Varanasi ... A Place to Die

Christmas in Varanasi

We spent 5 days including Christmas in Varanasi, famous for its location on the Ganges River. It is the spiritual centre of India and the oldest living city in the world and has had people living in it continuously since the 11th century BC. It was founded by the god Shiva and is also the place where Buddha gave his first teaching. Many Hindu believe that dying here assures salvation. Varanasi is strikingly  different to Rajasthan. The state of Rajasthan is considered to be the poorest state of India but Varanasi does not look that much more affluent to us and it is certainly not as colourful.  However, because of its spiritual significance the city has many visitors and pilgrims and there are a great number of interesting people on the Ganges River, where all of the spiritual activity seems to happen.

I have to be honest ... there are some really dodgy people down by the River. This is the only place in India, so far, that I have felt unsafe and I would not go down there by myself. People were approaching us for boat rides, trying to sell us postcards, jewellery, head massages for Pete, hash and opium. Then there are beggars and men dressed up as monks (some real some not) begging for money. 

All the cremation for Varanasi is done on the banks of the Ganges and there are bodies being burned 24 hourly. Apparently they take 3 hours to burn. They wrap them up in beautiful coloured fabric unil they are placed on piles of wood to be burnt, the coloured fabric is taken off and they are left in calico. There are stacks of wood all around the cremation areas of the river specifically for body burning. When the bodies are burnt completely their ashes are thrown into the Ganges River ... I am not sure how completely they are burnt. The cremation spot is near a hospice where people go to die ... there are touters hanging around the spot trying to convince tourists to part with their money to help pay for wood for the homeless people who die there with no money or family. All a scam!

We have had to get tough in Varanasi ...  tough with people who came up to us and would not take no for an answer. Ignore beggars who came up to us because we are white but walk right past the locals. I got really annoyed at that! It does not come naturally to us to be this kind of rude, but if not we will be hassled until we say yes. There is no bad feeling as they move on to the next person. We find all of this tiring and energising at the same time. We quite like the ability to be tough when we need to, but it's tiring always being approached by people and feeling suspicious of their intent. Inevitably there is an angle and money is wanted. I think we are growing up ... learning to look after ourselves and speak out when we feel like we are being ripped of. I don't want to give the wrong idea ... we have had some really nice moments with people and there are many friendly people who have been very helpful and generous towards us. We have been very grateful for their generosity and genuineness ... like the man at the sweet stand in Jodphur and the two men we shared a cabin with on our overnight train.

While we have been walking around the various places that we have stopped at or visited we have seen very few women on the streets. I would say the ratio is less than 1 woman to 10 men. The men do all the cleaning in the hotels, all the serving. In shops it is all men. When we visit the markets there are more women and women serving, but still the ratio is low. We bought some Indian sweets from a store up the road from our hotel, when we walked in there were a number of men, maybe 20 and I was the only woman. I suddenly thought that maybe the store was men only, so I asked, 'Is this a men only store?' Apparently not. As we were leaving I noticed one other woman and I felt quite relieved, I found it very intimidating being the only woman amongst all those men. We noticed that the trains have women only carriages and in the local buses there are women only seats up the front. There are public urinals for men ... with no doors or roof ... but no public toilets for women, that we have notice. I find all of this fascinating, I find India fascinating and intriguing and I would love to return.

India is so different in so many ways. I am not suggesting that what we are seeing and experiencing is bad, but it is very different to the West. Our travelling has been so good for us ... we have been exposed to so many different places, cultures and people and we have found it so enriching. Sometimes intimidating and scary, but we have loved the interactions we have had with different cultures, people and countries and India is one of those interactions. We have realised how soft we are as Westerners and how much we have come to expect ... hot water at the turn of a tap, internet at the press of a button, warm homes at the flick of a switch, good food, privacy when we go to the toilet. It certainly is not like that here in India. Internet is very slow, we often do not have hot water, there are constant power cuts and as I have mentioned it is getting cold here and their homes are not insulated at all. There are 1,000s of street people a year who die from the cold. 

Anyway I ramble ... more photos ... some of Delhi before we caught our train to Varanasi.

Another parcel home. We went to the post office in a tuktuk and on arrival we were approached by the parcel wrapping man and followed him to his post, which was the sidewalk, over the road. Parcels are wrapped in cloth and sewn together as you can see in the photo.

Still Delhi ... I had to put this photo in ... all these bales are on one rickshaw that is ridden by one man. People work hard here for what they get.

Our overnight train to Varanasi. The trains are long here and run on wider tracks. We travelled first class, I know that sounds posh, but it is not. First class meant we had  a cabin that we shared with two men and a mouse and had the guarantee of an assigned seat/bed. All the public transport is packed with people. We left Delhi at 8pm and our arrival time in Varanasi was supposed to be 7.40am ... we did not arrive until 5.30pm the next day, 10 hours late! I love trains. I remember travelling on them a lot as a girl. I always wondered when I went to the toilet on a train where it all went. I know now ... it all goes on the track! I saw it for myself. 

You can just see the light reflecting of the tracks. It got draughty sitting on this toilet seat.

We shared our cabin with 2 other men a crop scientist and an insurance manager... they were really friendly and looked after us very well. This is Arun ... he snored loudly ... all night. I think he was the only one in our cabin that slept through the night. He has a son that is going into Cricket Academy next year, apparently he is passionate about cricket. When people ask where we are from and we reply NZ ... most people say Cricket. We seem to have a good reputation in India.

A very large statue of Buddah close to the place where he gave his first teaching as an enlightened being,which was in Varanasi.

There were a lot of monks and nuns visiting the site of Buddhas first teaching. I love the colour they are wearing ... a beetroot colour and I had to take a photo. The monks wear amazing colours. Hindu monks where a lot of saffron and shades of red. Buddhist monks wear red and orange. Jains wear all white. There is a constant haze in India ... mist ... and that is what dulls the colour in this photo, that and our poor photography. I am going to take a photography class when I get back to NZ ... maybe Gail can teach me.

A line of Buddhist monks having their lunch. They look spectacular to me.

An early morning paddle on the Ganges River ... this spot is right next to where their cremations are performed, we were not allowed to take photos. There was a flood several years ago and this Hindu temple ending up sinking and leaning as you can see.

The fog looks very Gothic on the river. There were quite a few boat loads of tourists, including us. We were supposed to see the sunrise, but it was too foggy. The fog closes down the airport and is one of the primary reasons our train was running so late.

Washing day down by the river. There was washing drying everywhere. People come to bathe in the river Ganges as part of a religious pilgrimage, while almost right next to them people are doing their washing, this happens all downstream from the cremation area. When I saw all the washing drying I wondered if our washing had ended up down here.

We went along to a Hindu religious ceremony on the banks of the Ganges on our first night. We really enjoyed it and there were so many people. 

Indians are passionate about Cricket. Of course they have one of the best teams in the world! We have seen lots of games of cricket with locals on our travels through India.

While walking along the walkway by the river Pete was approached by a monk, not this one, who was begging for money. Pete said no, as I was coming up behind Pete the monk moved on to me and grabbed my breast and squeezed it. I turned around and yelled 'don't you dare touch me!' A local came over and started to tell the so called monk off. Pete turned to the monk and started to reason with him politely until I told him he had grabbed my breast. Suddenly there was a complete change of manner in Pete ... he grabbed the monk and dragged him about 20 feet along the walkway. Yelling at him loudly to leave the area. People were rather shocked to see a western tourist working over a man of the cloth ... supposedly. I must confess, I was rather shocked at the monks assault ... I mean I am not young ... and it is not as though my breasts stick out!  

This is not my first experience of being groped by a so called priest/monk. In 1990 Pete and I went to the UK and Europe for 6 weeks. We visited the Greek Islands ... while we were touring around one of the Islands on a scooter we stopped to visit a Greek Orthodox church. One of the monks asked if he could have his photo taken with me and Pete said yes. There we were standing together, the monk and I and he grabbed my butt and held it rather firmly. I could not believe it and wish I had been a lot more assertive and turned round and slapped him, but I wasn't. Pete was taking our photo and feeling so pleased that the monk had offered to be in the picture. After Pete had finished he thanked the monk profusely and looked at me strangely as I walked off and did not say thank you. When we got outside I explained to Pete that the monk was a sick pervert who only wanted to touch my butt. I'm telling you watch those men of the cloth. At least this time I managed to be more aggressive.  

This is the walk way by the Ganges River. There are lots of people walking, working and playing along here. We would often stop and watch. It was near here that I had my encounter with the monk.

Washing in the Ganges ... we saw one or two women doing their washing, but it was mostly men. I think hotels get their sheets and towels washed here. Cold, physical work ... the washers stand in the Ganges for hours thrashing their washing on stones, wood or bits of metal.

As I have said before we love walking around and getting out amongst the people. We took a side street here and found some very cool buildings. There seemed to be a lot of silk weaving happening in this area. We think that it might have been a Muslim area because we saw quite a few around here.

This is the most colourful nativity scene I have ever seen. We found a Christian church, the Church of Saint Thomas, (one of Christ's apostles who was rumoured to have died in India), while out walking. We came back on Christmas day to visit. However it was so busy we couldn't get in.

We spotted this old building hiding behind a shop ... 

While out wandering we came across this man who is hand dying clothes, in a large pot on a small gas burner. I was fascinated by what he was doing and I loved the colours in the background which he dyed in the same way. There are some real contradictions for me here in India and this is one ... India provides cotton to many parts of the world that are woven and dyed here, I am assuming in very large factories, with modern technology ... but then we come across this man who is doing it all manually and doing an excellent job. He loved my interest and my request to take his photo.

Varanasi is known for its silk. I thought these silk pieces looked beautiful in the light of the shop window.

The chicken store! There are chickens in the cages behind the man sitting with a dead chicken on his lap, the throat of which he had just slit as we were walking past. One side of the shop is where the chickens are plucked and butchered and the other side is where they are kept in cages, waiting to be slaughtered. I don't think we will ever eat chicken again ... 

Now that the weather is colder people are wearing a lot more layers of clothing. A lot of men wear shawls, like the man in this photo. I think they look really attractive on them. I could see Tom wearing one.

Ever since we have been in India Pete has wanted me to take a photo of him amongst the cows. I have made several attempts but none of them have worked out satisfactorily. At last here he is among the cows on the banks of the River Ganges.

We really liked the age and look of this building. No real significance. Kind of hidden away. 

We spent our last day in Varanasi at the movies. We had the choice of silver, gold or diamond seating, we chose diamond (with reclining seats). We really enjoyed watching a movie again, even though we could not understand one word that was spoken it did not detract from the story line or the experience. Of course there was the usual outbreak of song at points in the film. We enjoyed ourselves and watching a movie on a big screen was a real treat. Bollywood movies are so full of colour, life, fun, vitality and enjoyment ... art duplicating life. 

Trying to leave Varanasi ... this is the local train station. Our train was scheduled to leave at 10.20pm on Dec 26. It finally turned up at 6.30am on Dec 27. There is a special "retiring room" for first class passengers where we hoped to pass the time and sleep. However the guy at the door said we had to make an on-line reservation. Pete asked how we were supposed to do that given the station had no internet service. The guy wasn't interested and Pete threw a bit of a tantrum, which didn't make any difference. We had a long night waiting in the cold in the station's cafe. There is nothing we can do in these situations we just have to sit back and relax. That was pretty hard though, it was freezing! Indians are pretty adaptable to the weather. They wrap themselves up in their shawls and go to sleep on the floor, or light a fire on the station platform. It all seems to work in the end. There was no Koru Club lounge here for first class. We arrived in New Delhi @ 11pm Dec 27. We managed to get some sleep on the train, but we were pretty exhausted when we got to Delhi. 

Pete is filling out a performance review form that one of the train attendants brought to us ... a feedback sheet on the cleanliness of the train ... e.g. were there any cockroaches, rats or mice?? No, but it was 12 hours late, nowhere for any feedback on that. The train trips were a real adventure, a test of character ...  we found ourselves really connecting with life in India. Tuesday we fly out to Thailand.