Camel Safari in Jaisalmer

We sped away in jeeps, about an hour outside of Jaisalmer, and turned onto a dirt road. Not too far in the distance, a herd of camels and their drivers awaited us and helped us mount onto our camels. These desert wayfarers travel slowly, at a walking pace, and we city slickers marvel at the occassional antelope, lost dog, and thristy cow. I get the sense that we have not strayed very far from civilazation, as we can track power lines not too far from 0ur trail. We arrive at camp after two hours of trodding in the warm afternoon sun, greeted by wild dogs, and desert tribesmen who were hand kneading the dough and stirring the curry for our supper. I play in the sand, find a handy bush, sip beer as I watch the golden sun descend into the horizon, casting a warm orange and pink glow into the skies.

Our camel guides bake bread in the ashes of cow patties, where fat patties of dough are first dropped into the fire, and after about 20 minutes, covered in the ashes, a delicacy I call "poopy bread." They serve us a vegetarian thali dinner of desert beans, cauliflower curry, rice, chapati (unleavened flatbread), poopy bread (without the ashes), and a sweet milky-tasting dessert. After dinner, we all sit by the campfire and listen to our guides as they bang on empty plastic containers like drums and sing traditional Rajastani songs. Two members of our travelling tribe regaled us with a native Maori (New Zealand) dance and war chant called the Hakka.

But the best is yet to come...the stars, I've never seen so many STARS!! We camp out under the stars, and I marvel as I lie on my cot watching as two stars shoot across the blue night sky. We brave the cold desert night underneath the heavy blankets, and in the morning, we are greeted with hot chai tea in tin cups. We ride for another hour and a half back into civilization.

If it is hard to live a life in the desert, leading camels and entertaining silly tourists, I wouldn't have known. The people seem very happy at living at a leisurely pace and there are no traces of the worries that riddle our lives in the urban jungle. I am missing the poopy bread.