In Pushkar, a town that is as many parts Holy City as it is Tourist Trap.
Out loud, I keep comparing it to other places I’ve been, but in truth, it is completely unlike anyplace I’ve seen before.
At home, in The States, from the safety of your bedroom, you can read stories about this country, and think you kind of understand something about it – but when it’s all here in front of you, it’s almost impossible to make sense of anything. The fact that you once thought you understood even a sliver makes you realize just how arrogant you’ve become.
Cows, donkeys, dogs, pigs, and monkeys – all running loose in the road.
Camels and horses and elephants under the command of men in large turbans.
Boys with broken ankles (feet almost facing behind them) walking the streets begging.
And in the same instant, a wedding procession comes through, with a tuktuk carrying a generator, used to power the table lamps illuminating the scene, while they let off fireworks that launch 30 feet into the air from the middle of the narrow street.
The gathering full of people who appear to be happier than anyone I’ve seen before.
