This next story will be of Rally for Health: A medical auto rickshaw rally across Northern India. Four American doctors, one nurse, one physical therapist, six Indian doctors, two dentists, two photograpehrs, one American logistician and one Indian, one intrepid nine year old bogging his self directed study year across the world, four rickshaws, two support trucks, three trains, a mechanic and three hindi speaking support staff, four cities and six villages, 600 total kilometers and countless cups of chai, all in the name of mobile health outreach in the incredible conundrum that makes up India.
6 November, 20011
I go to meet the team, who are already 3 days in. After 26 hours of flying, I reached Delhi in the middle of the night, as most air passengers coming from the West do.We dropped through the inky sky and spilled out into the arrivals area, met by tepid air and florescent lights. Disoriented, I zig zagged through a melange of sign waving taxi drivers. With only a stolen five hour nap in the transit area, I roused, washed my face, purchased my first chai of the trip, then boarded a noon flight to Jodhpur. Immediately, a soft red dust settled into my hair, and sifted between the small openings in my sandals.
The rickshaw ride into Jodhpur proper was a fast moving kaleidoscope of color. The old city drew me in, literally into itself, down and around, through ever winding and narrowing streets. Pavement gave way to cement tile, then packed dirt. A spiraling cluster of stacked story buildings with rooftop gardens, naan dens and tea houses, all piled at the foot of the hillside. Overlooking the city structures, most painted a now sun washed lapis blue, a great chiseled wall of rock rises up to form the barricade wall of the Mehrangarh fort and palace museum. This relic of the 15th century tells the story of royals and their conquest wars. Intricate "lace" masonry walls, mirrored mosaic archways, and gilded chariots that once sat upon the backs of elephants, all give a sense of the wealth and particular glory of the Rajastani state.
As the sun set, casting golden ribbons between the shadows across the clock tower market square, it seemed that the sari silk blazed even brighter hues of pinks and reds, and that waving bangle bracelets glowed deeply along the arms of women, who shuffled together, their heads often covered, only a glimpse here and there of a dark braid of hair or the sparkling wink of a nose ring.. The Islamic call to prayer echoed through out the street, the chicory smell of cook stoves warming chopati wafted, all the while bicycles and rickshaws competed with market vendors, school children and long horned cows for a place on the narrow shoulder between oncoming traffic and buildings. Everyone pushed to get wherever they were going, as the day drew to a close. I had been in India for all of twelve hours, but I knew that upon reaching Jodhpur, I had arrived.
6 November, 20011
I go to meet the team, who are already 3 days in. After 26 hours of flying, I reached Delhi in the middle of the night, as most air passengers coming from the West do.We dropped through the inky sky and spilled out into the arrivals area, met by tepid air and florescent lights. Disoriented, I zig zagged through a melange of sign waving taxi drivers. With only a stolen five hour nap in the transit area, I roused, washed my face, purchased my first chai of the trip, then boarded a noon flight to Jodhpur. Immediately, a soft red dust settled into my hair, and sifted between the small openings in my sandals.
The rickshaw ride into Jodhpur proper was a fast moving kaleidoscope of color. The old city drew me in, literally into itself, down and around, through ever winding and narrowing streets. Pavement gave way to cement tile, then packed dirt. A spiraling cluster of stacked story buildings with rooftop gardens, naan dens and tea houses, all piled at the foot of the hillside. Overlooking the city structures, most painted a now sun washed lapis blue, a great chiseled wall of rock rises up to form the barricade wall of the Mehrangarh fort and palace museum. This relic of the 15th century tells the story of royals and their conquest wars. Intricate "lace" masonry walls, mirrored mosaic archways, and gilded chariots that once sat upon the backs of elephants, all give a sense of the wealth and particular glory of the Rajastani state.
As the sun set, casting golden ribbons between the shadows across the clock tower market square, it seemed that the sari silk blazed even brighter hues of pinks and reds, and that waving bangle bracelets glowed deeply along the arms of women, who shuffled together, their heads often covered, only a glimpse here and there of a dark braid of hair or the sparkling wink of a nose ring.. The Islamic call to prayer echoed through out the street, the chicory smell of cook stoves warming chopati wafted, all the while bicycles and rickshaws competed with market vendors, school children and long horned cows for a place on the narrow shoulder between oncoming traffic and buildings. Everyone pushed to get wherever they were going, as the day drew to a close. I had been in India for all of twelve hours, but I knew that upon reaching Jodhpur, I had arrived.
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