Jaisalmer Refuge

My driver had advised I not tell anyone I was American. The U.S. was about to begin bombing Afghanistan, and the Rajasthani city was only 50 clicks from the Pakastani border and had a large Muslim community. Mr. Balbir, pleaded with me…”The Ambassador Taxi isn’t mine… It belongs to my uncle and we can’t have any trouble Mr. Skip… Please! Just tell them you’re Canadian… they won’t know the difference. I can’t have anything happen to the car…”

I promised Mr. Balbir I would comply and assured him I wasn’t a big fan of “trouble” either. Still… it was so hot and one of the bigger hotels with a pool would let you swim all afternoon for just 50 rupees. And, since it was only around 3 weeks since the September 11th attacks, I would have the entire pool to myself.

I made my way from my boiling dusty guesthouse toward the hotel… just for a couple hours relief from the intense heat. As I passed through one of the Muslim neighborhoods along the way… the rusty loudspeakers fired up with very intense Arabic announcements. To a non-native speaker, Arabic can sound fairly agressive even if it’s a benign weather report, or a routine call to prayer. This time there was no guessing. It had started and the American bombs were beginning to fall. It was pure rage rattling from the little neighborhood loudspeakers and the locals were starting to glare at my obvious “American” stature with distain… all I could do was try not to make eye contact and keep moving.

I still had a good 30 minutes left to walk, but I just kept walking. That is, until a small group of Muslim boys surrounded me and started shouting in Arabic. I tried to just push past them, but they began hitting me with their little fists and kicking at my legs. I just took it for the first few blows, but decided I’d try and scare the little buggers off. I looked around for a good sized stone and lifted it. The boys dared me to throw it at them, and then I noticed the Muslim men who were previously smirking with approval at the attack, were now “daring” me to give them any excuse… I tossed the stone aside, took a few more blows, and just kept walking.

As soon as I was out of sight, I noticed one of the old stone-carved houses was open, so I ducked in for a little refuge until the mayhem subsided. I took this photo in the stone home, but all I can remember was being terrified that World War III had just started, and all I could think about was getting to that pool for a cooling dip.

“Jaisalmer Refuge” ~ Jaisalmer, India © Skip Hunt