Jaiselmer, Part 2: Desert Festival

On the safari, our camels knew the way to go out of habit, so steering
them was not an issue. Pappu bumped along, following the trail
without a nudge or a pull from me. In actuality, though, camels
either have a poor sense of direction or don't respond well to
steering—as was evidenced by the camel races I observed when I
returned from the camel safari.

When I arrived back in Jaiselmer, the town was in the midst of a three
day "Desert Festival," which, I learned, is the highlight of the
season here. The festival features a "Mr. Desert" Contest, a
moustache competition, a turban tying competition, camel races, camel
decoration (or sexy camel contest, as I call it), and camel polo.
They also have tug-of-war, in which they pit brave foreigners against
Indians. Both men and women compete, but in separate rounds. I am
proud to report that the foreigners won both competitions!

I've jogged my memory, and I can't recall that camels have any
predators—who would want to eat a camel, they seem like they would be
chewy and tough?—so there's little reason for them to be able to run
quickly. I couldn't convince Pappu to break into anything more than a
hearty trot, and made the assumption that he just didn't have a higher
gear. I was proved wrong, though, at the camel races; they must have
something to run from, because when they reach full speed, their legs
go flying into the air in a tumbleweed of activity.

About five camels race each other in each heat, and they are given a
wide berth: the track is an open field; they merely have to make it
from one side to the other. However, this is no Kentucky Derby; upon
the ringing of the start bell, the camels are off and running in
whatever direction they choose, with no concern for their rider's
instructions. I immediately realized why the guards had been so
adamant about clearing the space around the field. They bust through
crowds at full speed, or go running down the road, careering sideways
off into the distance. Some break into a full gallop, but some, like
Pappu, preferred to trot, allegro!, jarring their rider along.
Determining the winner is simple: inevitably only one or two camels
make it across the finish line, anyway.

Camel polo is just as entertaining. The game is played the same way
it is with horses, except the field is smaller, made of sand, and the
sticks are longer. Whereas horses who play polo seem to know exactly
what they're doing, and will make an effort to get to the ball and
position themselves in a convenient way, it appears that camels
haven't quite caught on. What results is a hilarious spectacle of
legs, bendy necks, and dust, as riders do their best to make contact
with the ball. The Indian army competed with a team adorned with pink
and green saddle blankets. I'm pretty sure the army won.