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En route to our Osiyan camp, we stop at a Jain temple where we are invited inside and listen to chanting of local devotees.
Strict Jains, with a scrupulous reverence for all living things, however small, wear face-masks to avoid breathing in some unseen airborne creature, and sweep a path as they walk to avoid stepping on anything animate. This temple is obviously less orthodox. Jains may not farm as the breaking of ground could cause harm to something living in the soil, so they have become a merchant class, and are on the whole, very well-off.
We arrive at "camp". If you're going to stay in the desert, this is definitely the place to do it. The patches of green grass strike such a contrast with the earth tones that at first they seem like Astro-Turf, but they are the real thing. The paths and foot surfaces are "wattled" down so the dust is minimal, and there are several excellent "bars" to quench the thirst.
What's this? Hmmm. We scrutinize the toilets behind the tents, and seeing the brighter side, conclude that the toilets at least face away from each other, if nothing else. We are amazed that there is not even a curtain to close. Maybe the curtain rod would have to be too long? As our brains race to rationalize this arrangement, we find out the tents normally covering these conveniences have been relocated. Our own facilities are actually enclosed in a private "back room" adjoining each of our tents.
We take an excursion to the bird-town of the desert, Keechen, where the locals are divided on the issue of hosting the migratory birds. Some would rather use the land for more practical applications, like farming. The youngsters of the village are undivided in the interest of posing for a shot.
Back at camp for cocktails on the dunes, we enjoy some real Rajasthan folk music,
followed by dancing after dinner. My interpretation of the local folk dance
is pretty pelvic after several Kingfishers (the local beer, served in large
bottles).
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