Pushkar Camel Fair

I’ve had some crazy car incidents in my day. In the snow-bound states especially, I’m sure it’s hard not to have some war stories to keep your driver’s license warm at night. Vehicular transport has always been on the interesting side of thigns in India, be it plane (Kingfisher, beer company and self-proclaimed distributor of “Good Times,” does it better than everyone, leading me to conclude that control of the skies should henceforth be forfeited exclusively to alcohol), train (sleeper cars are divine, excrement-soaked tracks not so much), or automobile (the driving rules here, in comparison to those of the States, are virtually nonexistent, yet surprisingly effective). I do believe, however, that I have recently experienced the crazy car incident to beat all crazy car incidents: a sideswipe by a camel, brought to me courtesy the Pushkar Camel Fair. “Hit and Run by Camel”—check one life goal off my list!

The Pushkar Came Fair is a celebration of all animals rideable, but especially those that double as a living canteen. Indians come to the annual week-long festival to buy and sell horses and camels, and tourists come to… well, buy. The markets and streets are spilling over with Westerners and their cushy exchange rates: an opportunity to push touristy souvenirs onto people with luxury money that few Indian merchants can resist. Compared to the price tags and passive employees of spic-n-span American malls, India is considerably more spontaneous and in your face. Walking through Pushkar, like many other markets in Indian cities, you are guaranteed to have venders at your side or waving at you from their booths, calling, “Hey-lo! Please come take a look! Very cheap!” as they barter off their clothes, bags, puppets, musical instruments, whatever. White skin is an automatic stigma symbolizing money, and it often earns tourists a bump in prices.

Still, camels are the main event and, as such, they are everywhere (dangerously so, it would seem) in full, flashy camel attire, piercings, and make-up. I’m not sure why Pushkar became camel-central, but I suppose the city’s placement in the Rajastani desert makes it seem a likely haunt for the two-toed farmhands. This Pennsylvania-raised girl has never experienced desert before; I can only liken Pushkar’s take on it to a dust-beach that’s lacking its ocean. I romanticized desert sands to be more of the seashore variety. Unexpectedly, Pushkar sand looks and feels more like it was stockpiled from the tops of all the world’s picture frames. Still, walking around Pushkar in flip-flops has that same futile quality to it that sandy beaches have, with the added benefit of desert brush (read: hidden thorn bushes) and frequent animal droppings. Let me just say that my feet will need some serious buffing before they’ll ever get back to their pre-India state of cleanliness.

According to the leader of our traveling seminar, Pushkar is a “hippy-dippy town” whose economy relies almost completely on tourism. I admit I felt a little Indian while there; it’s been months since I’ve seen so many white people in one place, and I definitely partook in some impolite staring. The Pushkar Camel Fair brings throngs of foreigners, and Rajastan spares no expense. The state’s name means “land of the kings,” and it has long been a popular destination for short-term excursions into the subcontinent. It’s a place built for novel views of India; the colorful clothing styles, scenery, animals, and cities all pantomime the “traditional” India of turbaned maharajas, daring snake-charmers, and ornamented dancers. I suppose I can’t say much about superficial tourism—in Pushkar, our foursome “camped” in elaborate tents with a completely functional Western-style bathroom. They even provided toilet paper, which is more than I can say for several hotels I’ve stayed at.

So what did I gain from Pushkar? Unfortunately, not a decorated Indian camel of my own (I think getting it onto the plane home would be a tad complicated). The most important life lesson, I think, was a bit of myth-busting. After spending two days completely surrounded by camels, the only things I saw spitting were Indian men.