Tribal priest in deepest Rajasthan

1993 page from my diary I'm afraid - filthy night again so nothing to find outside. Hakra allowed me to stay in one of his dung and mud floored thatched huts when I visited his hamlet. That night he sang for us and any of his neighbours who wished to visit. I never found out how many squeezed in beside me as there was only a small oil candle burning. In the morning I was asked to visit his wife who had cut her foot with an axe while chopping wood ready to carry (on her head) to sell in the town. It had taken me 2 days to trek to the village and I was extremely worried to find that her foot was turning black and flies were all over it as she sat in a hut with two children hanging onto her skirt. I wrote a note to the pharmacist in town and gave Hakra some money to go and fetch antibiotics and hoped he could get there by another route than mine and perhaps hitch a lift. I boiled water and showed him how to deal with the wound and insisted the water was buried in a hole afterwards instead of giving the precious fluid to his dog or ox. Probably for the first time in his life he (a man) had to walk 1/2 a mile to fetch the water! Before he went he asked if I'd look at his ox. Oh dear, other than his wife's wood sales his only other means of sustenance was using this ox to plough and its back foot was dangling below a clean break below the hock.

We cut up a huge bamboo fence pole, split it and put two longer bits each side of the leg(to support the weight) and two shorter bits filled in the front and the back and then Hakra took off his 30 foot long turban and we bound the splint. I told him to leave it at least 6 weeks.

A couple of years later I was back in the city and chatting with friends in the wide road in front of the temple. Suddenly, from across the road flew a white whirlwind which collapsed at my feet. Hakra wiped the dust from my sandals and told me his ox was ploughing again and his wife had had another child! Sometimes life is like that