A photo

It started in Mumbai. With a promise of going to a small town near Udaipur. In the euphoria of the moment it did not seem much to do 200 kilometers to take a picture. It meant going to an “untouristic” place. Something I always wanted to do in this trip.

In Udaipur, and away from the excitement of the moment, it no longer seemed such a good idea. Only with two days, I would have to make a choice between knowing better Udaipur or going to Rajsamand. The word was given, and I would not back down. I left happy with the decision and anxious to know what was coming. I rickshaw my way to the bus stand. A few questions and got the first surprise: I was buying a bus ticket in a... ticket office.

Minutes later I was leaving the station in a bus with some smooth parts between the bumps of road traffic crashes. A good harbinger of stability of the trip. And here they do justice to the warnings. Among a more abrupt braking or a quasi-impossible overtaking, the trip was a thrill. To relax I have a landscape that fills the eye. From the top of a semi-arid mountain, we have a broad vision for this region. Here time is harder, and the vegetation reflects this change. The geography of the region changes the gardens that I cross. The large estates of the south give way to small gardens in the north. Unifying it a green only possible in this country.

Delighted with the trip, it's time to worry about the final destination. Rajsamand is a stoppage in transit, so I have to find the right time to leave. If I knew Hindi it wouldn't be a problem, but it isn't the case. I resort to a trick that saved me in similar situations. The sites of commerce have a poster advertising with its address. You just have to take into account two details: (a) if the site is small are most cards - if not all - are in Hindi, (b) sometimes advertises an address of some shop elsewhere. A simple majority rule solves the problem.

With that in mind, I started my research. After a while since I read Rajsamand everywhere. After all the site wasn't small. Without great difficulty I was where I wanted to be. And what a place! It was like finding a small paradise. This was truly an Indian village. Cannot find any tourist. There is all the colors, details and features you usually see spread across multiple locations. But all live and more intense. I reached the roundabout and meet the cows and pigs that walk by. The commerce stall that circumvent the street with their fruit, candy, food, etc ... In the middle, and through the traffic that follows its own logic, I find people and their colorful saris. Many look at me with that question: "What is that stranger  doing here?" Children, less given to philosophies, just smile.

I begin my research, and easily find someone willing to help. Tells me that the school is located in the street leaving the roundabout. I follow this road, which remains very Indian, and when the time comes - after a few meters without finding the school – I ask again. “It's nearby” they answer but I awake enough curiosity to have a brief conversation. I explain  what I did, what I do and what I'm going to do there. They return with a smile and a compliment to our country.

I arrive at my destination. A land where a family of Indian pigs makes its meal, and a wall limits the space. I go to the gate and shoot the picture I wanted. Not content with the result, I decided to enter. At first I only see students rushing to class. Shortly after I meet the teachers. Here the teachers' room is on the street. They stares at this stranger and I try to change this situation. After the ice is broken, I'm greeted with enormous sympathy. They tell me to sit, bring me tea, and go to the street to buy sweets.

I'll explain my story and tell a little about myself. I realize that taking a photo inside is not simple, but they try to satisfy my request. I get to know the reality of this space. As it is old, and was part of the royal complex. Discover what kind of classes are over there - it's a secondary school - and where are the classrooms. After a while a teacher asks me to give him the pleasure of showing the village. I cannot believe my luck.

And before I realized, I was hanging on to his bike - a Hero Honda - crossing the traffic. Something that is in itself a highlight on a trip to this country. We understand better how this dynamic works, and it doesn't seem so chaotic. After surrounding the small mountain, we reached a large lake. A construction of 19th century, which allows to deliver clean water to all surrounding villages. A lake created by a small dam. In it, three temples and places of baths make up this building. They are finely decorated and built of white marble. Its reliefs have that typical look of a lost temple. The lake and the mountains that surround it give you a scenario hard to match.

We now head to another location: the Children's Peace Palace of Anuvibha. A house that promotes a culture of peace and nonviolence in children by doing a holiday camp for 20 days. Also - and as a result of this organization - medical specialists travel to these facilities from Mumbai. For 3 days they meet the people of this region. Perhaps the only possibility of having access to such care. I realize the influence that this site can have in life, the reality of this region and I am humbled. What we take for granted back home, is a luxury here, only accessible to some by generous gestures.

We now go for the third highlight. The temple which the architect of the dam built in honor of his God. It is the highest point in the region. Though small is beautiful. The marble is finely carved and decorated, with a technique that no longer exists. Ascending the staircase we find the ancient and modern together. Although a temple, the area is also used for the construction of new pieces to one another in construction. The teacher leads me to the top of this place. And how beautiful it is. On one side we see the entire lake and the mountains that flank it. On the other, Rajsamand, the green valley and the small rounded mountains. The horizon line is a diffuse and we are small with such a view.

After this moment it is time to return. He takes me to the bus stop, and I do not know how to thank him. I'm back in the busy street life. And with an Indian punctuality, I catch my bus. While going back I feel that everything has a meaning. A simple picture became a magical day and a delay allows me to go back followed by a beautiful sunset.