Our Lady of the Camels (1)

Yours truly is far from the only first-world person extraordinarily interested in the lovely beasts called camels. But some go well beyond the dilettante stage of enjoyment. Some spend their lives raising, nursing, training, mending, and tending camels. Gradually I became aware of a few who make a difference in their worlds. Ilse Köhler-Rollefson, a German veterinary surgeon, is the first one I will feature.

Raika tribe families in Rajhastan, India, have been struggling to preserve their camel culture way of life. Camels are treated with love and respect for their milk, wool, and as superb draft and transport animals. Families have been dependent on having camel herds for sustenance and trade. But changes in economics and ecology plus disease are decimating the number of animals, especially in remote settlements.

Köhler-Rollefson came there over twenty-five years ago to study for her Ph.D. And she stayed. The intimate bond between the families and their beasts impressed and inspired her. Despite being an outsider she was eager to help revive and improve the situation.

Written of a local camel fair:

Like many people in the northwestern Indian state of Rajasthan, she [a camel handler] reveres camels the way that Hindus worship cows. Many who have brought their camels here are Raikas, a special caste of camel breeders, who believe they were created by Shiva to be camel guardians. They worship the camel god Prabuji. (1)

Very gradually, being able to treat sick camels, Köhler-Rollefson was accepted. Treatment now involves both modern and traditional medicines, the former still rather difficult to obtain. She set up an NGO called Lokhit Pashu-Palak Sansthan (LPPS) to facilitate supplies and raise money. Thus she became an advocate and an activist on behalf of the Raika whose very identity is wrapped in camel culture. Nevertheless, Rajhastan's camels and rural livelihood are still in critical danger of eclipse.

From her blog:

"Meeting the herders is a humbling experience, seeing how the old Raika philosophy of “first the camels, then us” is still alive, the hardships and hard work they perform to keep their camels healthy, how many farmers appreciate the manure that the camels deposit on their fields as organic fertilizer, how closely the herdsmen observe nature and the effect of camel browsing on the trees of the Aravalli Hills. One can feel how camels are a crucial part of the agro-ecological web whose disappearance would undermine both local food production and ecology."(2)

Camel Charisma (https://www.camelsofrajasthan.com/) was a concept she created originally to operate a camel dairy. Now numerous projects have grown to support camel breeding, camel-related products, and biodiversity within the Raika camel culture heritage.

A pastoralist, Köhler-Rollefson in her words:

"Now I do everything that I feel is necessary to work towards policies and practices that support socially responsible and ecologically sustainable livestock development, and to develop alternatives to the “Livestock Revolution” which is one of the socially and ecologically most disastrous trends globally.  So I am variously a researcher, a writer, an activist, a fund raiser, a teacher and trainer." (3)

In 2016 Köhler-Rollefson received the Nari Shakti (Women Power) Award from the President of India, the first foreigner to be so honoured, for her contributions to the Raika pastoral community. It was *** a string of recognition awards. Her book, Camel Karma: Twenty Years Among India's Camels Nomads is available on Amazon.

Imagine dedicating your life to help renew a unique culture and livelihood that was slowly fading. Changing the course of her life helped change the lives of many Raika.

Our Lady of the Camels ... passionate, compassionate, and tireless.

(1) Jasvinder Sehgal, 18 December 2017, WorldCrunch (https://worldcrunch.com/culture-society/where-indian-camels-are-as-sacred-as-cows-but-vanishing-fast)

(2) and (3) ilse-koehler-rollefson.com

© 2018 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Varanasi, India 2009

Photo: Mary Ann Waring

Varanasi, the holiest of sacred Hindu cities, is a pilgrimage site where the Ganges River will wash away sins. This is where Hindus want to be when they die, water and fire freeing them from the reincarnation cycle. Early in our Northern India tour and knowing little about the city in advance, the visit was intense cultural shock.

Photo: Mary Ann Waring

Photo: Mary Ann Waring

In this Hindu milieu, oddly enough we start the day by going to the Buddha Centre where Buddha delivered his first sermon in about 550 BC. Our local guide named Krishna emphasizes the tolerance of the Indian system, accepting all faiths. Buddhism is now a shrinking religion here. We run the gauntlet of hawkers and street sellers between our bus and entrance to the site. Krishna explains some of the history. Of more immediate note are the beggars sticking their hands through the fence for money. Most are children. Tourists are told time and again not to hand out money but some do, regardless; big kids grab the money given to little kids. The Buddhist priests try to chase the kids away and admonish the dumb tourists.

Krishna enlightens us before we head toward the river. To simplify, corpses are purified in the waters, burnt up in the cremation fires on special river bank ghats (steps) and the remaining bits and ashes consigned to the river. Downstream from the largest cremation spot, living Hindus purify themselves by immersion, drinking, or even swimming. Respect for religious practices requires subduing our own sensibilities about the toxic potential.

Photo: Mary Ann Waring

We travel by rickshaw (bicycle-powered) as it becomes dark, not the most comfortable vehicle for about forty-five minutes. The streets are pandemonium. Small cooking fires, lights, colours, traffic of every description, wandering cattle, beggars. Many of the beggars are afflicted with dreadfully twisted or missing limbs. Women are walking together or alone, shopping. One large area we pass has no hydro at all. We are about to see an evening Diwali ceremony at the ghats.

India has had a drought for three years and the river now does not reach the lowest step of the ghats, crowded with pilgrim families, holy men, beggars, flowers, vendors, and not that many tourists. Krishna explains in advance before we load into a boat to observe on the river. Seven priests perform certain rituals with fire and bell-ringing. A young girl joins us to give us candles and flowers to float on the river as homage to Mother Ganga. We watch corpses being burned from a distance—two-three hours they say it takes—and hear the story of how an Untouchable family eventually became the most powerful in the city. Only Untouchables can handle a corpse for this purpose. They set arbitrary fees for cremations and sell the fire wood at exorbitant prices; Krisha's contempt for the system is clear. 

Photo: Mary Ann Waring

On the way back to our hotel, again by rickshaw in even more hair-raising traffic, somehow our rickshaw drivers manage to keep moving. One of the rickshaw men among our group has to be assisted by his fellows. He is an older man, and the long haul is doing him in. We are not allowed to tip him individually; tips must go to the boss and then be shared.

Next day we go back before sunrise, same place, after a 4:45 a.m.(!) wake up call. Greeting the sunrise is symbolic although omnipresent air pollution obscures the sun's actual emergence as we know it; the visual pollution is generally referred to as mist. Nonetheless it has its own muted beauty. Along the roadway we see corpses being driven, carried, or trundled toward the Ganges. Cremations at Varanasi are estimated at 46,000 per year. Now, more religious ceremonies. The Hindus do not mind us taking photographs of their preparations for bathing in the river. We go downstream by boat this time, witnessing the hordes in various stages of undress and immersion. Palaces of the rich dominate the river banks, five or six storeys sometimes. We see a yoga school in action.

 

Leaving the boat and climbing the steps, we walk through the vegetable market. Colour everywhere! Impressive veggies and fruits! Brilliant flowers! Boundless photo opps. All mingled with the occasional cow and deformed beggar, but for once free of pestering hawkers. Breakfast goodies have been baked or fried, awaiting passersby. The liveliness of the scenes—and no wonder why everyone mentions the colours of India—is in sharp contrast to the dirt of the streets they live and trade on.

Later to the Mehta Family Silk Factory with Krishna. Few of us opt out of such local pressures, which obviously supplement the guides' meagre incomes. Interesting to see some weavers demonstrating for our benefit, although most work is done in their homes now. Beautiful samples of intricate weaving on the walls. Upstairs, we are shown absolutely stunning bedspreads. The sales pitch is toward the most expensive items―why not? Those of us with budget concerns sit politely through it, waiting to scavenge the $20 silk scarves. Outside, a man with two cobras and two monkeys entertains us.

Photo: Mary Ann Waring

Inadequate, really, to capture the overwhelming sensations of the five senses, let alone the pantheon of religious gods and rituals.

Uncredited photographs by BDM

© 2016 Brenda Dougall Merriman

 

Jahnsi and Jaipur, India 2009

Gratuitous photo, Khajuraho temple carvings

One day it was a long drive from Khajuraho to Jahnsi through rural countryside. The roads were terrible, often being one lane. ONE lane. Our bus driver deserved a medal when it came to passing. Which he chose to do at random, terrifying moments. At Jahnsi we were catching the train to Agra. The Jahnsi train platform looked like this:

Photo M.A. Waring 2009

Jahnsi and Jaipur really have nothing to do with each other but you had to see this photo.

Because cow.

Or rather, a steer. (Possibly waiting for the Darjeeling Limited?)

So my flimsy theme is merely to show that India has animals other than camels. Go ahead, snicker.

Jaipur has elephants. Jaipur has the Amber Fort. They go together.

 

The eleventh century Amber Fort has miles of wall protecting it. The walls are so high it's a long steep way to the entrance.

 

Luckily our carriages await us.

Vendors pestered us to buy a Rajput prince's hat to suit the occasion.

 

The fort itself was magnificent (and huge) ... let it be said that India wonderfully preserves and maintains such historic complexes. My favourite part was the mirror room:

About this time photography began to disinterest me as a war developed between the good bacteria and the stomach invaders. Delhi belly. And here we'd been careful to drink beer (Kingfisher, yes) with meals, doing our best to avoid this nuisance. Dinner the night before in our small family-run hotel seemed fine but maybe I'd had one spinach paneer too much, or maybe it was the bottle cap slowly revealed at the bottom of my beer glass. YUCK!

Hotel greeter

Something to do with puppets

Hotel greeters had been eager to put on a puppet show for us but most of us hit the sack. Some of us thought forever. Did I say nuisance? Prescription Cipro and over-the-counter remedies were useless. Hours of semi-comatose state rendered the ceiling in our room and parts of the bathroom way too familiar.

Palace of the Winds, Jaipur

Next day we saw the intricately carved sandstone Wind Palace in the middle of Jaipur. Or so they tell me. That was after an emergency pharmacy stop where half of us loaded up on even more treatments. You'll have to look up this extraordinary "screened porch" yourself.

Never mind. We all know the misery passes. Jaipur, on the whole you were lovely.

To be fair, Indian elephants are not confined to the Amber Fort in Jaipur. Nor are cattle only seen waiting for trains in Jahnsi. You knew that.

Photo Jonathan Hodgson 2009

All other photos BDM 2009

© 2016 Brenda Dougall Merriman

 

Military and Police Camels

What an excuse for extraordinary photos! In the Middle East, South Asia, and parts of Africa, camels have long served in terrain where a horse could not perform. In fact camels still serve a useful role in strategic army and policing commands.

Probably the most exciting and popular part of India's annual Republic Day parade is the Border Security Forces contingent. You would scarcely believe a 36-piece brass band is included in the camel brigade. True! Even Google did this:[1]

Photo: NPR

Just as incredible is the mounted military pipe band of the Pakistan Desert Rangers. The old Empire has a long echo! In daily life the riders and their steeds are in far less colourful attire, musical instruments safely stowed elsewhere we presume.

Photo: Aamir Qureshi

But wait. Not to be outdone, how about the Royal Oman Police Mounted Pipe Band!?? Purely ceremonial, the band along with its camel cavalry exists to promote cultural traditions. Sultan Qaboos clearly has respect for his educational days at Sandhurst Military Academy and subsequent service in a Scottish regiment of the British Army.

Photo: sickchirpse.com

A photo of the Saudi National Guard eludes me. Qatar has a mounted camel unit, and probably so do several more countries of the same climate and traditions.

Qatar Heritage Police. Photo: www.news.CN

Of course what you are seeing are ceremonial dress uniforms and displays. Everyday routine requires their appearance to be much more suited to their desert surroundings. While some camel units have been replaced by tanks, others have transitioned to public law and order duties with high visibility as tourist attractions.

Jordan Royal Desert Forces. Photo: Warrick Page, NY Times

Photo: camelphotos.com

Photo: BDM

Placing Egypt's mounted police in tourist areas was a smart move. A quiet job, perhaps a bit boring?

Historically, army camels have been known since ancient times, at least from Hannibal's crossing of southern Europe. They were far superior to horses as pack animals in terms of cargo weight and distance coverage. As cavalry, they were equally fast and when couched would serve their riders as gun placements or shade from an unforgiving sun.

Recently a Bactrian camel skelton was uncovered in Austria, believed to be part of the Ottoman army besieging Vienna in 1683.[2]

Photo: BBC

The British became accustomed to using camels in their historic campaigns in Africa, India, and the Middle East. Australian troops formed the first companies.

Imperial Camel Corps Brigade, First World War. Photo: Capt. Douglas G. Pearman

Here is the Imperial Camel Corps's ambulance transport, an amazing photo from http://australiancamels.com/camels-in-war/:

The United States Army imported camels to be pack animals in southwest desert areas, a previous post here. Compare the results to Australia's importation of camels in the same nineteenth century period for similar purposes: Oz now has an explosion of feral camels whereas the American southwest has none. 

US Army Camel Experiment reenactment. Photo: Texas Camel Corps

Interestingly, one Australian police force is bringing camels back for desert patrols after a sixty year hiatus.[3] New South Wales has come full circle.

Camels are familiar to United Nations troops who now serve in missions in countries with demanding equatorial terrain, for instance Sudan and Eritrea.

Photo: http://www.defensemedianetwork.com/stories/camels-at-war/

It seems unlikely that the stolid beasts will be completely replaced by tanks.

[1] http://tech.firstpost.com/news-analysis/google-doodle-celebrates-indias-67th-republic-day-with-bsf-camel-contingent-296624.html.

[2] Jonathan Webb, "Intact Ottoman 'War Camel' found in Austrian cellar," BBC News, Science and Environment (http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-32145248).

[3] NSW Police Force, https://www.facebook.com/nswpoliceforce/?fref=nf.

© 2016 Brenda Dougall Merriman

Racing

Camel racing is BIG in many countries, notably the Middle East. Probably the most intensive business and the highest stakes are in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). Camel farms are an industry. Huge prize money is awarded to owners of the swiftest animals. A few years ago, some countries bowed to human rights concerns and stopped the practice of using small children as jockeys. Now, it's mechanical robots that ride the camels.

Lars Plougmann, Wikipedia.org

Camels and owners had to re-train to adjust to the change. The tiny, lightweight things wear jockey hats and racing colours to appear less freakish to the camels. Owners drive in their SUVs beside the track, monitoring the camels' speed and heart rates. They can move the reins and a whip with two-way radio controls to the robots' little hinged arms. Weird. I wonder how many SUV pileups they have. Camels are fast!

Luxor

 Other countries and towns around the world have adopted less intense versions of racing, with adult riders. Some have token prize money, some have annual cups. Often the races are held in conjunction with a local festival. More often than not, amateurs are welcome to try their skills from a stable of camels at hand.

Australia 2009

It's not surprising that Australia seems to have the most fun with them. Alice Springs holds the annual Lasseter's Camel Cup in July, only one of many venues in that country. I quote from their website:

"The family and fundraiser event is well known for its unpredictable and very entertaining camels as well as the brave and crazy riders. ... Racing them can prove a nightmare for riders and handlers but fantastic viewing for spectators."[1]

Alice Springs 2012

More surprising is the enthusiastic American adoption by Virginia City, Nevada for several days in September. Camels were not unknown there in the nineteenth century as pack animals. Today, experienced riders and amateurs alike participate. Last-minute coaching advice:

He does his best to talk us all out of it, telling us we can back out at anytime, that is until the chute gate opens, then you better just hang on. He warns riders of the hazards of climbing about seven feet atop the beasts of burden that weigh anywhere between 900 to 1,700 pounds. “I have some of the best camels in the country, but they’re still animals,” he told us one year. “The camels will have more control than you will, and they have an attitude of their own. We don’t need any wusses here.”[2]

Pushkar, Rajasthan

Kind of reminds me of Pushkar where our tour leader had once been bullied co-opted into the free-for-all camel race open to all comers. He tells me this news after the day's races are over. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Seriously.

[1] "About the Cup," Lasseter's Camel Cup, http://www.camelcup.com.au/.

[2] Teri Vance, "Teri's Notebook: No joking matter, I'm in the camel race," Nevada Appeal (http://www.nevadaappeal.com/news/local/12801274-113/races-camel-friday-camels : accessed 6 September 2014).