Of camels... and perspectives…

I may not be the best storyteller, but my daughter makes me repeat this story over and over. Yes. Most of her friends have already heard it and for those who haven’t, it’s only a question of time. For some reason she never gets tired of listening to it. So despite having repeated it what seems like a few hundred times, I shall probably repeat it a few thousand more.
Really it is just a silly silly story. But it’s probably made you curious. So here it is…

Long long ago, when I was in college, a friend and I went to the desert part of Kutch where my father was posted. He asked us if we were interested in a camel ride. Of course we were. And the next day, when we were in the desert, a camel was brought specially for us.

Now I had been on a camel before. You sat on it, the camel owner led it, you swayed front and back, you said a little prayer when it stood up and sat down, and at the end felt glad to touch terra firma. So I assumed this was going to be no different. Boy, were we in for a surprise!

The two of us sat on the camel. While I was probably still focused on the creature standing up and the strange sensations that creates, the owner had handed me the reins, given me instruction in a language I did not completely understand. “Pull something to go fast, something else to slow down, together to stop (??), something to turn right, something to turn left… did I mention – in a language I did not completely understand?? And before I could protest, explain confusion, incomprehension, he gave fat pats to the camel on his neck with some loud “hurrrr burrrr” more endearing somethings in camel language – somethings the camel understood perfectly and started moving rapidly - away from the humans we knew and felt safe with.

I looked at the reins in confusion, turned to look/ call out to the camel owner… but now many many feet above the ground, in the midst of swaying motions that human bodies are not accustomed to, with uncertain instructions, we noticed the camel was moving way faster than we liked.  

“This camel is going TOO fast. Get it to slow down!!” my friend screamed from behind. “I don’t know how!! Did you understand anything the guy said?” I screamed back. “Of course not! He was talking to you!!” And we swayed and swerved amidst screams and confusion, much of our conversation interspersed with:

My friend: This camel is CRAZY!! Get it to stop. (more screams)
Me: I KNOW! Any ideas how??? (more screams)

By now, I had pulled right, pulled left, both together… and confused the camel completely! And I realized we were now at the other end of the field. “Call out for help!” I shouted. So my friend waved – frantically with both hands. And the folks waiting for us at the other end smiled and waved back.

Yes. They waved back with big benevolent smiles – they didn’t notice our plight, our terror, our confusion, my friend’s desire to jump off the camel… No from where they stood, their perspective offered a view of a brightly bedecked animal in a scorched desert and two youthful, energetic teenagers. Their perspective clearly involved a fun and beautiful adventure for two young girls and no signs of turmoil. 

Given any situation or story, it is always interesting how different people remember entirely different aspects.

My mom remembers how they had specially decorated the camel and decked the (poor) thing out in all its colorful and embroidered and mirror-worked finery.

My friend remembers the camel’s face and mostly his evil evil smile, “Oh…I will never forget how wicked that camel was! Don’t you remember his smile??!!” she exclaimed when I told her how often I repeat the story. “That evil animal turned back, stared at us, and SMILED. He showed ALL his teeth and smiled in SUCH an evil manner!!! Oh that wicked camel - I will never forget him!!” was her reaction elicited at the memory of the story.   

As for me, I remember the general chaos and madness and efforts to figure out what to do and of course, my friend screaming at the back and talking about jumping off the creature! I really don’t remember how decked out the camel was or his evil evil smile.

And now when I tell my daughter the story, I always add the bit from grandma and my friend – for I love the idea of giving her the story with more than just my perspective.

As for the camel owner, I wouldn’t even dare to try and imagine his perspective on the matter – of the two crazy girls, reins in hand, screaming and torturing his poor camel. Yes. It’s great to know different perspectives. And then there are those that are best left unknown.