Purring in Udaipur

A post filled with stories, so she asks. Well here you go Alana, I'll try and cram as many interesting incidents into this one post wihtout boring the shit out of you, and also without incriminating myself... ahem.

I'm am writing from a gorgeous city named Udaipur, and I must admit it is one of the most beautiful cities of Rajasthan, and perhaps for most of the trip (excluding Dharmasala. That was magic. But enough about that!) It is (what a surprise, like Dharmasala) a hill station set in the mountains of this province, Rajasthan. The terrain varies across this province - from dusty polluted cities, to an oasis in the middle of the desert (Pushkar) to camel safaris in the sand dunes of the real desert, to this hill station of Udapiur, and all its majestic palaces.

But stories, she asks? Ok, let me pull some from the furthest corners of my memory... Pushkar evoked a series of different emotions from Nechama and I. This was the place we spent Yom Kippur - I find fasting difficult in Melbourne, especially towards the last couple hours - but here? In Pushkar? In the middle of a frickin desert? No water? What the? We arrived the day before the festival, and shopped within the sprawling marketplace and got cheated by Brahmin 'priests' promising blessings for our family in return for a nice donation. "But I don't believe in your god" - that doesn't work either, for "everyone's gods are the same -it's just different ways to reach up there" was the reply. Laden with flowers, rice, red and saffron coloured powder I threw caution (and the 'gifts') into the holy water of Pushkar. I understand that I prombably commited idolatry, but in my heart I didn't believeI word I was saying. The ideal situation the day of Erev Yom Kippur. Such a heathen I've become.

The meal before the fast was relaxed and comforting - most of the Israelis wore white and we ate in the back garden of the Chabad shule. The services were quite nice, a little different from Shira Hadasha but what can you do.

But stories - hrmm... that night we met up with an Indian who we previousdly met in Jaipur. He was a funny guy, 31 years old but acting like a little boy - he had just discovered alchohol three months ago. Now he's on a mission to drink for the next three - because "it's so much fun!" Excited and jittery like a toddler discovering a new toy, we learnt that he had smuggled meat and whiskey into the town (as Pushkar is a very holy city, no meat, alchohol or eggs are allowed to be brought into the city). He revelaed to us that six years ago he used to read palms, and then proceeded the read Nechama's palm... We have never been so freaked out. So apt, and we gave nothing away. I am usually quite cynical in situations like this - but when he was massaging her neck to get the 'bad energy' (or STRESS) his hand became white and his arm numb. It was freaky!

Ok, gotta run. Thinking of you all xx