I don't feel that my camera is big enough to
justify me running out onto the performance area with the professional
photographers. Who likes all those pesky photogs running around and
getting in the way of the dancers anyway? So all my shots of the
hundreds of dancers are distant and boring.
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The procession of camels are a little bit
easier to capture on film, but still the crowd becomes the main subject.
Sadly, there are no photos of the man lifting propane cannisters with
his four foot long mustache.
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After the parade, this poor
camel was giving rides to tourists in our hotel. He didn't look too
happy about it. I saw him almost squish a woman against that stone fence
in his anxious capering.
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On the morning of the second day, we ride out
to the National Research Centre on Camel. (Well, we ride on motorcycle
actually, but the research is on camel.) We see the entire museum there
in about 30 seconds. Then we get to spend some up-close time with the
camels. This one has the finest hair cut I've seen. It might have been
the winner of the beauty contest from yesterday. The best part is
hearing all the crazy noises they make, like an exploding swamp.
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Our hotel organizes a caravan to take
everyone out to the village for the second day, complete with a bagpiper
and drummer riding on the roof of the lead jeep.
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Both days, the festival attendance is about
90% Indian and 10% other tourists. On this day, we miss the camel races,
which are a little slow and random looking according to one witness. But
we see the girls dancing on nails and broken glass with flaming pots on
their heads. We also see the fire dance, where holy men eat coals and
dance on a bed of fire. I just don't get any pictures, because again,
we are in the back of the crowd.
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