Rishikesh is beautiful, in the heart of the mountains on the banks of the Ganges, its full of tourists centres advertising trekking, white-water rafting, yoga, meditation (all of which I plan to try) but its also a Indian village, with all the poverty, dirt and character that goes with it. I feel it’s too soon for any deep reflections but just some impressions/moments so far:
Slumdog Millionaire?
So its easy to feel like a millionaire here because things are so ridiculously cheap, to covert:
Room at Swiss Cottage:$4 (Beautiful view, restaurant, yoga centre, computer room, massage centre all on site)
Yoga: $2
Massage: $8
Delicious Indian meal on the Ganges, sitting on cushions on the floor: $3
You get the point...
Its amazing being able to do, eat, (Rishikesh is almost 100% vegetarian), buy whatever you want with almost no price limitation. At the same time its a bit strange seeing how poor people are, as I said too early for reflections but from first impression, people seem happy despite poverty or at least they don’t seem to be suffering. We have already witnessed processions, dancing, music... at least on a day to day level things seem ok. (I guess like all poor people its when the unexpected occurs that they run into problems- eg. If the rains continue and houses flood etc)
Cows:
You know how on every street corner in any Western City there is usually a Mc Donalds? Well it’s the same here, the only difference is that the cows have not been processed yet (and have the fortune that they probably never will be since they are Holy to Hindus). Everywhere you look, cows wondering around, living the good life.
Yom Kippur: Israelis are everywhere, and their presence is very much felt; Hebrew signs, restaurants serve Shakshuka, hummus, Israeli salad- you name it, the keyboards al have have Hebrew letters on them. But I was still surprised when on Yom Kippur we arrive at the Chabbad we see perhaps 100 Israelis eating the pre-fast meal and then another 200 or so that evening at the Neilah service (although earlier on in the day had to wait until 10:30 to scrape together a Minyan), it’s really fascinating.
Bed time?
People sleep almost everywhere, when we arrived in Delhi at 5am Wednesday morning, there where people sleeping in their Rikshaws, under them, in stalls, in the street. At the train station people spread out sheets and lie on the floor; restaurants, at night turn into bedrooms with people sleeping on the tables, and at our hostel the guys sleep in the office at night, readily available if anyone has problems.
Inspiring:
Gowan, the guy who has become our rikshaw driver, has a son that is hoping to do his MBA at Sussex University in England. Meanwhile he is working in Singapore to earn the money, he has a degree in Business form an Indian University. His daughter is studying technology and working for one of the big digital companies in India. Gowan himself has only been out of Rishikesh a handful of times in his life and has never left India. It seems crazy that this man who lives in a seemingly parallel universe has a son that could be a classmate with me in the West.
Not so Inspiring:
Everyone told me about the filth in India, now I get it. There is literally dirt everywhere, the non-biodegradable plastic containers lying everywhere, (I feel like I have played my own part in destroying the planet with all the water bottles I have used), toilets- don’t ask! (I’m becoming an expert already at the hole in the ground thing) and just general dirt. But perhaps the worst for me was at the railway station in Delhi, at the platform there was a little girl in a blue dress sitting in front of me. I notice her father moves her and see liquid in the place she was previously sitting, I realise she has just peed. The father places her down on the other side of him where she proceeds to rub herself dry on the dirty cement floor. This is also India...
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