Kabul, Afghanistan The making of an antique rug

It was May or June of 2009.  I rode in another Toyota Corolla.  We were on our way to do some shopping.  We also needed to download some files online.  The connection at our office just wasn’t fast enough for what we needed to do.

All the foreigners I know in Kabul ride around in Big Black Suburbans (military contractors) or Big White Suburbans (NGOs).  Me, I’m always in some beat up old gray colored Toyota.  But I think it makes my life more interesting this way.

As always when I’m out in public in Afghanistan, I had on an Afghan style hat.  I was slouched low in the seat, so I wasn’t easily visible from outside.  For a small city, Kabul has some terrible traffic problems. 

From what I could see, the congestion was caused by various embassies and other big government compounds whose security forces closed off the roads that at one time passed by those compounds.  This indiscriminate closing of roads has left parts of central Kabul heavily congested.

To avoid some of this traffic congestion, our driver used side roads.  On one of these unpaved dirt roads a large reddish brown rug lay in the middle of the road.  All the cars and trucks just drove over it.  Big puffs of dust billowed from beneath the rug with each passing car.

I couldn’t understand why someone would throw a seemingly new rug into the road.

My friends laughed when I asked them why the rug was there.  “Keith, my friend, they are making an antique Afghan rug there.” 

I joined the laughter, thinking this was a lot like the Chinese sculptors who bury swords in the earth to make them into antiques.

Author Bio:

Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.

Vegetable shopping in Kandahar

I have a short story to tell, from when I was in Kandahar in the winter of 2007. This was before I knew Ajmal. But I thought some of you might be wondering about me, an American acting as the campaign press secretary.  This tale might help you to know me just a little better.

My first experiences with the people of Afghanistan came when I was living in Kandahar and went out exploring the City. I was told by everyone that it was dangerous for me to go out in the City of Kandahar.  I could be kidnapped or worse.  I believed them, but life should be lived fully.  Hiding in a compound all day and all night just isn’t my style.

My friend Raziq tried his best to find some traditional styled clothing to fit me.  You can see from the photo I was just a bit larger than the clothing he eventually brought to me.  After donning my disguise, I rode with Raziq and another friend from Kandahar Air Base into the City of Kandahar in an old Toyota Corolla.

Raziq was concerned about roadside bombs, so I had my hat pulled low across my face and a gray and white shawl wrapped high around my neck.  I had grown a slight graying beard.  From a distance, while I was seated in the Toyota I might appear to be an Afghan.

While in town we had lunch at an excellent restaurant where I enjoyed the best cucumbers and yogurt I have ever eaten.  Then we visited the gold sellers street where this photo was taken.

Later we stopped at a vegetable market, because I was in town to buy some large quantities of fresh fruit and vegetables.  I left Raziq and his friends talking and I roamed alone through the mounds and piles of carrots and potatoes and other fresh vegetables.

My attention was attracted by a loud cracking sound, much like fire crackers or small explosions.  But the sound was not that of a rifle or a bomb.  I was curious and walked toward the main street.  Standing on the edge of the curb I leaned out looking to my left to see what all the commotion was about.

I should have been more aware of my surroundings.  It was only later that I realized while I was walking toward the edge of the road all the other people in the market were slowly moving back away from the road.

Suddenly a convoy of ISAF vehicles appeared from around a bend in the road.  The noise was a warning klaxon on the lead vehicle.  All the people of Kandahar recognized this cracking sound as the warning that a military convoy was coming through. 

The armored vehicles were moving way too fast for the narrow road conditions.  A poor carrot farmer whose overloaded cart laden with carrots and pulled by an ancient graying donkey fell into a pothole on the side of the road. The cart overturned as the convoy roared by.

I stared at the soldiers or private contractors as they sped past me.  The last vehicle in the convoy was driven by a particularly crazed individual.  He saw me standing alone by the curb.  So he veered sharply toward me so that the right side wheels of his armored vehicle ran through a big puddle of very brown muddy water.  The water shot out from beneath the tires.  I was drenched from the waist down in a disgusting brown muck.

The old man standing across on the other corner with the overturned cart, looked near to crying.  Anger and frustration were lined in his sun withered face.  I walked over and gave him some help to push the cart upright. Then standing in ankle deep water I helped to throw the 50 kilo bags of carrots back into the van.

By the time we were finished loading his cart, I was truly filthy.  I took a couple loose carrots and fed them to his calm and sturdy donkey.  He said, “salaam aliakum” and  I repeated the words back to him.

Returning to the back corner of the market where my friends were waiting I was greeted by some strange looks.  I had left them wearing spotlessly clean, new clothing.  I returned covered in mud that had turned the lower half of my legs and shoes a dark beige color.  My hands were dirty brown.  I even had mud in my hair.

I just looked back at them and said, “my friends I now know what that strange noise means.”  Thankfully we had finished all we wanted to accomplish that day, so we climbed into the beat up Toyota and headed out of town.  That’s when I noticed a gathering of nomadic people, off in a distant field.  A wedding celebration was just beginning.

“Raziq,” I said, turning to my friend who was sitting in the back seat fingering his beads, saying a silent prayer of thanks that we had made it out of town safely.  “Raziq. do you think the bride and groom would mind if an American invited himself to their wedding party?”

But that wedding party is a tale for another day.  I hope you enjoyed my tale about shopping for vegetables in Kandahar.

Keith E. Jones

Author Bio:

Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.

Whale Watching Trip With Baja Jones Adventures

This is a trip description written by a happy Baja Jones Adventures whale watcher. President's Day Weekend Whale watching trip with Baja Jones Adventures.

We had to be awake and at the van at 4:30 am to leave from San Diego for our whale watching tour to Baja, Mexico. The driver said we leave this early to avoid the traffic in

San Diego and Ensenada as we drive south. The drive was long, but interesting. Our lunch stop included an interesting cave painting site located high on the side of a

mountain.

Our first full day in Mexico began with breakfast at a small local café called Puerto Viejo (The old Port). Our group of 8 met for breakfast at 7:00 AM. Everyone was excited. I was bubbling with energy as we enjoyed Spanish omelets, tortillas and hot cakes.

I left the restaurant and walked to the van that would carry us to the Bay. I noticed heavy fog surrounding the town. I wondered if we could whale watch with fog like that. Maybe I said something out loud, because Baja Jones (Keith to all of us) spoke up and said that fog is a good thing. He explained that fog meant there would be no wind. The fog would be gone by the time we loaded into the boats and because there would be no wind, it would be warm and a very nice day. This forecast proved to be quite accurate. We arrived at the boat embarkation point, a place called Punta Mariscal, at around 8:30 AM. There we received life jackets and clambered onboard the waiting fiberglass launch. Once everyone was seated the boat driver quickly backed away from the dock

and headed slowly from shore.

Even before arriving at the Area #3 whale watching zone we could see dozens of whale spouts from inside the van. Once we stopped and were all outside the van we could even see some whales who raised up out of the water in an act called spy hopping.

Loading into the boats is an interesting experience here. There is no dock. Only a shallow sloping muddy seashore. We loaded into the back of an old blue pickup truck and then the driver drove out into the water where the boat captain was standing in knee deep water, holding the boat steady.

We stepped from the tailgate of the pickup truck onto a seat in the boat. As soon as all of us were onboard, the captain pushed the bow toward the whales, and climbed into

the boat himself.

Then we slowly motored away from shore, as our boat driver carefully found a channel through the mudflats. Within 5 minutes we were in deeper water and surrounded by

blowing whales.

At first we shouted and pointed at every whale spout. But soon we stopped because there were so many it quickly became “normal” to see a whale swim up from below and blow a spray of water 10 or 20 meters from our craft.

The day progressed with continued whale spouts and an occasional jumping whale. We enjoyed this experience for about 45 minutes. Somebody later said they thought themorning started slowly. They thought maybe the entire trip would be just like that.

But this all changed in just moments, when a huge gray whale slowly moved toward our boat. Keith saw the whale coming to our right side and said that this whale was going to come closer. It continued to approach, then sank beneath the water and swam under our boat. The whale was longer than our boat by almost twice. She was also wider than our boat and we could look over the left or the right side and see her floating directly below us. Her back never touched the boat, but it was almost frightening to me.

I think Keith grew excited by this because suddenly he leaned way over the side and plunged his arm down into the water. His arm and his blue jacket sleeve disappeared beneath the water, almost to his armpit. After a moment he threw his arm up and as water poured from his jacket he shouted something. Telling us all that he had touched the whale underwater. This started a rush, as all 8 of us pushed to the one side of the boat. The boat tipped up on it's side as if it would roll over. Keith moved to the opposite side and told us it was okay to try and pet that whale.

For another hour, that seemed like only 5 minutes we took turns touching, rubbing and even kissing this wonderful animal. After an experience like that how could we possible do better? Keith insisted we should think about this as a great individual experience. He said we should not try to compare it to tomorrow because we could have a different, but equally as great experience tomorrow.

I'm going to bed now. It's 9:00 pm. The sun and water tired me out. I'll surely dream of some jumping whales tonight.

Laura Soleil

Writing from Laguna Ojo de Liebre (Scammon's Lagoon)

Baja California Sur, Mexico

February 12, 2010

Here What’s on My Bag

With the airlines beginning to tighten their enforcement of carry on rules I thought I would pass along what I carry on the plane. The difficult choices we must make are those items we cannot live without and that are too expensive to replace if they get damaged in the check in luggage. I once put a nice Nikon camera safely in the center of a checked bag, wrapped in bubble foam and then padded by T-shirts and socks only to find the attached lens cap and UV filter destroyed. I was lucky the camera and lens survived.

Well here’s what’s usually in my carry-on bag. I took these photos after arriving in the USA on my last trip back from the Philippines.

 

Begin in the top left corner of the photo and working clockwise.

A lightweight sport windbreaker that roll into a small, roll to easily slide into the bottom of the backpack that I use as my carry-on bag.

Small tube of roll on waterproof sunscreen spf 50

Tic Tac breath mints

Cell phone

Headlamp

Small Ziploc baggie with toilet paper and napkins folded in it. An empty Ziploc is also folded inside this storage baggie to hold my dirty socks if I change socks on the plane. Also inside the T.P. baggie are a few IBprofen, a couple Imodium AD and a couple tagament in a small plastic bottle. One extra pair of warm clean dry socks

A can of Pringles. Crushable foldable hat. Sunglasses inside a hard shell carry case. When traveling from Asia to USA or back I customarily put the hat and sunglasses in my checked bag.

My laptop is inside a cushioned case that slides into a cushioned pocket in the backpack. Thus providing two layers of padding for my precious laptop. I usually carry the laptop charger and cord in the carry on not in checked luggage.

A fabric money bag that can hang from my neck by a cord, but normally just lay in the bottom of the backpack. Inside this bag I carry small sums money from the countries I’m traveling through, a few extra passport size photos for visas, my frequent flier cards, and my California driver’s license. My passport when traveling is in a special easy to access pocket inside the backpack or in my shirt pocket.

A small but really terrific Kodak video camera that is waterproof to 15 feet. The small digital camera I used to take the photos for this article, which is a Canon Power, shot A3100.

A thermal drink cup with lid ($1.00 at 7-11 or Starbuck’s) inside the cup I carry a Ziploc baggie filled with sweetener and tea bags. You can usually get hot water for free on the plane simply by walking to the galley and asking. Easier and faster than waiting for the food service. With this large cup you can actually drink some tea, not just have a sip or two like you get with those tiny plastic airline cups that they only fill halfway. Sometimes I add a couple Snickers bars to this tea service bag.

A notebook and several pens in different colors with waterproof gel ink so the ink doesn’t run if my notebook gets wet.

My kindle eBook reader I still use the cheap and simple black and white model because I only use this for reading books. This and my laptop are two of the most important items I carry.

A backpacker’s headlamp for reading. Frequently the lighting on airplanes is misdirected or cannot be adjusted so as to shine where I want the light.

 

Sometimes I carry maps in my carry-on bag if I’m going somewhere new and I want to make notes while I’m on the flight.

I almost never carry liquids in my carry-on bag. If traveling to an area with mosquitoes I will place a small spray tube of DEET repellent in my bag so I can dose up before leaving the plane. I might carry roll on style sunscreen in tube if I will be going directly into hot bright sunlight when I land. Otherwise I don’t carry sunscreen onto the plane.

I brush my teeth either using the miniature tubes of toothpaste provided by the airline or I brush without toothpaste. I just use the salt packet from my airline meal and sprinkle that onto a wet toothbrush.

In addition to this day pack as my carry-on bag I normally also carry my Nikon SLR camera with the zoom lens mounted onto the camera body in a smallish camera bag that becomes my “personal” item as customarily allowed.

This carry on back pack was purchased at Costco. I looked for months all over the world for a quality bag that had a cushioned laptop pocket, a separate large pouch or pocket and some small pouches and pockets to tuck away various items. This bag is now 3 years old and appears almost new. I carry it every day as I walk so I’m quite pleased with the bag.

I hope this helps you when planning your next adventure.

Keith Jones

Writing this morning in Covina, California

March 19, 2013

Author Bio:

Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.

Baja Jones After Action Review of the 2013 Gray Whale Watching Season in Baja

This year we added a full complement of whale watching trips originating at the La Paz and the Cabo Airports and targeting gray whale watching in Magdalena Bay.

Our first trip of the season to Mag Bay took place as one of the worst wind storms to hit the lower Baja Peninsula in many years moved across Magdalena Bay. This gave our group rough water, bumpy and very long boat rides to find the whales and in general made their first two days of whale watching less than hoped for. Our third day of whale watching was much improved as we moved to a smaller fingerlike element of Magdalena Bay and had some excellent whale watching and the hoped for close encounters our trips are so well known for..

Wind was the one element that affected our entire season. We had several days of blue whale watching where we were forced to cancel and change to gray whales at Mag Bay due to the high winds. The blue whales were here in record numbers, but some days we struggled to get to them.

Having said all this negative stuff about the wind, I do believe that every group this year had some very excellent whale watching encounters. The photo at the top of this newsletter was taken this year and is of Calabaza, a frequently seen blue whale off the coast of Loreto.

Our gray whale trips on the ride down from San Diego continued to decline in popularity. It seems Americans are less willing to sit in a van for 10 hours as we drive south. Our combination gray and blue whale trips continue to gain in popularity, especially with our many UK clients. This year about 40% of our guests traveled from the UK to see whales with Baja Jones Adventures.

This year at Laguna Ojo de Liebre was another banner year for baby whale births. After a friend passed me a forecast by some researchers predicting this year might see a dramatic drop in gray whale births, I was thrilled when the first census of the year proved that prediction wrong. We had over 500 baby whales inside the lagoon this year.

Better yet for the 5th straight year the whales stayed around longer than I have been used to. As I write this newsletter article the date is April 5. 15 years ago, maybe there would have been a dozen whales left inside Laguna Ojo de Liebre or San Ignacio Lagoon. This year there are still hundreds of whales remaining right now and these are the friendliest of the friendly whales.

The 9th census of the season, performed March 15, still had a count of 343 baby whales and a total of 740 whales count at that time. To put this into some historic perspective a typical average season has only 200 to 300 baby whales counted at the peak count.

So both blue whales and gray whales had really excellent nearly record setting migration counts this past season. I’m thrilled with this.

I am also curious to see what next year brings. There was a noticeable decline in the number of mating whale groups that I saw this year inside the lagoons. Will this convert to less baby whales being born next year? Or did more mating take place out in the cooler open Pacific Ocean just offshore of the lagoons?

Like the season ending TV show teaser, you will have to come back next season to find out what happens. But unlike TV, I can’t script this show. It is real, live action and reality at its finest.

Thanks to all of you whale lovers,

Happy Whale Watching wherever you see them,

Keith

Travel Tips You Probably Never Heard Before

Author Bio:

 Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.

 

Choosing extra leg space seats on airplanes; what to choose and what not to choose:

     A.  I avoid bulkhead seats.  Why?  They do have slightly more legroom, if you don’t mind staring at a blank wall for 2, 4, or 12 hours.  BUT bulkheads now have attachment devices for baby cribs.  Once the plane is in the air, the infant can be placed into one of those airline cribs.  Great for the parents of the screaming, crying, whining infant who doesn’t understand why her ears hurt.  But terrible for the flyer who wants peace and quiet for the duration of his or her flight.  I try to get as far away from bulkheads as possible. Airlines now typically pre-assign families with infants to these bulkhead seats.

     B.  If choosing exit row seating, check with a website such as seatguru.com to see if the window seat has impaired leg room due to interference from part of the door.  On some planes such as 747s the door frame intrudes into the passenger leg space, forcing the poor soul sitting in that seat to sit a little bit skewed sideways.

     C.  When choosing an exit row seat that is adjacent to the restrooms, you will be kicked, bumped and harassed by the crowd of people waiting their turn to use the toilets.  These seats are also noisy.  Be aware of this when choosing these seats.  If you are a person slight of frame or short in the legs, then one of the standard economy seats might be more comfortable for you over the length of the flight.

     D.  My first choice of seats on long flights is an exit row seat adjacent to the galley (kitchen area).  These seats do have some noise from the flight attendants, but seldom do they have people standing in the large open area where I like to stretch my legs.  On the flight I commonly take from LAX to ICN I fly Asiana which uses a 747-400 on this route.  The galley seat I really like on this flight is #48J.  And it is a 2 seat row, not 3 seats wide so the aisle is wider, thus my knees don’t get banged by serving carts if I fall asleep.  (I always choose aisle, not window seating).

     E.  If there are seats on the right and left side of the airplane that are equally satisfactory to you, then choose the left side seats.  Surveys show that approximately 60% of passengers will choose seats on the right side of the airplane.  This means when choosing a left side seat, you have a slightly better chance of having a seat with nobody sitting next to you.  Again, I want to get every inch of good seating opportunity that I can find.  This little known fact just help improve your odds of not bumping elbows with someone for 12 hours.

To read seatguru.com seat choice tips (the above tips are mine) check out this link:

http://www.seatguru.com/articles/booking_airline_seats.php

Good luck on your next journey

Keith Jones

Baja Jones Adventure Travel

Travel Tips You Probably Never Heard Before

Author Bio:
Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.

1.  Rubber bands, here are just a few uses when traveling.

     A.  Toothpaste tube that won’t stay rolled up as you use paste. Just wrap a rubber band around the rolled up end to keep it in rolled.

     B.  When packing for a trip roll your T-shirts and underwear instead of folding them.  Keep them tightly and neatly rolled with rubber bands.

     C.  For all those electronic cords you have to carry; neatly roll and rubber band them individually for ease of storage in a zipper style plastic bag.  Consider taping a label to each cord if you find it is a pain in the butt to figure out which cord goes with which camera, phone, Ipad or Ebook reader.

2.  Carry along a small USB powered fan to cool your laptop.  I promise this device will make your laptop live longer. If you aim the fan so it blows on you, that’s a plus.

3.  When going from inside air conditioned space to outdoor humid hot tropic air keep your camera, laptop and other electronics in a protective bag and don’t use them right away after going outside.  Allow the temperature inside the bag to slowly raise to the outside temperature.  This will help prevent condensation forming on the inside of your electronic device, possibly causing irreparable damage.

If you’re curious about this phenomenon simply order a glass of water with ice the next time you happen to be out somewhere hot.  Water will instantly condense on the outside of the glass.  Imagine this happening inside your laptop or inside your digital camera.  You know what the results will be.  Even if the camera doesn’t die that very moment, it’s lifespan has surely been shortened.

4.  Carry a thermal drink cup with lid in your carry on.  Why?  I drink tea, you might drink one of the new instant coffee drinks or some other powdered mix drink.  I carry my own tea bags and sweetener in my carry on bag.  Almost no weight or space is lost.  But now I can walk to the plane galley on my own schedule and fill my cup with hot water.  I put the lid on, return to my seat and enjoy my drink of choice without waiting for the drink cart.  And I can do this as often as I want.  Sometimes if you hand your own drink glass to the flight attendant when they are serving and ask very nicely she may fill that big cup with soda for you, thus giving you a real person sized drink, instead of the miniature 4 ounce serving the typical airline plastic glass provides.

In this age of air travel you need to gain every edge you can get over the airlines.  This trick is one I use successfully on almost every flight I take.

Keith Jones

Baja Jones Adventure Travel

www.bajajonesadventures.com

India – I Missed my Train.

Author Bio:

Keith Jones is the founder of Baja Jones Adventures, Jones Adventures, Tigress Tours in Thailand African Safari Tour and Butanding Tours in the Philippine Islands and has led thousands of people to Mexico and other interesting locations around the world. He specializes in gray whale tour, blue whale tour, gray and blue whale combo tour, giant panda bear tour, walk a tiger tour, shark tour, African safari tour, African gorilla trek, arctic narwhal tour and Magdalena Bay whale watching tour. He also writes about Baja travel and gray whales. Keith Jones is the author of Gray Whales My Twenty Years of Discovery.

A missed train ride results in a secretive photo session inside a secluded village harem.

I wasn’t having fun until I missed the damn train.  I read the ticket and thought it said 8:55 AM departure, but it really said 7:55.  This was a first for me; I had never missed a train, plane or boat before.

My first reaction when the security guy told me that the train had already left was to tell him to get it back.  It couldn’t just leave without me!  So I just stood there for a minute wondering what to do next.  The scrawny porter was still holding my large blue Samsonite hard shell case on his head.  While I ran through my options, the security guy suggested I get out of the way and let the other people who hadn’t missed their train, pass me by.  Chagrined at my selfish attitude, I stepped from the line and scratched my head, thinking about what my next move should be.

Finally I took a clue from the Amazing Race TV show that I had seen recently.  Following in some of those competitor’s footsteps I walked across the street from the train terminal to one of the many hole in the wall travel agents.  These agents specialize in just this sort of thing.  The agent I went to was up a flight of stairs so narrow that the porter had to turn my big blue case sideways to get it up the stairs.  As I climbed the narrow stairway my shoulders rubbed against both walls.

The door at the top of the stairs was open.  Behind the open doorway was a room so small the desk almost filled the available space. A small 3 legged stool with a seat about half the size of my butt was to be my seat.  For the moment I leaned against the wall, and placed one foot up on the stool.  The porter stood outside the doorway on the tiny stair landing. There wasn’t space inside the office for my suitcase and me. 

There was an aged man behind the desk.  He wore a gray business suit with a brilliantly colored patterned tie.  The red, yellow and green of the tie were so bright I found myself looking at the tie instead of the man.  He was smiling and stuck his hand out to give mine a typical limpid Indian style handshake when I finally glanced up at his face.  Still smiling he introduced himself.  “I am Mister Singh, your convenient ticket agent.”

I then gave him my ticket and asked if he would check for other trains departing for Sawai Mondepohr.  “I missed my train and need to get to Sawai Mondepohr” I said.  He pointed with a sweep of his hands, indicating I should sit on the stool.  Gingerly I sat on the stool which was so short my eyes barely cleared the top of the desk. 

“Meester Keee” he said, “Lucky you because there are two more trains today.”  Calm and a feeling of relief washed over me.  This experience was proving to be a bit stressful and worrisome.  I smiled with relief.  Then Mr. Singh my convenient ticket agent continued, “Sir is unlucky for u - today is birthday of Hazarat Ali” I stared at him with a blank look on my face as he tapped at the computer keyboard.  “Who’s Hazarat Ali?” I asked.

He finished tapping at the keyboard and looked up.  “This is a big National Holiday weekend here.  So unlucky for you!  All trains today and tomorrow are completely full.  Also all air flights are sold out, no tickets available.”  I frowned.  India wasn’t turning out to be much fun.

So far since my arrival yesterday at 2:00 AM I haven’t really had any fun at all.  The tuk tuk driver named Sambu, who drove me around the city for four hours was interesting enough.  But it was just a four hour ride from one temple to the next.  Temples are interesting when accompanied by fiestas or celebrations, but on their own, well for me they are just another place of worship. 

I just wasn’t finding Delhi exciting.  Dirty, you bet. Crowded, uh huh.  But fun?  All the women are covered head to ankle in yards of silk or rayon, so girl watching isn’t a good option here. 

I’m not the temple and museum kind of guy.  So all the dead people exhibits and really old temples just hadn’t outweighed the dirt and the poverty I have seen everywhere in Delhi.  Hundreds of men sleeping on the sidewalks and on the hard concrete floors of so many of the businesses gave me a bad first impression.

The really good Indian food I’ve eaten didn’t tip the balance either.

Sitting in the travel agents office, pissed off because my eyes don’t work like they used and I can’t even read a train ticket, I decided to get out of India.  Missing my train felt like an omen of bad things to come.  I asked the travel agent to try and change my flight date to Bangkok.  I would just stay longer at the Tiger Temple in Thailand. 

I sat quietly while the travel agent tapped gently on a keyboard that was taped together with small pieces of peeling silver duct tape.  After mumbling a few phrases in some language that couldn’t have been English, he looked up and said, “Mister you have no luck today.  Your Air India ticket cannot be changed without very big fee.”  He smiled as he said this, perhaps counting his tiny commission from the very big ticket fee.  Thankfully that idea didn’t work out either.  It was lucky for me all the flights from Delhi to Bangkok were booked full for the next week.  Otherwise I would have missed a great trip.

The travel agent quoted me $240 U.S. dollars for a car and driver to drive me to Ranthambhore.  This was only about twice the price of my first class train ticket. Since I couldn’t get to Bangkok, I decided to stick with the original plan and do the Indian Tiger safari in Ranthambhore.  Reluctantly I booked the car and driver with Mister Singh who as things had turned out really was my convenient travel agent.

Fifteen minutes after signing the contract and handing over my pile of rupees, I was loaded into the backseat of a very tiny, but nearly new car.  Saleem, my driver, said he had to stop at his home and pick up a few things to take along.  He left me outside, standing at the car while he went inside his house.   I grabbed my camera and snapped a couple shots of the pedal style tricycle rickshaws parked next to the car.

As soon as I started taking photos a couple kids popped up near me, smiling.  I pointed to the camera asking if they wanted their picture taken. . . . Of course they did.  Every kid I come across wants to have her picture taken.  The two kids quickly doubled to four and then finally stabilized at around 10 or 12 laughing children.  I snapped half dozen pictures, showed the kids the photo on the camera screen and laughed along with them as they pointed and laughed at one another.

That’s when I knew missing the train was the best thing to happen to me so far.  Now I was doing what I like to do.  Meeting the local people and just having fun.  While I was shooting the kids, some adults came over to us.  They were shy and sort of edged up, wanting to see the pictures, but too shy to ask.

When I showed them, it set off a chain reaction and soon I had a crowd of maybe a dozen adults and the dozen kids. Some were the tricycle drivers who had been lazing on their tricycles and others appeared to be the spouses of the drivers.  We were just getting comfortable with one another to the point where the adults had about worked up their nerve to ask me to photograph them, when Saleem returned.  He threw his bag in the backseat and I climbed into the passenger seat up front with him.  Without ceremony I waved at the crowd as we headed off to Ranthambhore.

The hole in the wall travel agent Mr Singh had told me it was a 5 hour drive to Ranthambhore.  We started at around 9:30 and actually arrived around 5:00 PM.  But that was really okay because I had a great day along the way thanks in part to a couple unscheduled stops.  On a journey like mine it really is the journey itself, not the destination that makes the trip worthwhile.

Camels, water buffalo and exotic women carrying all sorts of stuff balanced on their heads made for an interesting drive.  Some of the bags these women carried looked like they might weigh 50 or even 100 pounds.  These women just walk along, hips swaying rhythmically side to side in counterpoint to the load on top of their head.

After 3 or 4 hours on the road I was starting to get hungry.  I had skipped breakfast because I wanted to be sure of the toilet facilities on the train before I took a chance on eating anything.  Saleem mentioned that he wanted to stop at his wife’s family home and village, which just happened to be on our way to Ranthambhore.  I agreed to the detour. 

We turned off the narrow two lane highway onto a one lane paved road, then onto a narrower one lane semi-paved road.  Five or ten minutes after leaving the highway we pulled up to a complex of buildings that Saleem said were all owned by relatives of his wife.

Saleem suggested that I sit on the chamboy (a bed like structure with woven cane netting that is the standard Indian bed and sofa) under one of the open sided patio-like structures, while he let everyone know he was there.  By then several children had already gathered around us.  I pulled out the camera and the fun started.  With each photo, the crowd of kids (and adults) grew larger.  Eventually swelling to about twenty or thirty. 

Saleem finally dragged me away to sit with his father-in-law in the shade of a structure that seems part patio and part outside bedroom.  There was a narrow window opening in the rear of this patio wall through which a private courtyard was visible.  Saleem pointed through the window and suggested I go look around.  Looking through the window opening I saw two women staring back at me.  When they noticed I was looking at them, they pulled their veils across their faces and turned away, giggling.

I walked around the building through an arched doorway set in the whitewashed adobe mud wall and entered the courtyard.  The two young women again pulled veils across their pretty faces.  I glanced around the courtyard, thinking wow, just like in an Arabian Nights fairtale.  Half a dozen private rooms opened onto the courtyard.  Each room was a private sleeping area for someone.  I think I was inside Saleem’s uncle in laws’ harem.

I pointed at a three year old and gestured I wanted to take a photo.  The mother was shy and didn’t want her photo taken.  I indicated that I would only shoot the child.  She pushed him forward and I took the photo, and then showed her the image on the digital camera screen.  She smiled and pulled me to the second young woman so she could also see the photo.

Next thing I knew, the shy mom dropped her veil and pulled the kid over to stand next to her.  Then she bent down and gestured for me to shoot them together.  I did, I showed them the photo and then we shared it with the other woman who was still sitting with a baby in her arms.  The baby was all swaddled in soft silk fabric.

We repeated this shoot and look action a few more times, when suddenly the second mom – the one with the baby - pulled her veil from across her face.  She gestured for me to take her photo.  She was still sitting on the chamboy with her baby in her arms.  I took the photo, but was unprepared for what happened next.

I leaned over and showed her the photo.  Then the mom sat up straighter on the bench and nestled her infant to her sari clad bosom.  Quicker than an eye blink, she pulled her sari up, exposing a milk swollen golden brown breast.  The purple tipped nipple jutted out at me like the barrel of 45 caliber pistol.  I started to sweat.   My eyes darted around the courtyard, searching for any angry male relatives who might be spying on my activity in this modern day harem.  But there was only the other young woman and her baby.  After what seemed like an hour, but was only a split second the mom thrust her breast to the baby so it could begin nursing.  She smiled up at me and asked me to take that photo.

If the penalty for looking at a woman without a veil is a public beating, what penalty could I expect for photographing her exposed boob.  (I think the Muslims here in India are more tolerant than in the Arab world, so public emasculation probably isn’t the penalty for sneaking a peak here, but I was feeling stressed.)   All I can say is thank heaven (or Allah or Ganeesh) none of the men lazing in the front saw what I was up to here behind their backs. 

The mother’s brown nipple stared at me, while mesmerized I snapped a dozen fast photos of her breast before, during and after she pulled the baby tight to nurse. 

To this day, that experience remains as a taunting video clip, burned onto the forefront of my brain.  I can just imagine the torrid gossip that would have raced through this tiny village if any of the male relatives had chanced upon this innocent photo session.

I took the last shot as fast as possible.  But it did take a bit of maneuvering because I was distracted by my first view of what lies beneath the yards of multi-colored fabric that most Indian woman wear.  I eventually showed her the image of her baby nursing on the view screen.  I took her seductive smile as my reward (and warning to scram).  I beat a hasty retreat out of that much too private courtyard.  I can’t say that I ran out of there, but I did break a sweat and probably set a new record for the 5 meter dash. 

Saleem saw the sweat running down my forehead and asked if I was hot and did I want to sit in the shade?  I said no, I thought I would go take some more kid pictures on the other side of the village.

Walking away, I couldn’t help looking back to get one last glimpse of my Madonna model.  Sure enough, there she was peeking around the courtyard wall, the tiny white diamond glistening on the side of her nose, her veil pulled way back behind her ears, and her bare, but stylishly hennaed feet exposed so I could see the silver anklet and toe rings she displayed with obvious delight.  She laughed as I tumbled over a short brick wall landing on my ass with a thud and a swirl of yellow dust.  Still laughing she then gave me one last wave before I turned toward the horde of young Indian children patiently waiting to see what the funny Gorah (white man) would do next. 

All I wanted to do was to get away from that exotic and dangerous courtyard before that Muslim beauty told the entire village about our impromptu modeling session.

But it wasn’t like I could hide out.  By the time Saleem and I finally left this village with no name, I had at least 100 people gathered around, waiting for me to take their photo.  And when I finally did leave they all crowded in front of me while Saleem took a group photo.

It was certainly a surprising lunch stop.  And one that I won’t forget anytime soon.  Imagine all the fun I would have missed if I hadn’t been late for my train ride.

 

Keith E. Jones