Varanasi

Before we arrived in Varanasi we had heard some interesting descriptions of one of India’s holiest cities: “not for the feint hearted, “hard core”, “the Jerusalem of India”. Given the fact that Varanasi is the place where people come to have their ashes thrown into the river before they die, we had been told to brace ourselves for this intense city...

The train there (all 16 hours of it):

The 12:00am train eventually arrives at Haridwar station at 1:30am(it seems an hour or so delay is the norm here). We climb on exhausted, after a crazy scramble for seats, people pushing and shoving that makes the Jerusalem bus station on a Friday afternoon seem mild we get to our seats.(Not sure why the commotion since seats are pre-booked anyway.) Our seats are middle and upper beds, no place for sitting so we climb up and quickly fall asleep.

7am I wake up in the same puddle of sweat I feel asleep in, (there were no AC coaches available so we took sleeper class), 8hours to go....

At some point a guy with a turban wrapped around his head walks through playing a flute and carrying a basket. I don’t think much of it, just another of the many people that walk through selling everything from chai tea and newspapers to curry and rice. Then suddenly I hear Ashley on the middle bed below me jump, he leaves and then comes back a few minutes later and this time puts the basket on my bed, I think he is asking for money, I am not wrong, but there is also a snake wrapped around the inside of the basket, he left thank goodness but that was the end of my sleep for the next few hours.

Arriving in Varanasi: Ants invasion, Burning Ashes and the smell of dead people...

The hotel we stayed at was itself “interesting”... having arrived with a bunch of Israelis who went straight to Chabad (this seems to be the Israeli way of travelling) we decided to stay in the building since it was only one night... big mistake. We arrived home that night, sweaty and smelly from the overcrowded city, and find our bags crawling with ants-literally everywhere. We change rooms and I go upstairs to the roof top garden/restaurant where chabad had their succah to try get some “fresh air”. But the air is not that fresh, Chabad had somehow acquired the prime location on top of a hotel situated on the Dasaswamedh Ghat, or Small Burning Ghat. This is the ghat where dead bodies are cremated, leaving a constant smell of burning ashes. A huge pile of wood stands on the street just outside and throughout the night there are people lingering, certainly not a place for relaxation (at least in this life).

Varanasi traffic:

In India in general, road sense requires all the senses, all the time! Indicators are pretty much useless in the jumble of people going in every which direction so hooters (aka horns for Americans) are the effective supplement. Constantly, as you step in the street you hear the sound of hooting/honking as vehicles come speeding down the road in every which direction. When I got my licence I was taught the hooter was only used when necessary, to avoid a potentially dangerous situation, I guess here every moment is a potentially dangerous situation. Sidewalks do not exist in this part of the world; here you can be caught in a traffic jam, whether you be on foot, bicycle, donkey, motorbike or any other vehicle. I experienced this particularly acutely in Varanasi which I’m convinced is holy not because of its river but because people have to be god-fearing to get through the roads each day. We decided to take an expedition to some fortress Lonely Planet had recommended, (this is the one time that the “Lonely Bible” let us down, not so impressive but the journey there was worth it). After three rickshaws that ranged from 10 rupees per person to 100 (starting price of 500) depending on how desperate we looked we got to appreciate the perils of Varanasi roads. It is like bumper cars, zigzagging in and out of the traffic. At some point we even got caught between a huge truck and a cow, scrapping the paint of the side as we reversed before speeding of all over again. My favourite was a circle near the main ghat, in a strange way it reminded me of the circle around the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. I remember thinking when in Paris how difficult it must be to navigate this massive multi-lane circle of speeding cars. But thinking about it now, it seems so orderly and simple in comparison to this admittedly far smaller circle. Here every sort of vehicle you can imagine, (auto-rickshaws, bicycle driven rickshaws, donkeys, donkey carts, motorbikes, bicycles even the odd car) tries to navigate itself around the statue/fountain in the centre, while pedestrians attempt braving it across the road amidst the chaos and honking horns. No wonder the people here are so religious...

The River:

At least part of our day didn’t begin so crazily, after fun with the ants the night before, we woke up at 4:45am in the morning to take a boat ride down the Ganges and watch the sunrise, (a ‘must’ according to ‘Bible Lonely’). This time we were not disappointed, as you row down the river you witness a snapshot of daily life in this city, at each ghat there are people, washing, praying, doing yoga or meditating. As we drifted along the side I felt a little uncomfortable, like I was sailing through these people’s private bathroom or bedrooms as some lay still sleeping along the river bank. It’s crazy to see how the river is used for everything from a crematorium, to a toilet to a bathroom or Mikva (at one place a woman was dipping almost religiously). I had been told by my Yogi friend in Rishikesh that there are “good bacteria” in the river, that if stored in a bottle it can remain pure for years ( I googled it and it seems there is some truth to this.) I mentioned this ‘fact’ and someone on the boat looks it up in Lonely, and finds that there are over 60,000 bacteria per 100 ml, 120 times the official limit that is considered safe for bathing... not exactly a place I want to go for a dip.

An Indian Movie: De Bang

In the afternoon, tired of the intensity of the city and having been awake since 5am, we decide to go see a movie, which I had been told is an experience in India (although everything is an experience in India). We go se DeBang, a new action/comedy blockbuster that everyone in India is talking about. The only way I can describe this movie, is if you think of every possible thing that your could criticise a movie about and put it into one move: corny, over dramatised, unrealistic, clichéd.... Ok I’m really not being fair since I didn’t understand a word of the movie and there were no subtitles but you get the drift. A handsome policemen who always has sunglasses on, (or at the back of his neck which seems like his trademark), a beautiful, shy, caring female, they fall in love, there is a lot of action, gun fights and violent chasers in between (in fact this is how they meet in the midst of such a chase). Every now and then they break into a dance and then we have these musical scenes of at times pretty raunchy dancing. My favourite was at the end when he finds out the bad guy killed his mother, he suddenly gets a burst of strength and his muscles literally pop out of his torn shirt as he rises to beat up the bad guy. This final scene left me laughing so much I was in tears, but it made the whole scene worthwhile.