Fabulous headgear of men in the Thar desert. Bulbous brilliantly coloured affairs. A rainbow, dotted, flecked ‘who’s who’ guide, to area of origin. A map of home, cloth of belonging. And beautiful to boot. Continue reading Men In Turbans.
Every October in the 8th month of Kartika, business and religion come together and the quiet town of Pushkar is transformed into the circus that is the Pushkar camel festival. Thousands of livestock owners stir in the Thar desert, pack family and belongings onto wooden carts, trailing camels, horses, and cows behind them, to trade on the Mela ground – a huge, dry, expanse of … Continue reading Pulsating Pushkar.
We noticed the barber shop, the size of a postage stamp, squeezed in between the internet cafe and our guesthouse. “Shave sir”, asked the barber appearing out of nowhere, nodding at Jim. “Can I have a haircut”, I asked hopefully. Normally the only customers in these shops are men. “Yes, yes, five minutes waiting”. All three chairs were occupied so I sat on a bench … Continue reading The 80 Cent Haircut.
Our very first trip, after becoming nomadic? We jumped in at the deep end – and in 2009 spent seven months in India. Delhi, with a population of 12.8 million, everyone of them, it seems, on the make, was down right hard work. Tenacious touts pretending to be our best friend, wanting to direct us to places where they would receive commission. Auto rickshaw drivers … Continue reading Delhi. Frantic, frustrating, frenetic.