On Christmas Day I ended up having a lovely, but very spicy, dinner in the Thar desert of Pushkar with a Bhopa family. The Bhopas are a nomadic musical tribe of India. They roam around the desert, sing traditional folk songs and sell instruments in order to survive.
The Bhopas are found around the Thar desert of Rajasthan. I have been told they are originally from the cities of Jaisalmer and Barmer. They are famed folk singers and storytellers. Real artists. By tradition, everyone born into this tribe is destined to become a musician. Their music is centered around the Hindu life, rituals, marriages, festivals and special occasions of the community.
Bhopa music is unique, as it is handed down by families over the centuries without a single written musical note.
GETTING INVITED TO DINNER
No plan is the best plan. On a day like this one I fully agree with that statement.
I was sitting outside of my hostel in Pushkar watching the street-life when a man carrying several ravanahatha’s, ancestor of the violin, approached me. I had seen him before. He had been inside the hostel a few times and knew some people there.
Of course, he tried to sell me his instruments. It’s his job and he needs to make a living. After I respectfully declined we had a fun conversation and ended up going for a chai.
Everything in India starts by drinking chai. Be it business, pleasure or just having a random conversation with somebody from the street. First, you drink chai then you see what happens.
This 27-year-old man named Harry, who is a father of four, invited me to come and share a meal at his village and meet his family.
Harry has four kids: three boys and one girl. The oldest is seven years and the youngest only four months. “Now it is enough. No more”, Harry said.
They live a hard life. Even though, the bhopa’s are not a caste, but a tribe. In Indian culture they are placed at the lowest level of Hindu society. They are uneducated and have no permanent home. Their only source of income comes from street performances or selling instruments to tourists. According to Harry even that business is decreasing every year. He told me on a good month he would make around 5.000 rupees, which is around 60 euro’s.
Their home consisted of two wooden huts and some outside wooden structures to take a shower or hang some clothes and cooking utensils to dry. One hut was made for cooking and the other served as the bedroom for the four children. Harry and his wife sleep on a rusty bed structure outside the desert and under the stars. It might sound romantic but in the winter it gets surprisingly cold here.
The village consists only of a few people just like Harry and his wife. They all live the same lifestyle and look out for one another.
Harry used to live an active nomadic life while he was growing up. Once he got married, seven years a go, he settled down near Pushkar.
This family is very poor, but they are rich in kindness and hospitality.
“We are happy, but we have no choice. If I’m unhappy I will still be here. If I’m happy, the same thing”, Harry told me. His English was surprisingly good for someone who has never been to school.
For dinner his wife cooked up some vegetables and made chapatti’s. It was tasty but the spiciness left my mouth numb for at least an hour afterward.
With a full belly we conversed about music and watched the sky turn slowly pink. He picked up his ravanahatha, started jamming a traditional Rajasthani song and I was completely unaware it was Christmas.
3 comments
Een prachtig artikel warme aangrijpende foto’s 🤙
Een pracht van een verhaal waar ik even stil van word !
Bedankt 🙂
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