Rajasthan

We rolled into rajasthan on a late afternoon breeze. The sun, shining behind an isolated hill that shot up from the desert horizon like a carefully sculpted shrine, painted the sky in silky pastel hues. Wooden carts pulled by sometimes lavishly decorated camels passed by with seemingly euridite expressions on their faces. Trotting along, the bells on their ankles created a steady rhythm, one much more earthly and comforting than that created by the roar of the diesel engine and the grinding of the transmission as the bus driver shifted gears - dodging cows, shepherds, pedestrians, head-on traffic, and the very camels that I just spoke of.
We passed by local villagers working the land. Women in bright red dresses embroidered with silver beads and small round mirrors, and men in loose, light cotton clothing with rather large turbans wrapped around their heads...children walking home for the day from school in the uniforms, laughing and talking amongst each other. The younger ones play together in the dusty fields with sticks, rocks, insects, animals, and whatever else catches their attention. The air, crisp and cool, is invigirating.

India, very much microcosom of the present social, economic, political, and environmental state of the planet, is a land of contrast. Rajasthan is no exception. Just as the vibrant blue skies are accentuated by the barren, arid landscape and rocky hills, complementing on another in their opposing textures - elaborate palaces and tamples co-exist in harmony with the simple dwellings made of mud, straw, stone, and dung. Shanty towns and shawdy cement constructions co-exist with luxurious five star hotels. Kings and priests, descendants of lineages and bloodlines thousands of years old, co-exist with peasants, gypsies, laborers, merchants, and international tourists. And not to forget the multitude of cultural and religious traditions which live together here..Hindu, Christian, Muslium, Buddhust, Jain...for the most part peacefully, and only occasionally in disturbing outbreaks of obscene violence.

It is a community of human and animal - monkeys, ravens, elephants, dogs, camels, pigeons, cats, cows, rats, snakes, and god knows what else, living together amidst the stone rubble and tatered pages of the traditions of the past and the ever increasing chaos and convenience of modern life. It is not rare to see a rickshaw driver, most of whom sleep in their small 3 wheeled vehicles, with mobile phones. Every few kilometers Internet access and ATM's are found just nearly as often as the many temples and open aired banquet halls made for the multitude of marriages (both arranged and "love") that occur daily in the busteling city of Jaipur, Rajasthans capital.

The charm of this city, home to over 2 million people and 10,000 cows (not an official count), could be a bit hard to discern at first glance. Especially by the weary traveler, tired from marathon bus and./or train rides and transglobal flights, the constant haggeling over prices for food, housing, and transportationm and the aggressive retailers, and beggars, who pester foreigners with a voracious appetite for the foreign currency that generously translates into the rupees that overflow from their pockets and hidden money belts. That was me...i was that weary traveler...but by no means can I claim that experience as something exclusively my own. For, I can say with certainty that all who have been called to explore India from afar have felt this. For some it passes...they begin to catch the rhythm and learn to move in sync with the chaos of it all, becoming a transformative, mind expanding experience...for others it does not. They leave disillusioned and tired, with a suitcase full of beautiful fabrics, a belly full of parasites and perhaps a few nice photos of cows, temples, and sadhus, never wishing to return. I came back. Although I have had moments, upon first arriving, when I wondered why I chose to subject myself again to the insanity that danced around me, I now remeber why I came...or rather...am being reminded just what it is i came looking for.

After a few days of waundering deleriously through the streets of Jaipur, and a few nights of much needed rest to recover from the intensity of my Amaravati experience, there was a shift. Driving along in the rickshaw, through the heart of the afternoon traffic i realized that oddly enough, I was completely relaxed. Instead of seeing only the crumbeling walls and the piles of cow dug and putrifying garbage littering the streets and alleyways, the lack of sanitation, the throngs of people husteling about with seemingly no hope of any decent future...instead...I saw the smiles. I saw a sea of color, the vibrant patterns of the saris as much as the multicolored textures of the trash, that formed this vibrant three-dimensional mural. The horns, the shouts, the bells...became music. Much like Miles Davis lost in spontanous composition during one of his LSD inspired performances, the rhythm seemed non-existant...incoherent...but regardless you know it's there and it grabs you from the inside out...taking you deep inside, frustrating and teasing you, and finally liberating you all in the same moment. I had, after 17 days, finally arrived in India.