the other would track with Sarveer on foot. As I had earlier described Sarveer – he was tall, wearing the traditional dhoti and shirt-waistcoat, and his aqua turban. He had a wonderful, steady gait, almost gliding over the rough terrain, with little adjustment for obstacles. He simply moved ahead. His eyes were constantly moving about, and he obviously had keen hearing, as well.
At one point, Sarveer, almost in one fluid movement, climbed out of the back of the jeep and down onto the ground. He vanished into the brush and within a few moments came back into view, with his hand on the shoulder of a young man who was carrying a lamb. He then turned and walked with the young man off into the distance, returning about ten minutes later. When I asked Pradeep what Sarveer had done, he explained that the young man was from the neighboring village and was mentally retarded, and Sarveer was guiding him safely through that area, since he was carrying a lamb, and also was mentally challenged. With his same gentle smile, Sarveer returned to the jeep and climbed back in with us. We then traversed back and forth at the base of the hills, looking intently for the leopard. We continued this for about an hour, until darkness fell and we then used the search light to perhaps catch a glimpse of the leopard’s eyes, as the light passed by him. We did see eyes off in the distance, but never got any closer to the leopard. We returned to the campsite, had been joined by Pradeep’s brother, uncle and father for our social time, and then ate dinner and retired early.
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