Magic Carpet Ride to Rajasthan!

Caitanya convinced me to join her for her Bollywood shoot for a movie due out in a few months called Veer. We flew from Bombay to the Pink City of Jaipur, Rajasthan (a northern Indian state bordering Pakistan). Jaipur is considered the Pink City renowned for its pink buildings all throughout the city. They are made with the pink sandstone of the Rajasthani desert. We arrived in the late afternoon and were met by a private taxi. Altogether, we were a group of 5: 3 actors, 1 makeup artist, and myself. The Bollywood crew had not planned on my accompaniment with Caitanya, so they had to immediately hire another taxi to take us 7 hours west to a small city called Bikaner. We arrived at the “Indian version” of an upscale hotel around 2am, and Caitanya’s shoot began at 7am! Yikes! Not much sleep!

At a quarter to 7, the phone rang, and Caitanya, who was already up, answered speaking in fluent Hindi. She assured them she would be down a moment later, and I rolled over to go back to sleep. A few hours later, the phone rang again… this time the taxi driver wanted to know when I would be ready to go. I told him noon, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

I made my way down the marble staircase just at noon, and sure enough the taxi driver was waiting for me. I hopped in the car, and we headed… I don’t know where. We drove out of Bikaner into the desert for over an hour. The landscape was desolate, save for the occasional smoke stack rising out of the brick kilns. Eventually we drove past a pink fort… continuing along a dirt road further still into the dusty desert. Just as I was beginning to wonder if it might have been a bad idea to have so trustingly jumped into the taxi alone, we pulled up to two colorful canvas tents full of colorful people, and the hustle and bustle of lunch.

“You get out here and wait for your friend,” the taxi driver commanded. Without question I obeyed, slowly making my way towards the already staring faces of Rajasthani gypsies.

A group of old women dressed to the nines in their everyday brightly colored saris, adorned with their countless bangels, jingling akletes, giant gold-hooped nose rings, and heavy gold, thick-guaged earrings, smiled at me in curiosity. I took the smile as an invitation, and immediately made my way to their circle and sat down next to them. I was a bit of a novelty for them, being the only white westerner around for miles. Similarly, I was just as captivated by them. This was a genuine tribe of gypsies that spend their lives moving from place to place piecing together their living, and they were absolutely gorgeous! I felt like I had stumbled upon my very own peek into Latcho Drom (a 1993 film of the music and dance of gypsies throughout a number of countries).

Their limited English inquired of my origin, and all of the typical introductory questions. Immediately I became a symbol of wealth to them… but they certainly didn’t look poor either… of course appearances can be quite deceiving in India. They tribe was patiently awaiting their set call where they would simply walk towards the sunset, depicting a typical pilgrimage day, parading through the desert with horses, camels, carts, and people of every age. Acting unnecessary. This was an easy role for them to play in the Bollywood flick.

The grandmothers in the circle were chewing a blend of beetlenut and herbs from small sugar-sized packets. They offered me a packet, and I declined. The younger girls, looking like princesses, stared at me, occasionally offering a shy smile. Some of the men had also gathered around to stare and gawk at the foreign girl, a few of them making jokes and laughing… I assumed it wasn’t the most hospitable jest.

After some time of being poked and prodded, they asked me to take their pictures. One after the other they lined up so I could snap a photo, then immediately tried to snatch my camera to sneak a peak of their pose. I began to get concerned about the excitement the camera was generating, so I rummaged my mind for an idea to contain the enthusiastic energies flooding and grabbing at me.

I turned to one of the Indian men who had offered a bit of translating to the tribe for me with some of the conversation, “Do you think we could all just sing or something?” This was my grand idea.

The grandmas laughed in embarrassment that didn’t last too long, and immediately broke into one of their traditional village songs. At this point the entire tent was gathered around our circle staring, laughing, pointing, and clapping along. There. The energy had become focused, and I was no long the center of attention! The women repeated their chant several times, and came to a stop, laughing. Everyone clapped, cheered, and hollered in joy. Then, the singers turned to me, “Now you sing,” they prompted in Hindi.

“No, no. I don’t sing,” I argued.
“Yes, yes!” They encouraged. “It’s your turn!”

There was no way out of this one. So, with all of the staring eyes and expectant expressions, I busted into a shaky, off-key, and much too fast chant about Ganesha (the Elephant God). Bursting into laughter, they clapped along, until my song came to an end.

A man that had been cracking jokes the whole time, prodded a couple of the men next to him. Although I couldn’t understand what he was saying, I was sure that his jesting was at my expense, and I didn’t like it. He was one of those bully types, that could really sway the energy of a group… and I felt a bit threatened.

With the dagger eyes of Kali, I turned to face him and snarled ferociously, “You know, you could really show me more respect!!! I’ve been watching you make your little jokes, and as a guest in your community, I would expect a bit more respect!”

In shock and surprise, even if he didn’t quite understand what I was saying, he received my message clearly, trying to feign a look of confusion by my sudden outburst. He got the hint, and moved away, likely embarrassed by my scolding… and all of the watching eyes around us.
Just at that moment, one of the directors called the tribe to the “set,” and there was a large commotion as everyone moved out to the desert for the shoot. I made my way over to the cameras to watch… and also to snap a few shots of my own. The sunset procession was gorgeous, and I was awed at this random moment that I had happened upon. It was as if Caitanya had picked me up, placed me on a magic carpet, and provided me with an experience in India that many travelers dream of.

The shoot was successful after only 3 takes, and then Caitanya appeared. She introduced me to the Director after he called a wrap, and commanded everyone to tear down for the day. We got our taxi and made our way back to the hotel. Caitanya’s work was finished for the next week or so, and we immediately made plans to go to Pushkar the next day. The saga continues…