India Pt 3

We opt to stay in a hotel just outside the fort rather than in the fort because the hotels are supposedly nicer with fridges, and pools and all the things you want in a room. We will pay for this decision. Siobhan wants to stay in the more characteristic fort, but luxury wins out. Another overnight train gets us to Jaisalmer in the morning. We almost missed the train because we know that each train has it's start and end points written on the side of the train, but unless you know which cities are the start and end points, this information is not useful. So the train that we were waiting for was actually right behind us the whole time, and it's only because I decided to ask someone where this train was going that we managed to get on it with 2 minutes to spare. The ride is uncomfortable, and Dominic keeps trying to roll out of bed, so Siobhan and I are up all night putting him back in. A fair amount of work from the bottom bunk, but I am in the top bunk. We actually put our big bag just to the side of his bunk, so that when he rolls out, he'll hit the bag which is maybe 6 inches below him, rather than the floor. He does roll out at least once, so that was a good idea. More than once I get out when I see his legs over the side of his bunk, like he fell asleep sitting up. The bathrooms on the train are just disgusting, as you'd imagine. There is a western style toilet one side and a squat toilet on the other and the western one is far filthier than the squat one, as effluence has farther to travel when standing, and they do stand. For everything, seemingly. Wear your shoes is all I can say, and try getting more comfortable with squat toilets too. They are apparently better for making the poos, and closer to the hole where the poos go, so less to slip on. Anyway, the hotel had managed to find out what manner of transport we used to get to the city and actually came to the train station to collect us. This bodes well for our stay. The hotel itself is a very modern take on a pre-raj era haveli. The room we are given is on the first floor. It a very spacious affair, with two window seats large enough to make a bed for the boy, a large bathroom and two twin beds. Pretty amazing what $15 dollars will get you. We unpack and the boy settles down for a nap just in time for the monsoon rains to begin. Within minutes, the the filthy, muddy street outside is a filthy muddy river, and the rains come down so hard you can't even see the other side of the street. Surface scratch number one; the windows were never fitted properly and not sealed, so the water start coming in the sides and bottom of the windows in small rivers of their own. Soon the boy's bed is soaking wet, and because it never occured to us that the windows would be unfinished, the water almost soaks all the way through his mattress before we realise what is happening. Our clothes are soaked. The bedding is soaked. We are using the towels to soak up the water, but there is more rain than towel and the job is not getting done. We are incredulous, as this is something we had just not seen coming. A new room is in order, so we get one, this time with a fridge too. We decide to get in the pool after the rains stop, so we change into swim suits and head outside. Almost immediately Siobhan notices a smell of sewage around the pool. Dominic and I have already got in the pool, and because the smell is emanating from the poolroom which is at the far side of the pool, we didn't smell it. Another thing I don't smell is chlorine. This is a worry. We get out of the pool, and I go talk to the hotel staff about the stench and the lack of chlorine. They assure me that the smell must be coming from the filter because the pool is constantly being self-cleaned and the insect carcasses must be beginning to rot in the heat and humidity. I've not heard of the pool that doesn't need to be cleaned by hand, so I am suspicious, and my fears are borne out, when by nightfall, red blotches have begun to form on Dominic's face around his eye and behind his ear. We agree to take him to a pharmacy in the morning and by that time the red spots have spread across his forehead his cheeks and arms, and the existing spots have got much worse, crusting up his eye and cracking and bleeding behind his ear. I am just furious. How is the hotel allowed to get away with this? The trip to the pharmacy is not enough so we find out where a good clinic is and go immediately. To their credit, the manager offers to take us in the hotel van, but they don't offer to pay for the doctor visit or the medication. In India, it's actually possible to buy your medical diploma and license online after having passed the most cursory of exams. Fortunately where we are taken is a fertility clinic, so we feel more confident about the medical staff's abilities. A sign on the wall states that sex selection is illegal. Sex selection actually involves aborting female foetuses because boys are more desirable. I knew this existed, but it's jarring knowing that you're in a place where this is even considered, never mind practised. The doctor orders blood tests, which are performed immediately on site, and Dominic is a trooper, never making a sound. I think it's because of the promise of chocolate, which again the hotel manager supplies, free of charge. I think this man is genuinely remorseful, so I am a little more gentle with him. I am less so with the rest of the hotel staff. The diagnosis is an allergic reaction to the filth and bacteria in the pool water, and an armload of creams, ointments, powders and syrups are prescribed and purchased. Just furious now. We decide to go to the fort, which is still occupied and operated as a village. Its a very cool place, with it's streets exactly as you'd imagine they'd have been 200 years ago. Only the contents of the shops are different, with tourist souvenirs and internet cafes filling the retails spaces and hotels with rooftop restaurants taking up the remainder. A little shopping for things to bring home for family is what we planned, but the sales technique is relentlessly pushy, so we run from most every shop. Siobhan is terrified of the dark. If it's too dark, she actually begins to panic and scream, explaining it feels like the dark has mass, and it closes in, weighing on her chest and blocking her breathing. So naturally the power goes out at about 9 pm. It's so dark and the sky is overcast, so there isn't even any star or moonlight to break up the blackness, and Siobhan begins a serious freak out. It might have been helped by a cool breeze, but the night is deathly still, stifling with heat, humidity and darkness. Fortunately I have the torch (thanks again Wade), so we're relieved of total darkness, but the batteries won't last all night, so I try to get some candles from the staff. They find some for us but again the candles won't last. Where is this back up generator which was advertised in the listing? I'm told that everyone has one, but no one puts them on. Not good enough. They offer to give us a room on the roof which is cooled a bit by the slight breeze, and we accept. It's actually a nice room, a shame we can't really appreciate it. I have no fear of the dark, and it seems very strange to me that a full grown woman would have a fear of the dark, but a phobia is more fully fleshed out than just a fear, and it doesn't care if it's unreasonable. I have done what I can to make Siobhan feel as comfortable as I can, which is only marginally better, because I can't make the wind blow or the sun rise, but she falls asleep eventually and the power returns. As it happens, the power authority can be bought off to turn the power back on. They had turned it off due to the rains, but rupees can buy back the light. It goes off and on intermittently throughout the next day. We visit the fort again for dinner, having made the decision to move on the next day. The restaurant has 5 staff members that we can see and only one other table, but it still takes an hour for them to make a grilled cheese sandwich. Just not happy, and getting less so by the minute. We leave and try to find an autorickshaw back to the hotel, but the drivers are mostly drunk by this time, we can smell the booze on them and they are beligerent. Not getting in that, we decide to just walk back in the dark. The streets are not so much streets as piles of broken asphalt and rubbish, with livestock sleeping in the middle of it, so we go slow and finally make it to the little lane on which our hotel is situated. A family of pigs is snacking on a large heap of garbage about 50 feet from the hotel. Really, just appalling. The manager has offered to take us to the train station which is good of him. I'm learning to hate India, and we have opted against going to Jodhpur which is another big, filthy city. I hope the next place, a little town called Pushcar by way of Ajmer is better. I can't wait to leave, and we begin discussing whether we even want to stay in India or go back to Thailand for the remainder of our trip. Dominic still needs to be cared for, and his caboose has been a little loose, and with everything he's been put through, we'd just rather be nearer to competant medical care. We'll see what Pushcar brings.