Death and the maiden
Trip Start Aug 16, 2005
63Trip End Apr 14, 2006
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Where I stayed
Hotel Haifa, Bhelpura district
The best way to describe the city is as India concentrated, intensified and magnified.
There seems to be an incredible number of auto and cycle rickshaws per square metre and their wallahs are more persistent than ever. Walking along the road, a lot of them will turn their vehicle around to shadow you, plying for trade. Some of them guess where you might want to go: 'Main ghat?', 'Old City?' etc
There is also a huge population of cows, bulls and water buffaloes wandering the streets, eating rubbish and generally getting in the way. The bulls are enormous, with genitals to match, and although being in India has helped me get over my fear of cows, I instinctively gave them a wide birth. In the narrow alleyways though this is sometimes not possible. Once we had to squeeze between 2 stationery cows to get past and another time, Flic and I had to hide in a doorway to let past a troupe of cows and a bull that was trying to mount them!
We treated ourselves and stayed in quite a posh hotel, with air-con, in a slightly quieter area outside the city centre. Air-con made sleeping possible in the intense heat, but the higher price was a bit of a rip-off because Varanasi has so many power cuts that a lot of the time it was not working. Luckily our hotel had a generator which powered the ceiling fans at those times.
We ventured out into the heat and bustle on the first morning, heading along a back street towards a nearby temple. I was wearing flipflops that were already feeling slippery with sweat and grime. That's my excuse anyway, because only a couple of minutes down the road, I stumbled in one of the many holes in the tarmac at the edge of the road, fell down landing on my knees, and placed my hand straight into the mud of a drainage channel. It was mostly shock I think, and pain caused my knee landing on a stone, but according to Didier I sounded like an alarm going off! I made such a fuss that lots of Indians rushed over to see if I was OK
Take two, and this time we made it to the temple. We passed it on the way from the station the night before and it had looked amazing - a rich red ochre-stained building, lit up and reflected in a large step well. In daylight the colour didn't look nearly as vivid and the water was slimy, green and rubbish-strewn, but we went in to have a look anyway. At all temples you have to take shoes off outside, but in 38 degree heat, the stone floor heats up so much that I had to run over the exposed bits in search of some shade. Inside the temple there was a lot of loud clanging bell ringing going on - any of the worshippers seemed to be able to have a go, resulting in a discordant racket, to be quite honest. We didn't hang around long. The next temple down the road was a modern white marble one. For 2p we gained entry to a whole series of kitsch animatronic models depicting scenes from Shiva's life. Now that's what I call temple entertainment!
Next we took cycle rickshaws into the old city and found our way through its maze of confusing narrow alleyways to the ghats. The ghats are dozens of series of steps that lead down to the Ganges. They line one side of the river for 7km through the city
We walked along the central section of the ghats (side-tripping to visit a Nepalese Temple with erotic carvings, where they've cottoned on to the potential income and charge just to let you walk around the outside of it!) towards the main burning ghat. Photography is not allowed but tourists can watch the activities from the second floor of an overlooking building. All around the ghat and on boats moored next to it, are huge piles of wood from Banyan Trees. The wood is carefully weighed so there is just the right amount to completely burn the body. It is expensive to buy (about £500 a cremation we worked out) so many people use their life savings to buy wood to burn their body with. It seems strange when you look at it like that. However, generally the whole thing was less shocking and more dignified than I expected it to be
A guide who had attached himself to us took us to a silk shop where we were shown shawls aplenty. The owner kept spreading out more and more colours and patterns until there was a huge pile on the floor. It is well known that a lot of so called silk is actually mixed with cotton and when Matt asked about this, the salesman insisted on burning the edge of one of the scarfs and getting him to smell the smoke. This was meant to prove that it was pure silk but of course Matt had no idea what burning silk should smell like. He said that the burning material actually smelt of chemicals
At sunset we went to the main ghat to see the aarti ceremony (where arrangements of flowers and candles are floated down the river) and generally soak up the atmosphere as the light faded. Boatmen tried to book us on their boats the next morning, young girls sold flowers, children played and splashed in the river, loud speakers blared chanting and cows and goats lay about on the steps. There were strings of lights everywhere and huge illuminated murals of Shiva and other gods. Off to one side a stage was set up and the steps acted as an amphitheatre where people gathered to listen to preaching, singing and amplified music. It was a vibrant scene, full of life in the gathering darkness.
At a restaurant that night we listened to a classical music concert as we ate. Two men, one on tabla and one on sitar, played pieces of music that lasted for half an hour at a time, starting slowly and building to amazing crescendos of sound.
At 5am the next morning we set off back to the main ghat for a sunrise boat trip - the definitive Varanasi tourist experience
After lunch Celia, Didier, Flic and Alex left Varanasi and Matt and I visited the nearby town of Sarnath. This has many important Buddhist sites, archaeological remains, and a museum containing an impressive amount of stone sculptures from 1st-12th century AD. There is even a massive capital from a pillar that dates to 200BC. It depicts 4 lions standing back to back and I found it impossible to beleive that it was that old. Matt and I wilted a bit in Sarnath - the heat seems to just build and build throughout the day, not even cooling down when it gets dark. We also visited a Jain temple where a very informative man at the temple door explained about Jainism - it's a religion that can seem quite extreme and obsessed with self-denial. They will not kill any living thing to the extent that the monks wear material over their mouths to avoid killing aibourne microorganisms, will drink through material to filter out any microrganisms in water, do not eat live yoghurt and will not pick fruit from a tree. They also have a rule about not cutting their hair. Instead they pull it out. We were proudly shown a photo of the man's uncle standing naked, holding what appeared to be a large shaggy wig. I didn't want to stare at the photo too much but it was the highlight of my time in Sarnath
The following day Matt and I took an early morning walk along the ghats near our hotel. We had heard at the burning ghat that some bodies are not cremated - instead they are put into the river. These include pregnant women, children, lepers and victims of snake bites (all these people are believed to have died a holy death and therefore there is no need to cremate them). So, we were not too shocked to see a body, wrapped in material, floating down the river. It was strange to see people still bathing and washing happily, 10m away from the body, but it must be a common sight. Just as we were about the leave the ghats a dog came up the steps infront of us carrying something in its mouth. It didn't take long for me to see that it was a tiny, bloated, dead baby. Nothing can quite prepare you for the sight of something like this. The Indians walking past also looked shocked. The dog took its meal further up the steps, thankfully out of sight and we left the river, sickened, via another route. I had wanted to experience everything that Varanasi presented to me, but now felt naive for having this sentiment. I tried to deal with it by thinking about the fact that the baby's soul had left its body. When so many people and animals are competing in such a small space for survival it is inevitable that things like this happen.
Back at the hotel, poor Matt finally succumbed to Delhi Belly, just hours before an 8 hour train journey. That means that of the 9 of who met up in India, only one person (old iron-guts Celia!) did not get ill. I said goodbye to Matt at lunchtime (he was heading off to visit the largest school in the world, at Lucknow) and spent the last day and night in Varanasi on my own. Despite having been in India well over a month I still felt apprehensive about going to any tourist sights alone. The constant attention, stares and repeated enquiries of 'how are youuuu, ma'am?' can feel intimidating. Instead I chickened out and spent my time in an internet cafe, a fixed price shop for last-minute present buying and the hotel restaurant.
At lunchtime the next day I set off to the railway station, starting the long journey home.