The Running of the Cows

Our first stop in the Indian state of Rajasthan was the city of Jaisalmer. Saumil was anxious to show us the Jaisalmer Fort, also known as the Golden Fort (or Sonar Quila). The fort was built in 1156 as a city within a fort. It's still a living fort today, although the population has outgrown the fort and spread outside the walls. If I remember correctly, I think our guide told us there were 3,000 people that lived and worked or had businesses inside of the fort.

There are many narrow alley-like streets inside the fort where there are merchants with small shops in front of their living quarters. At one point, the seven of us were following our guide (who also lived in the fort) through one of those narrow streets. By narrow streets, I mean maybe barely larger than a nice sidewalk. And the walls of the inner structures are built right up to the streets. The street we were on was about as wide as the one shown, but much more bare, with a few residences.

If you'll notice to your left of the moped, there's one of the millions of India's sacred cows. The open gate of the fort allows cows, goats, or dogs to just stroll through the fort. I don't know why a cow would care to stay at a place that has no grass, but there were lots of cows. (For the sake of my sanity, by "cows" I mean "cows" and "bulls".)

Anyway, back to the story. We were walking through a street as narrow as the one shown--the seven of us and our guide. The guide was leading the way, and I was second in line. I noticed a cow nursing her calf smack dab in the middle of the street. Oh, and I don't know a lot about the bovines of this world, but Indian cows (and bulls) both have some mighty fierce horns. This ol' girl was no exception. Besides that, she ended up being very protective of her calf.

Back to the guide--he walked to the left of the cow and I was just a few feet behind him. As he walked by, the cow gave him a small "gore" to his rump...and by rump, I mean his arse. I stopped dead in my tracks. The guide turned around and said, "C'mon, it's ok". (Yes, his English was very good.) Not that I didn't trust the guide, but I didn't trust the cow! I was scared to talk, but very emphatically shook my head "NO!". He tried to coerce me once more, and I shook my head even harder.

Then the guide said, "Saumil, come and show her it's ok". Saumil bravely ventured in front of me, and walked to the left of the cow. He got an even harder gore to his arse. Then she turned her head, looked right into my eyes, and I could swear she said, "You're next, bitch!". Not caring that her calf was still locked onto her udder, she charged me. The six of us (minus Saumil and the guide, who were safely on the other side of the cow) took off running as fast as we could on those slick stone pavers.

I have this little problem when I get scared. My eyesight just doesn't function very well when I need it the most. I don't know if I get tunnel vision, or if things just don't register. And again, my vision failed me due to fear. I jumped onto the first landing I saw in hopes of escaping the charging cow. Then I noticed I had only jumped onto a very small six-inch step! The thing that saved me was that the cow followed the remaining five of our troupe after I veered off to the other side. Right across the narrow street from me were all five, including my son. They had jumped onto a porch which was about three feet high. I was so scared, I didn't see them or the porch. I only saw that measly little step. And it was my savior, or so I thought.

I'm sure the cow could've jumped onto the porch with them, but the lovely old Indian woman that lived there saw what was happening. She had gone inside her little residence and gotten a large bowl of something--I assumed it to be grain. The cow stopped dead in her tracks and ate out of the bowl, forgetting about the goring she was wanting to do to us. I must've looked pretty funny to the group, standing on that stupid little step. We all had a good laugh, although it was a very nervous laugh coming from all of us.

That's a lesson to always pay attention to your instincts. If that little warning goes off inside of your head, listen and react to it. My little warning voice told me I was going to get an even harder gore to my arse if I'd walked by her. And another thing...when something like this happens to a group of people--you know, like a charging cow, lion, tiger--you don't have to be the fastest. You just have to NOT be the slowest! Since I was old enough to be the mother of everyone in my group and way too much overweight, I'm sure I was the slowest. Why she didn't end up following me is something I'll never understand.

The next day we were in the fort again, in a narrow alleyway--but this time it was on a slope. We were heading up the slope. And there was another one of those durned cows ahead of us. I didn't see a nursing calf, but by then I trusted no cow. One of my fellow travelers was right in front of me, but when that little voice went off, I moved to the left closer to the wall.

Just then the cow decided to turn around and go down the slope. She lost her footing on the slick stone pavers and all I could see was cow moving down that street very fast, with hooves and legs flying all over the place. As she went by my traveling companion, she scraped against Vaidehi's arm and left quite a mark on it. Now, if that had happened to me, I would've imagined picking up rabies or mad cow disease. Vai didn't flinch--just rubbed her arm and kept going.

You would think the cow goring was the most exciting thing I saw in India. Not quite. On the way to the main wedding ceremony, we were riding in the back seat of someone's car. Behind us, in a city the size of Indianapolis with five times the population, was a huge elephant with his driver (mahout) perched on top--right behind our car! All of that traffic, and here's this elephant transportation!

Just thank God that elephant wasn't nursing her calf!