Sunrise, Sunset . . . on the Ganga

Varanasi Day 4

Another go at the sunrise boat trip – skies are blue, forecast good.  It is a lovely, magical experience.  Just the two of us and the boatman making our way from the southern-most ghat (cremation site) - Assi - to the northern-most ghat (Mandigivar).  In fact these are the only two ghats still ‘working’.  And the sites along the Ganga are straight out of an NG special – people sitting full lotus meditating, women bathing, men beating clothes clean, and countless boats waiting for the sunrise.

Our offering . . .

Yes, those are piles of debris to the left!

Beating sheets clean . . .

On the ride home, I am struck by the sweetness of everyday life.  We see groups of school children, immaculately dressed, beautifully groomed – some walking in pairs, others being taken to school in a specially-equipped bicycle rickshaw with the name of the school stenciled on its side.  I see people sweeping up in front of their ‘shops’ – moving yesterday’s detritus into a neat pile, swooshing the dust away, all with these ridiculously short ‘brooms’ made out of twigs.  More people are washing at public water pumps.  And with all these cows, you’d think there’d be tons of cow poop.  Not.  Someone comes around and collects it and it gets used!  Big piles (and I mean big) of it are left to dry - somewhat - and then women fashion it into patties (okay pies) which are then used as a kind of finish coat on buildings!  Each pattie bears a handprint.  I had this flashback to making handprints with my boys in nursery school . . . 

And amidst all this grime, dirt, etc etc, float these beautiful butterflies – women in their sarees (that’s how it’s spelled here).  Every color of the rainbow, many embellished with sequins – Indians know how to do bling! 

Afternoon, another outing – this time to the Monkey Temple, another temple I dubbed the Red Temple, and finally the Archaelogical Museum at BHU (Benares Hindu University – Benares is Varansi’s former name).  Temples not very noteworthy except the Monkey Temple where there must be several hundred monkeys in residence (no photos at either of the temples).  They are everywhere and the sound of their scampering across the corrugated roofing is startling.  I’ve decided I don’t particularly like monkeys – they give me the willies.

The Archaelogical Museum is quite a treasure.  Glorious examples of textiles, carvings, sculpture, paintings, and a lovely homage to BHU’s founder, Malaviya (I forgot his first name).  A contemporary of Gandhi and of the same mind, he was quite a remarkable man.  Lots of photos over his long and distinguished career, and the final display case contains his medals and – his false teeth!  Pretty good set from what we could tell.  Interesting display of the works of Alice Boner, a Brit who moved to Varanasi in the mid-20^th century – talented sculptress who took up painting in India and was fascinated by the imagery in Hindu mythology.  No photos – we had to check everything at the door.  Oh, the cost for this Museum – 5 rupees.

We plan to attend the nighttime ‘fire ceremony’ at the main Hindu site in the middle of it all and see it from land but somehow our communications get garbled and we end up in a boat, again.   That was a bit disconcerting – being on the Ganga in the pitch dark, no life jackets (the only boats we saw with life jackets were the Overseas Adventure Travel ones).  However, the boatman was a charmer – insisted on taking our photos (many times) until he got one he was happy with!  

Red dots from our temple blessing earlier in the day.

 Our charming boatman for the ride.

Fire ceremony involves a lot of chanting, blowing the conch horn, and moving things with fire around and around and around and around.  All performed by robed monks in front of the main temple.  the trip home by magical light.

 But the big surprise was after we got off the boat, met Mishra, and started to walk back to the car.  A body showed up, carried on the heads of six men who chanted as they walked down to the cremation site.  We saw enough to realize it was a woman.

The logs had been prepared, cross-stacked, but this new body wasn’t going there – there was already one on that pyre!  We could see the wrapped feet (the body is covered in a white shroud) sticking out from one of the layers of logs and a number of men doing stuff around it.  The newly-arrived body was taken to the Ganga and according to Mishra, immersed before burning.  

Back to the body on the pyre, all the preparations are done by a member of the next to the lowest caste (I know, I know, there is no caste system in India – right!)  The actual ceremony:  sprinkling incense, lighting the container of ghee placed in the mouth, etc must be performed by a son or husband, in a pinch an uncle will do – no women anywhere.  And the man must purify himself before the ceremony – bathe in the Ganga, get a shave, remove his clothes and wrap himself in a large saree/lungi/shroud thing.  On our way to the car, we pass another body (I mean it's within inches of us!) being carried through the streets, on its way to the Ganga.  We can see the face clearly through the white shroud. Only super tacky tourists take photos of any of this . . .

Last morning and a few last photos of our home stay.  I couldn't resist buying a couple of the gorgeous silk wraps sold in Hairsh's Emporium.  Harish, Sally, Richard and Anna, a new guest from Russia.  I'm bowled over by the number of women traveling alone!!

Tomorrow, on to Kajuraho.  Nothing like seeing death up close to want to reaffirm life – sex!