At 10am, I found as expected, on the other side of town, at the Sunset Café, Raju, Brahamine for the puja. Sat at the Sunset Terrace overlooking the lake, I see it happen, all dressed in white, red napkin neatly folded in a sling on the shoulder.
It takes time for me to do the puja, a sort of ritual blessing for the pilgrim and his family. Hindus plunge into the river (or lake) because water is supposed to promise good health. Raju patiently explain various things about his religion, that is the city of Pushkar Brahama (the "god" creator of the Hindu trinity), another town is dedicated to Vishnu and a third, Benares, Shiva, the deity of destruction (which destroyed to start). And other information such as these: about 18 000 inhabitants have the city of Pushkar, 2000 are Brahmins. And the only income of a Brahmin are the offerings. That true sadhus do not drag in town but live very lonely in the mountains.
The puja lasts, the ritual is very aesthetic and symbolic. I'm not too surprised to hear the gods in the applications they give me, in addition to good health, a "good job" and a "good business". Money is not really a taboo. With him I pray for all my family: children, women, parents and grandparents repeat the mantras, and then we throw the water rose petals.
The puja ended, I found Deepu.
We go on a bike (it's still my Brahmin, Raju, who laced up a pair of sunglasses for the occasion, which I pilot) for a photo shoot at school the foundation. During a discussion with Deepu, I proposed to them as many photos as they like for their website or any use they want - and Kam had said the day at night they were looking just a photographer. They had declined the proposal of an earlier photographer (French, for that matter) who asked 500 euro for such work.
When we arrived, the lunch hour ends. Joyful excitement of children before the camera lens ... I met the principal, teachers. The current director is getting married and must therefore stop working. Soon. These children are like all children in the world with something more and something less. In some classes, you sit down. The school, in this season begins at 7am and ends at 14h after because it's too hot.
The school itself occupies part of what in fact is a temple, and this part of the building is leased to the Foundation. But knowing that it is funded, in large part, by Western officials of the temple tend to increase rents.
I return around 13:00 for a second shooting, I want to attend the lesson of "computer" (I've already taken so many pictures that I have to download them my computer). The school has some computers but they are carefully locked up for fear of theft. This day the course is without a computer. Each student has a notebook computer and graphic explaining the operation, I think, to Windows. The teacher gives the lesson by reading his own book of the master. I have some difficulties to make me forget the children ... photo taking is once again a treat. Attitudes of children, smiles, laughs, pranks, colors, ...
I spend well in some classes, sit in the back to make me forget where possible children and disturb least possible way.
Each student has his school bag and all necessary materials and a small aluminum container, closed for his lunch.
At 14h, when boarding the minibus for the children back to their villages, I decided to board.
atmosphere. Minibus crowded (I'm the last one hand while taking pictures of each other. Traffic, horns, cows, bicycles, ... Gradually the children down.
The minibus back to school for a second tour, in another village. Then there is a little less children and I can sit in the front. I thus ample opportunity to discover a little better with my bike to gypsies the surrounding desert. Tents of gypsies actually, small houses, hutes, houses can be called a "bourgeois" culture, ... Driving is unbelievable. Left in principle but in reality, once left, once right, as the movement of a cow, a bicycle, a cart, a another bus in front makes a passing, etc..
Having introduced these students, I sit beside the young and friendly driver. Suddenly he stopped on a dirt road descends from his chariot and rides on the roof, just under a tree. It descends in a few moments with a large handful of green balls, like small fat weight. It makes me taste; "very good health" he tells me. A few minutes later, he charges three farmers in multicolored saris, women of age more advanced by. With their big basket, they go to small local market. I ask to photograph them of course but the face is not. Laugh. They then offered me a handful of broad beans, the driver attempts to explain and show me - while driving - how to open them. I finally arrives. I then noticed his hands and extraordinary jewels of the ladies: pictures, re-laughs. They asked me of course no rupee.
back, I'll bask in the sunshine of 2h guesthouse.
day long, I have my camera ready. It should be on a permanent high alert ... Every minute there is something going on. I dare not count the number of pictures that I made so far. Probably between 2 and 3000.
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