to lengthen the wait, to stretch out the day longer

TUESDAY MARCH 9TH - WEDNESDAY MARCH 10TH

Jodhpur chai break, Jaisalmer, almost to the border of Pakistan (well, 75km away from it) and back to Jaisalmer.

Arriving on a public bus, the landscape around was barren between the villages. At one point we spotted a group of army tents and tanks, which really put the Pakistan-India friction into a visual context.

An hour or so before Jaisalmer, on one of the frequent pitstops the bus provided us with, we were approached by a guy supposedly advising us on what to do and expect there. He then attempted to sell us his camel safari and promote his hotel, and he was not to be the only one. As a group of seven, of which five of us were clearly foreign, we attracted the attention of many hecklers, who swarmed around us as soon as the bus ground to a halt.

"Camel safari, camel safari!"

"Only eight hundred rupees!"

"Best price, best price sir!"

"Somewhere to stay?"

"My company will take you into town, no charge, come with me!"

No matter how many times we denied any offers of transport and safaris, they continued to stalk us down the street. Apparently there was no union here, and this escalated the competitiveness, to the extent that some people offered us camel safaris for only four hundred rupees (about €8).

We chose to head down to the Tourist Office we'd spotted on the way in, and got ourselves a camel safari with an overnight in the dunes. After lunch we were driven up to the fort (which looked like a massive sandcastle, the sort the five-year-old me would have dreamt of making) by an enthusiastic driver who kept offering us beer.

We dropped off our stuff and got back in with the chubby chauffeur, who was now asking us to sing him a song. He drove us out along a single road which seemed to go on forever (actually, it lead to the Pakistani border). We pulled up at a small village in the sweltering heat, plonked on hats and smeared on sunscreen, and then clambered on to camels (which were really dromedaries).

Off we went.

An hour or two later, we arrived in what could almost be described as a field of sand dunes. It was hemmed in by scrubby desert, but was sufficiently large for us to imagine the rolling hills stretching out into the horizon (and for us to take pictures to that effect).

We buried ourselves in the sand, had a campfire (including singalongs, which our guides asked us for) and slept under the stars. It was wondrous to be so far away from the 'usual' environment, and so comfortable to be lying on the cool sand after the heat of the day.

In the morning we munched on bananas and set off again on our camels. Mine was called Mrs India, and was apparently already, at the age of five, already a grandmother.

We rode for a couple of hours, managed not to tumble off whilst galloping (my camel guy even made motorbike noises while the camel ran, it really added to the experience) and got back into the city.

After spending the day wandering around the fort (naturally after having showered and washed all the lovely sand out of ears and hair and toes), shopping for leather bags and shawls (oh we do fulfill tourist expectations) we boarded a bus heading to Pushkar.

(I feel I am omitting something by not mentioning that of course, we did not simply board the bus. We hurriedly caught rickshaws down the hill, found that, unusually, the bus had been early, and left, without us, and we caught more rickshaws and attempted to still catch it. We didn't quite manage, but we got on another bus, pretended to have seats and sat very still whilst the ticket collector came by. Oh India.)

come head on, full circle, our arms filled with miracles

MONDAY MARCH 8TH

Welcome to Mount Abu, the highest hillstation in Rajasthan. Considering that this state is one consisting mainly of the desert, this does not mean much, but then again, I am Dutch and our highest point nationally is only about 9m above sea level.

Height aside, this little place is rather cute. Much like Mahabaleshwar, minus the strawberries but plus a stunning Jain temple, it was a nice enough location for some walking around.

Having found a hotel of the same name as somebody on campus, we had to take a cheesy picture. He adored it and was tremendously pleased when we sent it to him upon getting back.

Generic cheesiness aside, we passed the time wandering around the lake, posing as though in Titanic along the way (inspired by the numerous couples having professional pictures taken of their 'romantic' weekend in Mount Abu) and then headed up to the Jain temple.

The Jain religion does not believe in killing anything or putting any being into unnecessary pain. Thus they eat a very limited diet, and live in a most peaceful way. It sounds like a lovely, albeit rather difficult, way of living.

The temples (there were five of them) were absolutely stunning. We arrived, were asked to remove our shoes, deposit our bags, and queue up. There was a tour guide who showed us the main sections, and after that we were free to wander around. It was midday and the sun was blazing down but it was cool, as the temples were constructed entirely out of white marble, intricately carved out into hundreds of different motifs.

It was one of the calmest, most soothing moments of project week, those minutes inside the temples. There was a peacefulness and feeling of completion about the place, with its stunning carvings all around. Everyone milled around slowly, padding around barefoot and paying respect to the various gods in the chambers. The lack of pretentiousness or tourists aside from us and the Indians (many of whom were on honeymoons) made it a welcoming spot, and we spent a while just sitting inside the area. Every ceiling, pillar and wall were decorated, and the subtlety of the white on white adornments was lovely.

There was no entrance fee - only donations, no photography allowed and the temples open at midday as the mornings are used for prayers. This seemed to me a nice way of showing the world the beauty they had constructed without making it into an exploited attraction.

After that lovely visit, we walked back and came across an injured horse along an empty road. Standing around and looking worried, we managed to catch the attention of a passerby who turned out to be a naval pilot and who began to make phone calls to help the animal out. We were told that our 'action' had 'inspired' him and hopefully others, to express concern about the horse, and that we had 'started something'. The horse had a neglecting owner who did not care for it properly, and had apparently been lying and limping around for three months prior to us spotting it. The problem was the cost and transport of the horse to a vet, but the pilot assured us that our concern had 'motivated' him to do something. It was a rather odd incident really, and was followed by Andres deciding to go on a hike and being scared off by two elderly women warning him (in Hindi) about 'baloo! baloo!' (bear! bear!) and growling at him as he tried to walk up the path.

We ended the day at Sunset Point, as did most of the tourist population, and then caught a train out to Jodpur, where we could connect to Jaisalmer (and the desert!).

if i told you things i did before, told you how i used to be.

Back into the present, here's a brief update on the world as I know it right now.

Right now (What a strange word. My now is past as soon as I type or say it, and your interpretation of my now, done in your now, is even further removed from the moment. Thank you English A1 HL for that thought.) there is a big fire in the Biodiversity Reserve. The Fire Service team, which consists of a bunch of students who use it for the A component of CAS, are out there in the midday heat battling the flames with large, metal spade-like things with t-shirts over their heads. It is slightly worrying, but it has happened before and will only get worse as the season wears on. Already much of the surrounding hillside is brownish and dry, and the heat is set to up several notches too.

Tonight is the Dance Show, and the mocks start for the second years. We're really getting into our last term now, with the UWC-NL final interviews happening as I type and the exams looming around the corner. Some people have their 'zero' years already, and there is some excitement on campus. Yesterday the Danes got theirs and began to proudly point out on a map of Denmark where each was from. The Americans are receiving emails from nervous applicants and the INC (Indian National Committee) interviews are happening next weekend on campus.

It's odd to remember how I felt this time last year, especially as it simultaneously feels like no time and yet all the time in the world has passed since then. Something that is really throwing off my measure of the year is the lack of seasons. It feels like it has been summer since the August when I got here.

Returning to the thread of the tale, though:

SUNDAY MARCH 7TH

We woke up to the rattle of the train and the rush of wind. Sitting up, straightening out and clambering down from the blue-plastic, narrow bunks, we looked out of the barred window with amazement. Whilst the night before we'd been in a fairly standard, village-speckled landscape, we were now riding through a dune-like scrubby scene. There was not very much beyond the train, some temples, a bunch of cows and the sun as far as we could see, and it was stunning. I think it was one of the first times in India that I have truly seen space.

A couple of hours later we pulled into the station. Throwing ourselves into the crowd heading towards the exit, we began to spot a lot of tourists. There was some sort of conference going on, and Rajasthan, known for its vibrant colours, culture and camels, is quite a tourist trap. The exit of the station was 'guarded' by two men, dressed up in supposedly traditional garb, sitting on camels (or, as I remember from Dutch class, dromedaries, as they only had one hump) holding red flags. This was rather a change from Ahmedabad, which was low-key and mainly consisted of Indians.

We got into the city of Udaipur itself, and were stunned for the second time. It was a terribly cute city full of slightly narrow, curved paths flanked by hippie shops and buildings atop which were rooftop restaurants. Udaipur is next to a lake, in which there is a white palace. The centre of the city boasts a large palace as well, with lots of intricate designs and architectural features. It reminded me of Aladdin, what with all the slightly sloped streets and pure-white palaces. (Later on in this project week, Osnat and I began to practice our rendition of A Whole New World, partially inspired by this place. That's another story altogether though, and will appear in a couple of days I guess.)

We started with a very relaxing and scenic breakfast on a rooftop. After that, we visited the palace in the city, which was beautiful. There were so many buildings and centuries of art, and even the gangs of elderly tourists in their holiday clothing did nothing to detract from the amazing atmosphere there. Our plan was to head out to the palace in the lake, but being the tourist attraction the place was, the prices were hiked up beyond our student-budget means. Instead we found out about a garden just outside the city, which was rather pretty with its fountains and white stone elephants.

By the end of the afternoon we caught a bus out to Mount Abu, the highest hill station in Rajasthan. The bus took us along a rural route, which was enjoyable due to the lovely semi-barren desert-ness of the area. We got there around eleven, so the ride up to the town on the mountain felt mystical and exciting. This was to some extent counteracted by the first thing we saw when we got there, as this was a replica of the Eiffel Tower (around 5m in height) which was rather odd.

(all of the pictures are of Udaipur)

sleepless long nights that is what my youth was for

(unknown source, captures the attitude towards our travel week)

SATURDAY 6TH MARCH

In the end, it wasn't our train, although it was going to the right place. We plonked ourselves down and stuck around feigning ignorance until the true seat owners came along, and then drifted down the carriages in search of empty beds. We found some, and tried our luck a little more.
The ticket collector eventually did come around, and told us we should move to General Compartment. This is the lowest rank of carriage, and is mostly filled with people who have not seen 'whites' before. Being so determined to get to Ahmedabad (which is in Gujarat), we moved down there at twelve at night, and actually found seats. It wasn't the most comfortable of journeys, and the following five hours consisted of light napping on each other's shoulders and moving feet around so that the children sleeping on the floor would have enough space, but we got there in the end.
Cue Saturday morning, used to catch up on sleep in some hotel somewhere near the station.
When we eventually got and cleaned up, we set off to see the city.
Starting with a thali, which is a collection of curries, dahl and other bits and pieces, we saw a mosque and wandered around for a while. Walking into an old fort which was due to be fixed, it was interesting to see the British influence on the architecture, espescially as it was right next ot a Hindu temple.
We stumbled upon an art showroom, filled with watercolour and collage pieces commenting on the expansion and modernisation of the city over the past twenty years. Vibrant colours and stylised figures made the paintings rather hopeful in their semi-criticism, and the artist was pleased to see us 'youth' interested in his depictions of our peers.
We headed off to the Law Gardens, which turned out to be a park. It was calm and a nice way to end the day.
By evening we made our way to the train station, where we caught our train to Udaipur, our first stop in Rajasthan.

and everything that i want to know is on a local train outside tokyo

(the Rajasthani desert, on our camel safari)

Having returned from Project/Travel week last week, I'm finally getting around to my attempt to paint my experiences up in words for all of you out there.

It's a strange thing. I'm sitting facing the pool playing music loudly to the night, in a restful moment away from the hubbub of school-life here. Yet, I've stationed myself and my packet of juice slapbang inbetween the Social Centre and Gossip, our tuck shop here. It should be bustling, but I guess the mocks and tests coming up have tied the hands of a lot of second years right now.

The week of my birthday, the desert and a 24 hour train journey across three states was busy, so I'm going to (hopefully) bring you the stories day by day (I'm feeling very CNN-ish, and was going to write 'as they happen' but I restrained myself) over the course of the next eight days.
This will prevent potential RSI for me and overwhelming quantities of text for you to read :)

FRIDAY MARCH 5TH

After spending the previous evening on a moonlight picnic in the biodiversity reserve, and having slept on a roof (it felt like camping out in the summertime, if you managed to ignore the mosquitoes) I got up and packed for the week.
(this sounds so simple written down, but I'm sure as most of you know, I'm not the world's best/speediest/most effective packer. In hindsight, I did pretty well though, as I wore almost everything, had space for souveniers and only forgot my pajamas (: )

I was going to travel with Yanna (German/French, grew up in Japan, our organised one), Aradhya (Indian and our only second year in the group), Andres (Spanish and an amazing violin player), Bartek (our Polish sarcasm dose), Osnat (our Israeli CliniClown game-instigator) and Emilio (the patriotic American who pretended to be Indian for the week). We didn't really know each other too well, so the week would at the very least contain some getting-to-know-people-ness, which I always think is fun.

So it got to three and we were all excitedly standing around in the heat of the day with our backpacks and travelling clothes on. We'd booked a bus with a bunch of others who needed to get to Bombay to catch trains, and were waiting for everyone to arrive (we work on Indian/MUWCI time here, which means that things happen anywhere between ten minutes and two days after they were supposed to).
By half past we'd all dribbled in, and the bags were being tied to the roof. Our ringleader (the second year at this point in time) was getting slightly stressed, as our train was due to leave at 20:30 and getting into Bombay would take us four hours at least around this time of day.
The bus driver took his time though, and eventually we (already too hot in the bus, tearfully and cheerfully waving goodbye to other friends) were on our way.

Naturally we had a couple more obstacles to get past before we could get out of the state and into our chosen travel week region. The first was a flat tire, which landed us at some unknown pitstop area, with a ringleader who was getting more agitated as the time wore on. We considered hitch-hiking the remaining two hours into Bombay, but settled for getting our backpacks down in advance to allow us to jump off and race for a train if neccessary.
We got to Bombay by 19:30, but with the evening traffic and sheer scale of the city it was unlikely that we would make our train. We were advised to get off and catch a train from a nearby station, which might still get us there in time.

We grabbed our backpacks and jumped out.
We ran along roads and pavements, hauling each other up and pulling everyone along.
We got to the station and found a line a mile long for tickets.

Luckily we had charm and (I'm sad to say) foreign blood on our side, and we got our tickets.

We continued to run through the station.
We linked hands and jumped on a random carriage.

It turned out to be a women's only carriage, which made for an amusing/slightly uncomfortable twenty minutes for some of our group. The women all watched us, alien as we were with massive bags, braids over our heads like Heidi (that would be me) and franctic looks on our faces. We were told to get off at a station, we did, and it turned out to be the wrong one.

The rush continued.
We ran out of the station.
We shouted for taxis.
We piled into two and kept our fingers crossed we'd end up at the same station.
We did.

It was 21:15.

Thinking that the Indian time scale we'd had such problems with earlier might work to our advantage, we checked the platform.
There was a train there.
Hoping for the best, but suspecting it wasn't ours, we got on.

we could be walking around the zoo, with the sun shining down over me and you

(Rory and I pretending to be local in Mahabaleshwar)

I just had my final Active English session.

It's odd to think that the seven children I taught together with Rory will go on into the big bad world with a vague memory of two girls trying to teach them the verb 'to be', playing silly colour games and singing the hokey pokey too loudly and clearly for them to do anything but laugh at the sight of it.

We tried to teach them about our countries of origin, but ended up focusing on the difference between continents and countries and dancing whilst they looked on, bemused. It was worrying to see them look so lost with the map of the world, and I hope our little diagrams of clogs, hamburgers and the first man on the moon will one day help them in life.

From this point on, we'll be spending our Tuesdays workshopping about teaching English as a foreign language, which sounds considerably less exciting than attempting to captivate the imaginations of Sonali, Sandeep, Sanjeevni, Priyanka, Tiranbul and the various others that occasionally attended.

I think that every time I ride or walk by Paud School, I will see the playground filled with small circles of MUWCI and Paud students, trying to communicate ideas and grammar for an hour. Here's to next year and a new batch of first years and fifth graders.

x