Carol and Tim's Excellent Adventure: 02/24/14

Monday, February 24, 2014

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!

Sunrise on the Ganga - Almost

Varanasi Day 3

We’ve committed to the sunrise boat tour of the Ganga and we’re on the go (in the car) at 6 a.m. with our newly-arrived guest, Janna from Winnipeg. A hoot of a traveler with lots of tales and what sounds like an interesting career with the CA government. Well, it’s raining again so we get as far as the chai stand and decide to sit it out and see if the rain stops. It doesn’t but we have a fun chai time anyway. I felt like I was in a Donovan song . . . 'Suzanne takes you down to a place by the river . . '

Mishra, our driver and some early morning chai drinkers catching up on the news.

Another patron.

Janna and the two of us (with our smashable cups). We decide to bag the boat trip and head home for breakfast. (Note Tim's new scarf!)

Our pals from Mexico City are leaving this afternoon and en route to the airport have arranged a brief stop at Sarnath, where the Buddha delivered his first sermon and established his first monastery. We arrange to tag along to Sarnath (only a slight detour en route to the airport) and then go on to the airport and ride home.

Sarnath is beautiful, green, and peaceful, except for the hordes of beggars. God, this is hard – if you had told me I could sit inside a car and stare straight ahead while a woman held up a sad, undernourished infant while begging for something . . . I would have said you were insane. But there they were, her fingernails scrabbling on the back window, the baby nearly against the window and all of us just ignored her. Some photos of Sarnath but not the beggars . .

Our sweet new friends from Mexico City.

We drop the kids at the airport and it’s almost 4 p.m. Tim and I are starving. We ask our driver, Mishra, if we can treat him to lunch. He checks in with Harish, gets his okay, and asks if we want ‘veg’ or ‘non-veg’. it’s been forever since we’ve had any kind of meat so we opt for the latter. It’s hard to imagine a real restaurant in this city but we pull up in front of a rather upscale looking place, Lemon Grass.

We get out, he goes to ‘park’ (I can’t imagine what that means in this city) and we get a table. It seems like a long time before Mishra shows up and when he does, he’s obviously rattled. Apparently, the doorman gave him a bad time because he was a ‘driver’ not a real patron. Drivers and drivees don’t eat together – period. The disapproval from the waiter was palpable. When we get home, Harish also seems put out – with Mishra. We tell him we’re very put out because the restaurant was rude to our guest. Fortunately, the food was worth it – yummy! I think we've committed a social, cultural gaffe but, oh well . . .

Holy Cow!!

Varanasi Day 2

Mid-morning we’re off, in Harish’s homestay car, followed by an autorickshaw to accommodate all of us. Now we see Varansi, and smell, and taste and walk in it. First stop one of the oldest buildings in town where Harish points out the architectural features unique to Varansi. Reminded us somewhat of the French quarter in New Orleans – somewhat.

Some of our group (L to R) Roberto, Richard and Sally, Harish, Tim, Mariana, Mishra (driver) and German.

Gate to a sacred site.

Back in the vehicles, one more stop at another architectural gem and then the real fun begins – the alley walking tour. Think Venice without the charm, and no possible way to orient yourself to the rest of the city, much less the rest of the world. If Harish had abandoned us in this labyrinth, we would still be there! There is almost no light, no ‘street’ signs, nothing . . . just a spaghetti jumble of small shops with a walkway inbetween just wide enough for maybe three people to walk and then hop out of the way when the occasional scooter comes roaring up the walkway.

We’re still reeling when Harish tells us we will stop for some ‘street food’. Here? Eat what? But we do (Mariana assures us that Roberto has enough drugs to take care of any ill affects) and Tim who has passed from grossed out to gobsmacked actually agrees to eat a cauliflower battered and fried in something (ghee?) and we all agree the food is delicious. Our chef.

There’s actually some sort of order to this labyrinth as we notice some alleyways seem to have spices, sugar, flour and others mostly clothes. Others are wee shops selling everything from books to chocolate. And we walk and walk until we get to the Dosa Café – time for lunch! Our group takes up the entire café which proudly displays a ‘Recommended by Trip Advisor’ medallion! How did anyone ever find this place?? The kitchen must be the size of the top of an end table as it takes a long time to prepare dosas for all seven of us, but they are wonderful! Tim outside the dosa café.

A bit more walking and then it’s time for coffee or chai! Harish likes to eat and shares all his favorite places with us.

Our barrister (chaiista?) See that sign ('Post')? that's across the alley from the coffee show.

Sally, Richard and Harish.

Sweet Mariana.

One more stop on our foodie alley tour - a lassi!

I couldn't get a photo of the process, but lassi man took a portion of yogurt, spices and fruit to order and whisked them in a blur in a container. Roberto got some photos, German looks on and Richard is fascinated by something! Note the pile of small pottery cups.

Then we have the option of more alley shops or a visit to the flower market. I jump on the flower market idea and after a brief stop at a street-shop where Harish haggles over a scarf for Tim (settle on 80 rupees – about $1.30), we’re into the flower market. The beauty is stunning. In this dirty, polluted city, here is a display of the most gorgeous flowers at the most ridiculous prices. And it’s a mob scene – all the flowers displayed on the ground with the sellers in the classic squatting position next to their wares. Harish tells us this goes on from down to dusk.

Can you tell I was fascinated by this! One of the reasons for all the marigolds is that all the temples are lavishly decorated with them, and it is traditional to put a small wreath of flowers along with a candle in a wee 'boat' and make an offering to Mother Ganga.

The last part of our walk takes us through the residential part of the 'old city'. One of the funnier incidents involved a very large bull and a very small alley.