up early because very bad night. Around 3 or 4am, a whole troop of pilgrims sang in my cell and shaking bells. I could sleep again, but not for long. Electric coffee at Nijzam.
The morning goes "shanti shanti". It starts at the sun terrace of the guesthouse where we witness a live session barber of extraordinary virtuosity. A real ballet, razor in hand, against a backdrop of lake and mountains, the sun. A kind of tea ceremony ...
Flor and I stroll in town, from a stall to another when one has to get a drink chai. I'm so different meetings: photographers (Pushkar, but take a shop course), a Mexican civil engineer, a fabulous trainer artisan jewelry, ...
Vers 14h, as expected, I returned to the Foundation office Fior di Loto. We anticipated that Deepu takes me to visit some families of schoolgirls and show me closer to their villages. Driving the white car of the 50 or 60 (there is a small side Havana in India), I am happy to find my driver minipus. So here we are gone, Deepu, me behind him and taking photos.
This afternoon was amazing discovery. See what the actual conditions experienced by villagers. Some sponsors of the Foundation have built small brick houses (up to 20 m2 ground) for the poorest families. In one of them live 10 children orphaned.
In another, they are 6. But in each house visited, the same mood: laughter, laughing with children and adults, kids love having their photo taken and ask as many they can. I am thus a first idea of housing and living conditions, and especially conditions in which female students are working on returning to school. It's simple: there is, apart from beds, no furniture, or almost not. Electricity arrives in most homes, but the cuts (I've experienced a few times in Pushkar) are not uncommon. No heat, of course, for the coldest nights of the year. Photos, photos, pictures ... I am particularly surprised to discover in the various houses visited that, apart from images and objects pile, the only element Decoration consists of ... tableware (bowls, plates) carefully arranged. In the rare glimpse inside my town, I had already noticed the absence of furniture. Someone explain to me the day that if a citizen has the means to afford a cabinet, he chose a beautiful piece of antiquity. No Ikea here. Even fewer Habitat furniture.
Regarding jewelry of old peasants - and other views in town - we explain that in India, people are not saving but hoard. Everything is in jewelry. Moreover, there is a real bargain - and traffic - antique silver jewelry. They are found here and there in the shops and the city of Jaisalmer is very famous for the jewelry. And the government has banned the sale of jewelry from more than 100 years. But ...
At 18h we find ourselves in front of the shop of a friend Flor, artisan jeweler that I'll shoot tomorrow - it invites us to a party in town.
Having arrived a little sooner, I linger on the little market square to take pictures. I am joined by one of my fellow gypsy, "Pedro" and he calls himself. It is, it is seen and heard, ill. Of course he asked me rupees, dining ... I asked him to take her to the clinic for treatment. He prefers to have the money in cash and go there himself, and I fixed him go tomorrow. Deepu, the head of Fior di Loto passing by, I reported the case of this child Deepu tells me to take him to hospital where he receives free care. But I do not know if my friend will join me tomorrow.
We're getting there - on a bike - to 19h. Stupor. In what must be a school, and in the courtyard of this, dozens of women, men, children, ... arrive per group. It is a vigil in the 20th consecutive day of death of an inhabitant. This festival is ritual. We are made up on the roof of one building. We are told that the seats (in the courtyard or rooftop) are assigned based on the caste to which the guests belong.
Men and women are separated. But it is men who everywhere make the service. Everyone is sitting on the floor, strips of carpet very long. The show is very beautiful, very good atmosphere, hubbub, continuous round of servers. (While I go to pee-room, a little brat hesitate to ask me very directly 10 rupees. As I refuse to laugh, he believes in me tells me that there are no toilets where I go and turn me back).
There are a large number of castes (caste sometimes by business: we are talking thus, at length, with a barber ... member of the caste of barbers, who is not the highest, it is that of the Brahmin). As for the veiled women who sweep the streets, they are actually the lowest caste. It is very difficult to escape the fate determined by the caste. Our journeyman barber we explained that he wanted to go very far, also in India to change jobs, if they discovered his caste, he was soon excluded from the job in question. Now it appears that caste can be betrayed only by a particular syllable of the name.
We dine at our tower on the roof in large plastic dishes and with hands, as it should (right hand only, the left is devoted to other functions).
Since my adventure with bhop, my meeting with officials of Fior di Loto, everything I learn little little about India, Hinduism, the status of women, the rigidity of caste, my gaze on India deepens. Despite the express wishes of the government, for example, terminate the fate of girls and women or the law of caste, I realize there will be some time before things really change. The principle of religious and traditional customs are deeply rooted. And anyway, he here and everywhere, the children's laughter, warmth, openness. "India" is decidedly rich, complex, explosive mix of the most extreme contrasts. But I focus more more to this country / continent and its inhabitants.
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