Travel and a kid…

As a family, we like to travel, explore the world, encounter people and ways of life, share history, see beautiful sights, experience wonder…

Correct that. I like - for us - as a family, to travel, explore, etc. etc..

I suppose every traveler seeks or embraces travel experiences differently. As for children, they may be full of wonder – about travel or life in general, but as travelers, their wonder may lay in things that we adults can no longer comprehend.

My breath almost halts as I am struck by the serenity and sculpted spectacle of the marble temple in Ranakpur. 1440 pillars surround. The eye tries to capture them all.

One look at the pillars and my kid decides it is the perfect spot for hide and seek. In fact, she finds an energetic game for most destinations.  Notice any disparity? I want to stare into space, feel the poetry of the place. My kid wants to run around, embrace it with noise and vigor and movement, and even lend some of her energy to the place.

As adults, we appreciate the value of the voyage and the effort made to experience once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Children on the other hand, live in the moment and experience and verbalize that which is uppermost on their minds – which is mostly hunger, heat/cold, smells, tiredness…

Words as “we may never come back here again/ we may never experience this…” are totally wasted before a plea for ice cream, horse ride or a shiny, noise-making something being sold in the vicinity.

Often heard on our recent travel to Rajasthan, India:

Me: Oh, look at all that sculpture/art…
Kid: I’m hungry.
Me: Did you know that this stone carving is from the 14^th century and that it took them xyz years to construct it?
Kid: But you promised me ice-cream.

But then, you get the gist. You’ve been there too.

Now I am not one to give up. I like to nurture the lofty goal of trying to get a sense of ethos of a place, connect with the history a little (even if I forget it in five minutes). With guide book in hand, armed with information, I share snippets with my family.

Not one to wither before eyes that roll and glaze, and body that slumps, and interest that dwindles -- with forced enthusiasm, I continue to read aloud to my kid. My husband sighs at the disparity, creases an occasional worry line on the brow and then allows it to play out.  Yes. Welcome to our family. 

I stare in wonder at the palaces, the havelis, the monuments, the temples - the rich architecture, the fine carvings, the ancient paintings…
She stares in wonder at the stray animals on the streets and countryside. We have a few hundred pictures of cows, pigs, stray dogs and cats, a few inches of a fleeting monkey’s tail, a blur that was an attempt to get a peacock from the car, and other hazy pictures of wild camels.

 

 

Same time. Same spot.

My camera captures a corner of the Jaisalmer fort – the yellow sandstone structure that gleams golden in the sun.

 

Her camera captures the four-legged that roam the streets.

A few days later, we talk about a certain monument.

“Oh, I remember it well,” says 10-year-old. I looked at her impressed by her memory and enthusiasm.

“That was where I saw the dog eating Cheetos. Remember how he had his nose in the bag and was trying to get the crumbs out?”

History lost to laughter. Oh well…

All through Rajasthan, I read accounts of brave Rajputs, and wars and stories behind the palaces and monuments. Most receives lukewarm interest from the 10-year-old. Until we go to the battle place of Haldighati and she learns about Chetak.

Legend has it that Chetak, the brave horse of Maharana Pratap, was wounded by Mann Singh’s elephant in this battle, but carried his master across the pass, finally succumbing to his injuries, but leading the Rajputs to victory.

The story of this brave horse who did his part for Rana Pratap in the battle between Rajput and Mughal forces strikes a chord. She shows interest in history, and everything concerning Rana Pratap and the horse. Pictures in palaces are studied carefully, she wonders if the horse was black or white. After all, the picture on her book cover shows a black horse, yet the paintings in the palaces all show a white horse. I am amused that it took one horse to engage her in the entire Rajput history.  

Yes. Children are not impressed with a place for its past, or its grandeur. They like it if it captures their imagination – for whatever reason. They like it if they can relate to it meaningfully – in their truthful, unpretentious way (or ahem… if ice-cream is involved).

Back in Pune, she announces that on the next trip to India, she does not want to travel within India. It takes away her time from her grandparents. She looks at us firmly. I look at her in surprise, some disappointment and yet, pride.

Travelers through life differ – in the manner in which they live, in the manner in which they travel. In the manner in which they see the world, in the manner in which they experience the world. In the manner in which they travel.

And sometimes, we need to let go of our own and see the wonder from a fellow traveler’s eye. Sometimes, that may be a sight worth taking in too.