Experiencing new levels bizarreness that the human animal is capable of inventing is one of the reasons for doing a trip like this and the 'rat-temple', which sits 30km to the south of Bikaner, definitely qualifies. For this reason, in a macabre kind of way, I was looking forward to this visit.
And so we went.
It would, I guess, have been optimistic to assume that a rat-temple was ever going to be pleasant, and there was little to disappoint on that score. There are, apparently, in the region of twenty thousand rats in this temple, which is a lot even if you say it quickly. I was, therefore, somewhat relieved to discover that most of them were on vacation or taking a siesta or some such and that only the emergency crew had been fielded for my visit. The relatively small number (500 or so) that were in evidence was quite enough, thanks all the same, especially given the revelation that you have to enter bare-foot. Lump in my throat? Hell yeah!
Yes I know that rats are clean and intelligent creatures who are loving parents and make great pets, but at the end of the day they are still, well, rats, and, lets clear something up here: these ain't the cute white ones with the pink eyes.
The temple itself is a reasonably grand building that, as with so many in India, now has a slightly shabby feel to it. My first thought was 'well who would want to do the maintenance on a building filled with 20 thousand rats' but when you get inside you soon realise that finding volunteers wouldn't be a problem. These rats are revered and it is considered lucky if one runs across your foot! As a consequence it is not uncommon to find people lounging around on the floor, asleep in corners and generally treating the place like the local park. I am sure it would not be considered inappropriate to hold the family picnic here assuming you brought something for the rats (incidentally, as an aside, a rat has just run past my foot in this internet-cafe, BLEEEEEE! Actually, my mistake, it was a mongoose; lets hope it wasn't following a cobra). Proof, if nothing else that you can get used to anything.
However, for my somewhat less stout western constitution the rat temple, whilst an experience I would not have missed, is not one I will look back upon with anything akin to the warm haze of youthful summers. Lets be honest here, this place is dirty, smelly and filled with scraggy black rats and my first impulse upon leaving was to wash my feet. Yuk! Yuk! Yuk!
Oh and to the guy who thought it was bloody hilarious to squeak and run your finger up the back of my leg. The laundry bill is in the post!
And so we went.
It would, I guess, have been optimistic to assume that a rat-temple was ever going to be pleasant, and there was little to disappoint on that score. There are, apparently, in the region of twenty thousand rats in this temple, which is a lot even if you say it quickly. I was, therefore, somewhat relieved to discover that most of them were on vacation or taking a siesta or some such and that only the emergency crew had been fielded for my visit. The relatively small number (500 or so) that were in evidence was quite enough, thanks all the same, especially given the revelation that you have to enter bare-foot. Lump in my throat? Hell yeah!
Yes I know that rats are clean and intelligent creatures who are loving parents and make great pets, but at the end of the day they are still, well, rats, and, lets clear something up here: these ain't the cute white ones with the pink eyes.
The temple itself is a reasonably grand building that, as with so many in India, now has a slightly shabby feel to it. My first thought was 'well who would want to do the maintenance on a building filled with 20 thousand rats' but when you get inside you soon realise that finding volunteers wouldn't be a problem. These rats are revered and it is considered lucky if one runs across your foot! As a consequence it is not uncommon to find people lounging around on the floor, asleep in corners and generally treating the place like the local park. I am sure it would not be considered inappropriate to hold the family picnic here assuming you brought something for the rats (incidentally, as an aside, a rat has just run past my foot in this internet-cafe, BLEEEEEE! Actually, my mistake, it was a mongoose; lets hope it wasn't following a cobra). Proof, if nothing else that you can get used to anything.
However, for my somewhat less stout western constitution the rat temple, whilst an experience I would not have missed, is not one I will look back upon with anything akin to the warm haze of youthful summers. Lets be honest here, this place is dirty, smelly and filled with scraggy black rats and my first impulse upon leaving was to wash my feet. Yuk! Yuk! Yuk!
Oh and to the guy who thought it was bloody hilarious to squeak and run your finger up the back of my leg. The laundry bill is in the post!
posted by Al at 4:33 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home