Jaisalmer

We took a 19 hour train journey on an overnight sleeper train. Leaving Delhi, I watched the landscape turn from the overcrowded bustle of the city to the   ubiquitous slums and unending poverty of the sprawling shanty towns with their shelters  strung together with any bit of plastic, tin, paper and sticks, each dwelling leaning on the next in an effort to hold it all together. Strewn with garbage it went on, kilometre after kilometre, thousands of people  living together, a writhing sea of humanity amidst open sewage and piles of waste and rubbish. Amazingly, children were playing and smiling and a community was evident despite these appalling conditions. I felt my heart break knowing there is nothing I can do to change this. It is, as it is.
The trains have compartments with 3 bunks on each side and, as luck would have it, I was assigned the top bunk. Once I was up there, it was fine but I prayed I didn't need to use the loo in the middle of the night. I could just imagine myself climbing down, negotiating the ladders and probably stepping on something or someone in the process. It was a long journey but I made it just fine, not too worse for the wear. The reward was arriving in the beautiful old fort town called Jaisalmer and once we got our bags, navigated our way out of the chaotic station and into jeeps waiting to take us up through the very narrow and winding streets to our hotel....we could finally relax. 
It's hard to describe the noise...horns honking, people yelling at each other, tuk tuk's, scooters and motorcycles vying to be heard over the din and inch their way into position. It amazes me that in this crazy chaos I don't think about wearing a seatbelt (there are none) and I readily put my faith in the driver to get me where I need to go, safely. So far, so good.
There are stray cows and oxen everywhere. They feed on the rubbish in the streets (Indian garbage collection solution?) and the long grasses that people cut from the fields and bring them. They are seemingly calm amidst the chaos of the traffic and are regarded with respect as the drivers avoid contact with them.
The next day I booked a pedicure (350 rupees, or $7 cdn) which was great, but very different to what I'm used to. First off, the girl had no way of getting hot water except by placing an electrical wand, plugged perilously into a wall socket that looked like it would spark into fire any moment, into a bucket of water. Not kidding. It seemed to work and I was grateful for the warm soak. An hour and a half later, I emerged, pink toenails and freshly threaded eyebrows....a new woman! I then went out to explore the city and tour the fort and palace.

Shopping in India is a very different experience. Instead of haggling at the market stall, you go inside behind the colourful array of "samples" hanging in front of the shop revealing a huge back room with all the stock neatly stacked and ready to be unfurled for your buying pleasure. There is a huge cushion for you to sit on and they  usually offer you chai, or in my case, a beer and then set to work convincing you to buy something, unfurling piles and piles of colourful cashmere and silk to entice you. It is a long process and I succumbed once, emerging an hour later, a bit tipsy, and totally bewildered at how I managed to leave with five pashmina scarves in hand and a dinner date with the much too young shopkeeper. Needless to say, I have tried to avoid this situation ever since. I prefer instead take a rickshaw into the non-touristy parts of the city where I can chat with the locals, drink street chai and take interesting photos. 

The people I am travelling with are great, particularly the 8 young women ages 19-28. They have welcomed me into their fold, telling me I am more like a peer than a mom and I am growing increasingly fond of each one of tthese bright, beautiful and interesting young women. 
It makes me long for my own kids and I often think of them and how much I wish they could experience this. I hope they will one day.