Oh my...it's been soooo long since I've blogged and there have been soooo many experiences in that time that it's hard to know where to begin. First of all, suffice it to say that I still love India. It is colorful, exotic, alive and exciting all while being infuriatingly un-Western on so many levels. Either you embrace India, bring your sense of humor and have a life-altering experience, or you measure it on familiar standards and go postively insane. I choose the former, and after now spending a total of four months in this country of 1.2 billion people, I can't wait to come back again and again.
This trip has been both familiar and entirely new for me. My amazing friend Gerdien (who I traveled with for nearly five months on my previous journey) came to meet me and we traveled together for nearly three weeks through Rajasthan, with a brief detour up to Amritsar in Punjab. We had a predictably hilarious and adventurous experience, and I can vow that I know what it must be like to travel with Brittany Spears! Gerdiens blonde hair and big blue eyes stop Indians in their tracks, leading to many hilarious encounters.
But India's new experiences will be the focus of this post.
Rajasthan and the Golden Triangle -- On my previous journey, I only spent time in three cities - Varanasi, Bodhgaya and Calcutta. My focus of this trip was to further explore the north part of the country. This was for two reasons - to have fun and experience new places and to create new itineraries for Grand Asian Journeys.
And I did both (New itineraries to be posted soon). Rajasthan means the "land of rajas (or kings) and therefore a big part of touring the northwestern part of the country is visiting the forts and palaces of the historic rajas. Also in Rajasthan, the culture and food are distinct from other parts of India. They still make it easy to be a vegetarian, but parathas replace chapati and naan as the roti (bread) of choice. My favorite places were Udaipur, Jaisalmer and Mandawa. The Amber Fort in Jaipur is also a pretty exceptional destination. Which leads me to my least favorite place in Rajasthan...
Tourist attack at the Taj Mahal - On my previous journey to India, I intentionally skipped the Taj Mahal. This time I knew I needed to visit it as it is one of the top tourist destinations in the world and certainly will be on the wishlist of many people visiting India. My vote: over-rated. Beautiful, yes. But the most beautiful or worthy place in India? No way. Too crowded, too much security, too many lines. The Golden Temple gets my vote for best place to visit.
Finding peace amid chaos: The Golden Temple -- The "vatican for Sikhs", the Golden Temple in Amritsar is one of the most magical, holy places I have ever visited. In order to arrive at this beautiful temple however you have to make your way through one of the busiest, most polluted small cities in India. Amritsar is total chaos! And, the Golden Temple is Absolute Peace. Unlike the Taj Mahal, which is essentially a very exquisite mausoleum built for a rich guy's dead wife, the Golden Temple is an active place of worship. Hundreds of thousands of Sikhs from all over the world come every single day to bathe in the "amrit" (sacred water) around the temple. And the Sikhs are so unlike the stereotype that haunts them. They are kind, generous, non-judgmental, service-oriented ("sehwah" or service to others is the central tenet of their faith) and peace-loving. Unlike all other temples in India that charge up to $20US to visit, the Golden Temple is free to enter (donations are of course accepted) and they will serve a free meal to anyone who walks in. Every day it's estimated that they serve 50,000 free meals to people of all faiths, castes (they do not believe in the caste system), color or need. This is near the top of my list of worthwhile places to visit in India!
Having a business card - For nearly three of my five weeks in India, I traveled with our India travel agent as a part of a FAM (travel industry lingo for familiarization) tour. This was a very new experience for me as it operates very much like a custom tour with all hotels, experiences, transportation, transfers and meals arranged in advance. I felt like a princess! At each hotel, the manager would come out to personally greet me, give me a tour, offer dinner or other special things. My Grand Asian Journeys business card was the key to really royal treatment! Definitely much different than haggling over prices at backpackers hotels with Gerdien!
Sexy temples - Another of my "must visit" destinations in India are the temples of Khajuraho. Created over 1,000 years ago of sandstone, somehow they survived neglect for hundreds of years and have remained absolutely stunning. Set in a peaceful town (there are not many of these in India) and a bit off the beaten path, the temples are worth making a special trip for - especially if you think that the Indians are sexually repressed people! The temples origin is unknown, but some say that it was the "sex education" temple. Certainly that could be true with probably millions of detailed risque sculptures around the complex.
Traveling with a man! -- Some of you know that my boyfriend Keith met me to travel for five weeks through India and Vietnam. That is certainly a new experience worth mentioning! The only awkward part was that people in India assumed that we were married as it is not a normal custom to even see each other before you are married there! The experience has been (and continues to be) a lot of fun for both of us, and yes it is a great way to get to know each other very well!
Indian wedding -- No, it wasn't mine though apparently I did unknowingly undertake a wedding ritual in Varanasi. A simple photo opportunity of some women painting their feet red, turned into my feet being painted, a tikka on my forehead part near my hairline, and voila! I was congratulated for the rest of the day on my marriage, and the hotel staff even asked me to bring sweets (a wedding custom). No, it was not official!
But enough about my supposed wedding. One of my intentions for this trip (but that I was unable to plan for) was to attend an Indian wedding. A major event in Indian life, weddings are planned for auspicious dates based on matching astrological charts by families. Often the couples do not ever see each other before they are tying the knot. A strange custom on Western standards, but as the divorce rates are about 80% less than in Western cultures, perhaps they are onto something?
So, back to my story... we show up at a hotel to outrageous fanfare - drumming, dancing, flowers, food and drinks just for us. After getting over the somewhat awkward welcoming (it was only for the two of us) we were told that there was to be a wedding that night in the village of a girl who worked at their resort. She (16) and her sister (13) were having a double wedding. As they were lower caste people of modest economic status, it was not the huge to-do that I had heard about. Instead, it was maybe even more authentic!
Chaos abounded when we arrived. Drunk men played loud music and danced. And after about 12 seconds, our presence was noticed and the entire focus of the wedding turned to Keith and me. The brides were dragged out of their safe house and "introduced" to us. There were lots of namastes and smiles from us, and utter fear from the brides while dozens of people surrounded us and watched the introduction. The grooms sat on a county fair style electric float with loud Hindi music blaring out of the ill-equipped speaker. Drunk men mobbed us and pulled us on the muddy dance floor. We took turns being in the middle of a circle and acting out some Bollywood dance that we'd seen on TV, and then pointing to someone not inside the circle to come in and outdo us (not a difficult task!). The scenario went back and forth for about 45 minutes until we were dragged by our guest house hosts to the point of the wedding. A strange tradition that involved the groom using a long stick to knock down a tall sign on a stick being held by someone else (don't ask me) apparently indicated that the marriage was official. It became clear to us that our presence was taking attention away from the brides and grooms, so we left shortly after the "ceremony".
Oh, certainly the turbans that had been tied on our heads at the guest house right before the wedding helped us blend in a little too. Yes?
Festival of lights in Varanasi - You might remember that my favorite city in India is Varanasi. It's so deeply spiritual, magnificently poor and undeniably electric. It can move me to tears and goosebumps on a normal day, but we arrived on a ab-normal day: Dev Dipawali. "The festival of lights for God" we were told upon arrival at the airport was the "best night of the year" here, and the local agent had arranged for a nighttime boat ride for Keith and me. As dusk approached and we headed towards the ghats (the steps along the river) we saw thousands (perhaps millions) of small butter lamps being laid out artfully along the sacred Ganges River as an offering to God. As we got on our small private row boat with our guide, the banks of the river came alive with light. Rowing past the burning ghats, the cremation sites for 1,000 people a day, the pyres alive with death, the butter lamps burned on the banks of the river, illuminating the night sky. Music played from the evening "aarti" as thousands of boats crowded around the stage. It was an indescribably religious experience!
The "accidental Brazilian" -Lets just say that getting a bikini wax with your underwear on is one of the riskiest adventures I faced in India. 'Nuf said.
So, I sign off from Vietnam after three full days here. That update will be in the next blog post, hopefully before I get home on Dec. 17!
Happy holidays to you and your families...
With love,
Pam
Friday, November 26, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
My love-hate-love relationship with India
Everyday, every minute, India rocks your beliefs about the way the world is supposed to operate. The words of my shaman teacher float though my mind constantly. "Be open to outcome, not attached to outcome" seems to be the only way through preconceived notions, opinions and attachments. Yesterday I had two distinct experiences that dragged me through the spectrum of tears, frustration and Indian culture.
Situation #1: Tiger, an Indian shop owner, invited Gerdien and me in for chai. He was a young guy and had lived in Europe for a few months so his English was quite good for he was able to engage in a complex conversation. As a sociologist, Gerdien is really observant of the people in the places we visit and I really appreciate this about her. We'd both noticed a relative "shortage" of disabled people in Rajasthan (as opposed to some other regions we'd visited) and she'd also noticed very few mentally ill people on the streets. So she asked him and thus began the conversation that was to make me cry.
"Indians don't need to have mental institutions because our families take care of us. If someone in our family or village is sick or has problems, we all take care of the problem and support each other." He talked about the loneliness that he witnessed in Belgium and he sees in American culture too. He commented that westerners are seemingly more concerned with having the latest things than in supporting our own families through difficult times like aging and sickness. Gerdien asked about medication for depression and if it's a normal prescribed remedy for a common ailment. "No! We take the person into our house and take care of them until they are well. We have no need for medications. We have family." He talked about how so many young Indians idolize western life, and he's concerned that the western way of treating our families will follow suit.
The conversation just rocked me...it's a way of living, being and caring that they have for each other. And it's their culture. How different would our world be if we all lived like this?
Situation #2: We made a reservation to tour the prestigious Lake Palace in Udaipur. We were to arrive around 5pm, have a tour and then watch the sunset. (If you have ever seen James Bond's Octopussy, then you're familiar with Udaipur and the Lake Palace. It's stunning!) So at 4:15 we begin making our way to the boat jetty to catch the small ferry to the island retreat. The conversations we have go something like this:
"It's that way. But if you go this way it will cost you 80% less." (That boat doesn't go to the Lake Palace.)
"You have to go to the Palace Museum to get the boat. You have to buy a ticket to get into the museum to get the boat." (My contact at the hotel did not mention a ticket or a fee so I'm skeptical.)
"The Palace Museum closes at 4:30 so you can not get the boat." (The website says that boat runs 24 hours.)
"You have to phone the Lake Palace and tell them that you are coming so you can get on their security list." (I've done that.) "You have to call them." (I've already done that.) "You need to call them before you buy the ticket." (The ticket that they are unwilling to sell me because it's after 4:30).
I get frustrated, fueled by my first cup of coffee in months, and call my contact at the Lake Palace again to tell them that I'm having a difficult time getting through security. He says, "You only need to go to Bari..." and then silence. My phone battery dies. I try to start it so that I can get the number at least before calling back from the office where I'm sitting, but the phone won't boot.
Next, we're told we don't need to buy tickets but we have to stop at the security office. Like so many Indian offices, this one has eight men sitting in a small room and only one is at a computer. He's busily looking at some Hindi writing on a logbook that looks at least 20 years old trying to answer my question. He gets an email so he's reading it, then the phone rings - at least 10 times - and he finally answers it while all the other seemingly not busy men don't even wince. Then his cell phone rings so he now has two phone conversations going simultaneously (all in Hindi so unfortunately I can't understand them) and I assume he's trying to get my passage through the gate. He hangs up the phones and pulls out the "Security Ticket" book that I assume we're waiting for. He writes the pass, though it takes him another five minutes to sign the ticket as the phones start ringing again and, again, he is the only one in the room interested in touching a phone.
With our pass finally in hand, he tells us with a typical Indian hand gesture using the back of his hand, "Go there". "Where?" I ask. He does it again. "Will you show us?" (at this point it's been an hour of frustration and the thought of getting lost makes me want to scream). He does it again. Finally I grab the arm of the nearest security guard and say, "Please show me where" quite adamantly. And he does. And I turn and offer him a "Namaste" with hands in prayer pose.
Peace. Indian style.
After all of that, we did make it to the Lake Palace and WOW! It is a remarkable old maharaja's palace that was converted to become a hotel in 1962. It's got 17th century splendor and 22nd century prices.
We have three cocktails each. For India.
Situation #1: Tiger, an Indian shop owner, invited Gerdien and me in for chai. He was a young guy and had lived in Europe for a few months so his English was quite good for he was able to engage in a complex conversation. As a sociologist, Gerdien is really observant of the people in the places we visit and I really appreciate this about her. We'd both noticed a relative "shortage" of disabled people in Rajasthan (as opposed to some other regions we'd visited) and she'd also noticed very few mentally ill people on the streets. So she asked him and thus began the conversation that was to make me cry.
"Indians don't need to have mental institutions because our families take care of us. If someone in our family or village is sick or has problems, we all take care of the problem and support each other." He talked about the loneliness that he witnessed in Belgium and he sees in American culture too. He commented that westerners are seemingly more concerned with having the latest things than in supporting our own families through difficult times like aging and sickness. Gerdien asked about medication for depression and if it's a normal prescribed remedy for a common ailment. "No! We take the person into our house and take care of them until they are well. We have no need for medications. We have family." He talked about how so many young Indians idolize western life, and he's concerned that the western way of treating our families will follow suit.
The conversation just rocked me...it's a way of living, being and caring that they have for each other. And it's their culture. How different would our world be if we all lived like this?
Situation #2: We made a reservation to tour the prestigious Lake Palace in Udaipur. We were to arrive around 5pm, have a tour and then watch the sunset. (If you have ever seen James Bond's Octopussy, then you're familiar with Udaipur and the Lake Palace. It's stunning!) So at 4:15 we begin making our way to the boat jetty to catch the small ferry to the island retreat. The conversations we have go something like this:
"It's that way. But if you go this way it will cost you 80% less." (That boat doesn't go to the Lake Palace.)
"You have to go to the Palace Museum to get the boat. You have to buy a ticket to get into the museum to get the boat." (My contact at the hotel did not mention a ticket or a fee so I'm skeptical.)
"The Palace Museum closes at 4:30 so you can not get the boat." (The website says that boat runs 24 hours.)
"You have to phone the Lake Palace and tell them that you are coming so you can get on their security list." (I've done that.) "You have to call them." (I've already done that.) "You need to call them before you buy the ticket." (The ticket that they are unwilling to sell me because it's after 4:30).
I get frustrated, fueled by my first cup of coffee in months, and call my contact at the Lake Palace again to tell them that I'm having a difficult time getting through security. He says, "You only need to go to Bari..." and then silence. My phone battery dies. I try to start it so that I can get the number at least before calling back from the office where I'm sitting, but the phone won't boot.
Next, we're told we don't need to buy tickets but we have to stop at the security office. Like so many Indian offices, this one has eight men sitting in a small room and only one is at a computer. He's busily looking at some Hindi writing on a logbook that looks at least 20 years old trying to answer my question. He gets an email so he's reading it, then the phone rings - at least 10 times - and he finally answers it while all the other seemingly not busy men don't even wince. Then his cell phone rings so he now has two phone conversations going simultaneously (all in Hindi so unfortunately I can't understand them) and I assume he's trying to get my passage through the gate. He hangs up the phones and pulls out the "Security Ticket" book that I assume we're waiting for. He writes the pass, though it takes him another five minutes to sign the ticket as the phones start ringing again and, again, he is the only one in the room interested in touching a phone.
With our pass finally in hand, he tells us with a typical Indian hand gesture using the back of his hand, "Go there". "Where?" I ask. He does it again. "Will you show us?" (at this point it's been an hour of frustration and the thought of getting lost makes me want to scream). He does it again. Finally I grab the arm of the nearest security guard and say, "Please show me where" quite adamantly. And he does. And I turn and offer him a "Namaste" with hands in prayer pose.
Peace. Indian style.
After all of that, we did make it to the Lake Palace and WOW! It is a remarkable old maharaja's palace that was converted to become a hotel in 1962. It's got 17th century splendor and 22nd century prices.
We have three cocktails each. For India.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Thar She Blows: An Indian Desert Experience
Taking a three day camel safari through the Thar Desert of Rajasthan we knew was a risky undertaking. We'd been warned...snakes, scorpions, moody camels, sunburns, bad guides, stomach ailments, boredom were all listed. But Gerdien and I wanted three full days, off the tourist track and not with other tourists so we went looking. The first person we met when looking was Sobhu, with Shera Travels (dial his India mobile 96727-63833). He runs the Temple View Guest House in Jaisalmer and just happened to be returning from the market with an armful of vegetables when we paused outside near his sign which was advertising "Honest fair pricing."
Sobhu charmed us with his gentle kindness and sweet smile. He was not pushy like so many other wallahs we'd been meeting, and showed up pictures of camping under the stars on the sand and small desert villages. He talked about the chapatis he'd make us for lunch and dinner and the ample supply of fresh fruit and bottled water he'd bring. And his prices were indeed beyond fair (about $75 each for the experience including tips.) So we signed up, risks and all, and put our trust in this man who promised to keep us safe above all else.
We began at what can only be called a desert house. It was isolated for miles and miles each direction and there were two goats and one cow outside. The mama was churning goat butter and making ghee while the three adorable children found delight in my camera, despite their shyness. It was built with dung, was open to the elements except for a small covered area and included everything they needed to survive. The youngest boy, maybe 4, walked right up to our camels and seemed to know how to touch them. It was crazy to see such a small child not be afraid of such a large animal!
The day began with clouds and a nice breeze. I even had to wear a long sleeve shirt to keep warm (maybe 60 degrees with wind?) A good omen for our travels they said. (They is Sobhu, our guide, and Puna, our camel driver). We lunched (vegetable curry and chapati) at a simple sandy spot with some shade as the sun had made an appearance with a vengeance! It'd gotten downright hot. And it was here that I stumbled upon an amazing fossil as well, worth $100 to the locals at least. It's got at least 10 three dimensional plant impressions in one 4" x 5" piece. It's stunning! Needless to say, it's coming home with me.
We camped that night with sunshine and more stars than I've ever seen. Sobhu took us on a night camel ride. The camels were very obedient and massively enormous, so the simple and frequent task of getting on and off was cause for frequent fits of laughter. And riding was a bit like riding a horse, but more awkward. Because of the hump the saddle is always slightly leaning forward creating an experience where holding on is very important. After the first hour, we had to get off and walk for two hours, to stretch our aching legs! Subsequent days got easier on the legs and harder on the back, but no major episodes of pain to report, thankfully.
On day two, the day started with sunshine but around lunch time when we were desperately hot and dying to find a shade tree to dine under, Sobhu - himself a man of the desert - announced that rain was coming. It seemed impossible to believe since there had been a three year drought until the past summer. And it's not the rainy season.
First the wind came. It felt like a welcome relief and we happily ate our lunch feeling a bit cooler than the 100+ degree temperature we'd been experiencing that morning. Then the sand storm came. Interesting for me, but dreadful on Gerdien's eyes and contacts. So we faced away from the sand and waited for what was next.
Then the rain came and the guides darted up and called after us to come quickly. They'd built a quick makeshift shelter with a plastic tarp that covered our things with room for us to hide too. It provided an awesome experience for us to experience the desert! The boys sang desert songs to us, and we sang whatever we could muster and both knew the words of. They loved hearing our songs and voices and kept asking for more.
Then we ran out of songs. What to do? Play Truth or Dare, of course! The dares included running out in the rain, from the safety of our tarped abode, and doing kartwheels, dancing, and even farting. Everyone laughed so hard and soon enough the rains were gone. Sunshine appeared from behind the clouds and we watched the weather move across the desert sky quickly. Sobhu emphatically said that we were a blessing to the desert and brought good luck to all the people of the desert. It was a nice vision and I didn't question it. :-)
Right after the storm passed we finally left our lunch spot, albeit about 2 hours late to make our camp for that night. The guides rode together on one camel in front and tied our camels behind theirs. After about five minutes of walking my camel, Papu, got spooked and tried to buck me off. Completely caught off guard I had a hard time holding on and my grip kept coming loose. Of course I screamed and Sobhu, who'd promised to keep me safe at all costs watched in horror for what was probably two seconds, before shouting a command for the camel to stop. I'd been bucked at least three or four times, and was one buck away from falling nine feet to the hard packed rocky desert floor and landing on my head and getting danced on by an obviously angry camel. I don't want to think about what could have happened. But I was safe, thank God, Buddha, Shiva and all else involved in the miraculous recovery. I rode the rest of the day on the back of Sobhu's camel Rocket, who thankfully didn't show his speed to me for which he is named.
We slept so soundly, long and surprisingly peacefully underneath that stars and with the cool night air surrounding us. Despite my fears all I could feel when the sun went down was peace and happiness. Nothing was going to keep me from the deep dreams induced by the desert.
We had an amazing time, toured several desert family homes, visited a village abandoned 400 years ago because of a marriage dispute, and didn't see another single tourist during our entire journey. It was exactly what we'd hoped for, and more than we expected!
I'm left feeling grateful for the experience and for Sobhu keeping his promise to keep us safe. The desert is vast, powerful and awe-some and it left me wanting more sandy adventures!
Sobhu charmed us with his gentle kindness and sweet smile. He was not pushy like so many other wallahs we'd been meeting, and showed up pictures of camping under the stars on the sand and small desert villages. He talked about the chapatis he'd make us for lunch and dinner and the ample supply of fresh fruit and bottled water he'd bring. And his prices were indeed beyond fair (about $75 each for the experience including tips.) So we signed up, risks and all, and put our trust in this man who promised to keep us safe above all else.
We began at what can only be called a desert house. It was isolated for miles and miles each direction and there were two goats and one cow outside. The mama was churning goat butter and making ghee while the three adorable children found delight in my camera, despite their shyness. It was built with dung, was open to the elements except for a small covered area and included everything they needed to survive. The youngest boy, maybe 4, walked right up to our camels and seemed to know how to touch them. It was crazy to see such a small child not be afraid of such a large animal!
The day began with clouds and a nice breeze. I even had to wear a long sleeve shirt to keep warm (maybe 60 degrees with wind?) A good omen for our travels they said. (They is Sobhu, our guide, and Puna, our camel driver). We lunched (vegetable curry and chapati) at a simple sandy spot with some shade as the sun had made an appearance with a vengeance! It'd gotten downright hot. And it was here that I stumbled upon an amazing fossil as well, worth $100 to the locals at least. It's got at least 10 three dimensional plant impressions in one 4" x 5" piece. It's stunning! Needless to say, it's coming home with me.
We camped that night with sunshine and more stars than I've ever seen. Sobhu took us on a night camel ride. The camels were very obedient and massively enormous, so the simple and frequent task of getting on and off was cause for frequent fits of laughter. And riding was a bit like riding a horse, but more awkward. Because of the hump the saddle is always slightly leaning forward creating an experience where holding on is very important. After the first hour, we had to get off and walk for two hours, to stretch our aching legs! Subsequent days got easier on the legs and harder on the back, but no major episodes of pain to report, thankfully.
On day two, the day started with sunshine but around lunch time when we were desperately hot and dying to find a shade tree to dine under, Sobhu - himself a man of the desert - announced that rain was coming. It seemed impossible to believe since there had been a three year drought until the past summer. And it's not the rainy season.
First the wind came. It felt like a welcome relief and we happily ate our lunch feeling a bit cooler than the 100+ degree temperature we'd been experiencing that morning. Then the sand storm came. Interesting for me, but dreadful on Gerdien's eyes and contacts. So we faced away from the sand and waited for what was next.
Then the rain came and the guides darted up and called after us to come quickly. They'd built a quick makeshift shelter with a plastic tarp that covered our things with room for us to hide too. It provided an awesome experience for us to experience the desert! The boys sang desert songs to us, and we sang whatever we could muster and both knew the words of. They loved hearing our songs and voices and kept asking for more.
Then we ran out of songs. What to do? Play Truth or Dare, of course! The dares included running out in the rain, from the safety of our tarped abode, and doing kartwheels, dancing, and even farting. Everyone laughed so hard and soon enough the rains were gone. Sunshine appeared from behind the clouds and we watched the weather move across the desert sky quickly. Sobhu emphatically said that we were a blessing to the desert and brought good luck to all the people of the desert. It was a nice vision and I didn't question it. :-)
Right after the storm passed we finally left our lunch spot, albeit about 2 hours late to make our camp for that night. The guides rode together on one camel in front and tied our camels behind theirs. After about five minutes of walking my camel, Papu, got spooked and tried to buck me off. Completely caught off guard I had a hard time holding on and my grip kept coming loose. Of course I screamed and Sobhu, who'd promised to keep me safe at all costs watched in horror for what was probably two seconds, before shouting a command for the camel to stop. I'd been bucked at least three or four times, and was one buck away from falling nine feet to the hard packed rocky desert floor and landing on my head and getting danced on by an obviously angry camel. I don't want to think about what could have happened. But I was safe, thank God, Buddha, Shiva and all else involved in the miraculous recovery. I rode the rest of the day on the back of Sobhu's camel Rocket, who thankfully didn't show his speed to me for which he is named.
We slept so soundly, long and surprisingly peacefully underneath that stars and with the cool night air surrounding us. Despite my fears all I could feel when the sun went down was peace and happiness. Nothing was going to keep me from the deep dreams induced by the desert.
We had an amazing time, toured several desert family homes, visited a village abandoned 400 years ago because of a marriage dispute, and didn't see another single tourist during our entire journey. It was exactly what we'd hoped for, and more than we expected!
I'm left feeling grateful for the experience and for Sobhu keeping his promise to keep us safe. The desert is vast, powerful and awe-some and it left me wanting more sandy adventures!
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