Emails
from India 1 | 2 |
3 | 4 | 5 BREAKFAST CLUB GOES ON CAMEL SAFARI ‘Shit with a
view’-you crouch down to do your business behind a sage bush. The
sun sets over the desert. Strategically you wipe and like a cat, you bury
your toiletries in the sand. It is the end of today's camel riding. In Jaisalmer, five
backpackers met over Thali to sign up for a 4 day camel safari. The Breakfast
Club goes on a camel safari included: Paul-the athletic Kiwi(who prefers
to be called a New Zealander), personal trainer restlessly nomadic challenges
continents. Pat-The-Patty who covers his face with 1500 SPF sun block
rides his camel resembling a geisha hides behind his laughter. Felix-the
meticulous German student/soon-to-be-accountant looking for perfection
and finding it in Indian saffron lassies. Sarah-the English teacher removed
to Istanbul and in a beautiful proper British accent, self-conscious of
her over-respect of others exclaims, "I don't mean to sound mean."
And me, Angie-the loud, arrogant Yank. I realize I have lived up to the
American stereotype quite nicely. My friend Rick once said, ‘We have roughly 24 hours worth of material and then it becomes difficult not to start repeating ourselves with the same stories over and over.’ I suppose we each have our personal favorite tales to tell especially amongst new victims. For the next few days we lay horizontal on our blankets looking up at the stars, watching the moon rise over the sandy horizon and revealing ourselves to our new travel companions. Bonding with strangers is part of the charm in traveling. We found ourselves engaged in strange activities for entertainment in the desert. On the first day we held contests of balancing chi cups on top of our heads while walking down a sand dune. By the second day we began to help collect heaps of camel dung for tonight's camp fire. Washing the dishes with sand rather than water seemed like a normal chore by the third day. By the end of the trip, we were riding our half galloping camels and singing ‘Country Roads’ with our camel guides. As in the movie, Breakfast
Club, one member of our crew must leave early. Sarah jumped off her camel
and into a jeep saying she'll write. Pat pleaded for her to stay on as
the guides hyped up the Japanese imitations. "Aaaahhhhh-Wheelreey,
Ahhhh-soooo. Eets-sa veeddy veeddy nicce-ah!" Ganpat yiped over and
over, giggling. Shortly after Sarah left, Pat's farting camel sneezed out a maggot from his nostril. He investigated and hollered, ‘Hey, maybe Sarah will come out of the other one.’ We began on our 3rd day with Ganpat and Mahendre singing their campfire song, "Dough-ee, Dukey-Doe". Pat and Paul put on more sun block. Felix looking like the Marlbourough man in his leather hat had a grin of true bliss. I fidgeted around cross-legged like a Maharani on a camel jaunt between the thorn bushes. We returned to our
temporary home, Jaisalmer and realized we really were never too far from
the road. "Awww. Don't tell us that," I said. ‘I liked
living in illusion, as life is much happier that way.’ Pat also
an artist disguised as a banker, agreed. Like bus passengers looking for
bushes on a pee break, we went off in our own direction and I felt a bit
sad our temporary club has ended so soon. Of course, you can not have a real Breakfast Club without the high school crush. We teased Pat that maybe he'd hook up with Sarah and they'd marry. We had a goodbye dinner with our camel guides. Afterwards, Mahendre ‘secretly’ handed me a note complete with love poem, confessions and promises to write.
|
|
||