- the Karni Mata temple, Deshnok (the 'rat temple')
- the world's busiest bus
- an impromptu church service
- being tailed in Bikaner
every now and then in India one has a day of events and experiences that probably could not have happened anywhere else. today was one of those days. before it was over we would have communed with rodents en masse, set a new world record for the number of people on one bus, joined a church sing-a-long and searched in vain for a tracking device hidden on our persons.
opting for a late breakfast and an earlier trip to avoid the heat, we set off for the Deshnok bus before 8. unlike Jaipur, the streets as this hour were quiet and the temperature relatively mild. a school bus was followed at regular intervals by rickshaws full of young uniformed boys and girls. we passed a tractor and trailer with men whose job it was to load up the detritus scraped out of the sewer runnels by the women, two really nasty occupations. we skirted one of the countless stray dogs chewing contemplatively on a dead rat. such sights one does not tend to see in England.
we walked up to where we thought the bus would let on passengers, a few people waiting confirming that this was the place. within minutes the bus had arrived and we were hustled on board with barely enough time to ask where it was going. the long single deck was already full, but we were ushered by a young man who would turn out to be the conductor and fare collector into the separate cab area at the front through a small hatch, where around half a dozen other people were already sitting with the garrulous driver. if we had thought that the bus was full, we were being rather naive - before long there were 10 of us plus the driver in the small space - but at least we got a good view of the road. although none of the all male company in the cab spoke any English whatsoever, they did not seem to mind us too much, the whole scene a very convivial one as these nine strangers chatted at length and with much laughter about this and that while we looked on.
we arrived in Deshnok 35 squashed minutes later and walked the short distance around a bend in the road in this small town to its main attraction, the Karni Mata temple (musophobics may not like the next few paragraphs and photos). it is not known as the rat temple because it is dedicated to rats - it is in fact dedicated to folk hero turned goddess Karniji, or Karni. no, it is known as the rat temple because it is full of sacred rats known as kabas, said to be reincarnated souls saved from the wrath of the god of death, Yama, with whom Karni had a bit of a spat. rich milk-based food and sweets are fed to the rodents every day, with fervent devotees eating the blessed food after their smaller temple dwellers have had a go, as well as daubing ash from a fire upon their heads.
being a sacred space, shoes and footwear are of course not allowed. we'd bought socks in Pushkar for the specific purpose of visiting Deshnok! however, we noticed many Indian women had also brought some to put on. unlike many temples in India, entry was free. like all temples in India nowadays, bringing a camera inside wasn't.
the white and rather wonderfully carved Italian marble gateway gives way to a small courtyard, with the shrine in front of you and a large area to your right. at first we could not see any rats at all. paradoxically, when you realised what you were looking for, they were everywhere, clustered in groups under pillars, occasionally scampering across the black and white cross-check marble floor. we were really concerned about treading on one, but not out of phobia - to do so results in the offending person quite seriously having to donate a solid gold model of a rat to the temple to placate the deity, and there was no way we had that kind of money!in the area to the right, men were mixing food and milk together in huge cauldron-like receptacles before doling it out to the rats in small metal bowls, on the edges of which they all perched and supped greedily.
it was certainly a little odd being around quite so many rats. considering the richness of their diet and its constant supply, it was a black surprise to see that so many of them were on their last legs and one in its death throes among many of their glossier, healthier counterparts.
no, not sure about this.
we walked into the shrine and around the central area, full of devotees. the rats were all around, alternating between appearing quite cute and decidedly unnerving.
rats on a door hung with string offerings.
at one point, one ran over Edd's stockinged foot - decidedly auspicious to the pilgrims, rather weird for him.
peekaboo!it's not a large temple, but we did spend a good amount of time there. emerging into the still 'cool' early morning, we stripped off our socks and vowed to never wear them again. as well as all of the serious pilgrims, we'd seen quite a lot of people not entirely sure about the temple, with some children in particular less than happy about posing for photos taken by their parents next to bowls of feeding rodents.
sweet shop - not for humans, to buy to give to the rats!
buses back to Bikaner leave from outside the temple, but they don't start there. when the first bus arrived, we could not see how we would get on it, but we were squeezed on anyway. with no seats, we were standing half way up the aisle when a man gave up his seat for Philippa, an unexpected act the likes of which we haven't seen that often in India, but it may also have been because we were Westerners. Philippa was then sitting next to an Indian woman totally shrouded in a veil, who was obviously uncomfortable sitting between her and the standing Edd. someone behind gave up their seat for this woman and Edd was ushered into the space next to Philippa by several people, all most generous, but also awkward.
if we had thought that the bus was full, we had not learned at all from our earlier trip. before we set off, we had two people in the one person-width aisle all the way down the bus and two people hanging off the outside. we stopped several times and picked up more people, so that were three across in the aisle. if the bus seated 50 or 60, we must have had over 150 people on it, no exaggeration. we will never complain about overcrowding in Britain again! after forcing all of these people on board, the conductor wasn't about to miss out on all the fares. climbing back in through the window from a position hanging on the side in transit, he then somehow managed to crowd surf around the bus, using head rests, legs and the odd lap, including Edd's. it was the most intense game of sardines imaginable.
after a prolonged hour of occasional stops and the almost gameshow-esque attempts of people trying to get off or on, we recognised our 'stop' and managed to barge our way off the bus. the conductor, still shepherding people on, smiled at us and said, 'Very good. Well done.'
we had managed to walk about 50 yards before a bright and smiley middle aged man with terrible, moving teeth pulled up on his motorbike and said hello. he had either seen us before or met other Westerners recently from what he was saying, we could not be sure, but he was some sort of musician and genuinely wanted to invite us for a cup of tea. still in a strange place after Deshnok, we agreed. fortunately we did not go too far, as he insisted we both go on his motorbike and Edd's weight alone seemed certain to overbalance it.
what then transpired was not at all what we had expected. our new friend's name was Safar and he wanted us to meet someone he referred to jokingly as 'Mother Theresa,' since she was some sort of leader or guru and they ran a small church hall for Catholics, as far as we could tell the only such venue in the city. as well as excellent tea and Ritz crackers - before which we said the Lord's Prayer, since Safar was quite enthusiastic about praying if we wished, even if we had never said to him that we were Catholic - we were then led into the main hall area. 'Mother Theresa' herself was great, old but still young at heart and dressed in washed out colours, she was a calm and steady counterpoint to Safar and full of little laughs and crackles of energy. she was amazed at Edd's size, saying of him 'You have the physical structure of a cricketer!' her own history was worthy of a biography. taught by Indira Ghandi, her father had manufactured some of the first sitars, or at least of a particular model. she had won several very high level medals for running and walking. additionally, she had published several religious books in Hindi about Christianity, including what was said to be the first ever book (in India) about the life of Christ, in 1998. she gave us a copy that she signed for us to give to a library back in the UK. quite a list of accomplishments, about which she was very modest indeed. then Safar plugged in an electronic keyboard, got out his harmonium and asked us to sing with him.
ordinarily, this is the kind of request that has one fleeing a room in a combination of fear, embarrassment and inadequacy, but Safar was such a good hearted - if rather wet - soul that we did not wish to disappoint. 'Mother Theresa' was not as fervent as he, despite clearly being the person in charge religiously, and was just happy to have us around. Safar was also quite a good harmonium player, too (the guys at the Pearl Palace could learn a lot from him). when a tambourine and other hand-held percussive instruments were tossed our way, we wondered with sideways glances just how long we'd be here. clearly used to leading others, we stumbled along behind Safar on intriguingly mangled versions of the Lord's Prayer and other distantly remembered plain songs set to music, hoping that we weren't offending any One much greater than ourselves who might be listening. our audience, however, was delighted, which was a relief.
after about four of these, Safar then asked us if we knew the song 'Kumbaya.' it was all that we could do to not burst out laughing and run away. we needn't have worried - like many of his other songs, he played a different tune to that which we were expecting, in this case also singing completely different words, with no hint of the terrifying chorus of many a childhood.
the impromptu jam session came to a merciful end and we said our goodbyes. with no hustling of any kind, Safar asked for a donation to the church and we were happy to give for all of their good natured and warm hospitality, even if 'Mother Theresa' did not really want to accept any such gift as suggested by her keener protégé.
finally making it the few hundred yards down the road to the hotel, we examined ourselves due to itching and discovered a spree of unknown insect or other bites on our feet and elsewhere from the bus journey. every time we take public transport in India, a new batch appears. no one ever mentions that in the guidebooks!
we had a late breakfast so tardy it was a lunch and had barely ordered when Rustam came in and sat down next to us. 'Remember me?' he asked. how could we not. we told him about our non-camel safari decision and he seemed to take it well. conversation then ran dry very quickly and we had to use a few direct questions to prise him from our side so that we could have a lunch for two rather than for three.
subsequent blogging and emailing meant that it was mid-afternoon before we got back to the hotel to rest after our odd morning. slowly walking out in the late afternoon / early evening, we toured the textile bazaar again and picked up a few items.
dried chillies in the market, Bikaner.
making outfits in the bazaar, Bikaner
up to the Kota Gate, Bikanerwe had finished what we ordered and were considering more when Safar appeared as well! where had they hidden the tracking devices? he was still on a happy high from our 'service' earlier in the day, bless him, and said that he'd like to take us out for tea and a good chat. his offer was kind and magnanimous, but we were tired and honestly could not face another hour of Christian talk with him, so we made our excuses and went home to the hotel, more conscious than ever of being the only Westerners we had seen for days.
it was nice to have met Safar and Bikaner does seem a very inclusive and friendly place, certainly almost hassle free when compared to the other, more tourist-exposed places we had been. the accumulation of today's events had tired us out mentally as well as physically, though, and we set the alarm late to assist in our recovery. dreams that night were numerous and understandably rather strange.
lots of love
edd & philippa
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