Between life and death, shit and flower petals, exalted devotion and total indifference , Varanasi is opening its eyes on the Ganga. The city is fascinating but the contrasts make it difficult to be understood and accepted. The morning sunrise that bath the ghats in a pink light has something godly in it. You cannot stop watching and the morning boat ride becomes a daily repeated experience that you don’t want to miss.
The sun is blessing you and all around and the city that is the oldest and the most holly city in India, a city with no match, a city older than history. People come here to die but not like in Florida!!! They come here because if they die in a specific perimeter, that covers the entire city, they are blessed and cleansed for a new life. So one of the major business in the city are the two burning ghats, Manikarnike and Harishchandra, that work 24 hours a day, the pyres could be seen from far away with the associated smell of the santal wood. The puja is performed daily and the night aarthi ceremony is beautiful, with flowers and lit candles left to float on the Ganga, an offer to the river that gives life to everybody. Everything is magic….if you see it on my video!!!
But when you walk the small alleys you are assaulted by any kind of imaginable smell, by the dung and shit that paves every street, by the men who are peeing in the street, by the toilets oriented to the street for easier use, by the cows who are all over and you have to be careful not be blessed if their purgation time is near, by the flies who are all over aggregating to the street delicacies that I mention before, by the motor bikes that abound, by an incessant and extremely load noise, by the hordes of people that never stop to come and go, by the mad traffic, by the dead animals that are in garbage, by the piles of garbage that is everywhere and mounts at corners, by the occasional corpses that you are be able to accidentally find (!!!), by the touts who are continuously trying to sell you anything that forces you to act like they do not exists or maybe give them just a slight sign of the hand, by the constant question, the number one in Varansi: “Hallo, boat?” that can change to opium, hash, ganja, coke, massage, water, juice, hair cut, silk, see my shop, money, rupees, boat, boat, boat, boat, boat, boat, boat, boat etc.
The begging is prevalent in India. The beggars are a continuous flow that comes to you. Old men and women barely standing, small and older kids or even adult men and women, women with kids all beg for money. The small kids make some gestures that they would like to show their private parts for you to take a picture and pay them. I brushed them away not wanting to know more, too affected by their poverty. If they see you with the camera they ask for photos in order to be paid no matter that in India many are asking for photos just to have their picture taken and knowing that they cannot get it back. But the begging never stops and you, the traveler, are the main target because it is some hope that you will give something. Most are emaciated, hungry, barely walking, crippled and really in need of help, some were mutilated since they were kids and introduced to this begging business that makes lots of cash for their owners. Modern old slavery.
The bottom line is that at he end the day you are wasted and enjoy just to sit and watch the Ganga that flows slowly and lazy, like the Indian life. I walked again at 5:30 am after a good sleep being bothered only by an army of dogs who were loudly barking and I went on the ghats to be bathed by the morning sun, that I can see from my terrace. I shot for about 2 hours till the sun came up and the light was too bright, lots of prayers at the river and people bathing. The Indians are coming at 6:00 am and bath in the river, ritual followed by regular bath with soap. At one point I got a boat for Rs 50 and cross on the other side of the river where many people were bathing and the view over the city and the ghats in the pink light of the morning was amazing. People were praying and bathing, children were frolicking and just 20 meters in the river a large dead furry animal, I think, was happily floating working in a last moment its karma cleansing for a better rebirth. And of course beside the dead animals, all the ashes and unburnt body parts or even entire corpses are thrown into the river. But Ganga is holy and it has the power to cleanse everything , so people bath, wash their teeth, wash their hair every morning in the river, close to the burning ghats. I crossed back to the city side and went for my banana crepe breakfast and masala tea and I bumped in Traude who was having her breakfast.
We continued where we left it yesterday and went latter to post some post cards with stamps from the post office. Today my plans were to cover all the ghats, in spite of the still 42C, so I left towards the south and saw all the ghats, and started to lose myself in the new side of the city where I saw some great temples. Durga Temple is a really beautiful old temple but unfortunately no pictures were allowed inside the temple. On the way I stopped in a hotel to ask direction and the manager asked to stay for a while and cool off. In general you enter a place and you see several men who are sitting. They told me that in the summer they do not do anything during the day because of the heat. But in the same time you cannot ignore the fact that they could swipe and clean the inside place to look better but nobody apparently cares. I saw a great sign that said: “Restaurant Apsara, we are less dirty”. I got a cyclo with a driver who did not know even how to count in English and after having lots of conferences I was able to get to the temples I wanted to see and to the hotel for the quick shower.
From the hotel I left towards the North ghats where I had to pick up some stuff from the some guys with whom I did some shopping the previous day. We had an entire discussion about the burning ghats, with the amount of wood that is needed to burn a person, recommended 360kg at Rs 25/kg, and so for. Coming back I got more pictures and watched kids playing cricket on the ghats. Sometimes a foreigner is invited to try to bat and the result, or the total lack of it, command roars of laughter. At one point I gave in and got a boat, a constant offer, and I crossed again on the other side in front of the burning ghats and shot the entire city in the hours just before dark with another great light on it and the fires of the ghats going in full swing, 12 at a time. Here I had an unexpected surprise. Shooting some kids who were flying kites, the number 1 pass time in traditional India, I came closer that something that looked weird. I did not have my glasses so I came closer to figure out what it was just to find myself in front of a corpse, headless, mutilated and probaly partially burnt. Again this is India. At least in New Jersey they use cement and they do a very “clean job” before the “ablution” in Hudson.
I crossed back and I stopped at the aarthi from a different vantage point, other altercation with touts that are like bothering flies and you cannot get rid of them and I got after another shower, a good dinner of Navratan Korma. I was able not to get sick in this trip. I respected the famous Indian dictum: “If you cannot peel it, boil it or fry it forget about it” so I was always careful with food and I did not drink even a drop of alcohol. I found it funny that in Orcha and Khajuraho and here is Varanasi, beside the whole assortments of drugs that were constantly offered by the dealers, they have on their menu … beer. There are some wine and beer stores as I understood but they were not easy to find. I still am looking for some CDs but these guys are tougher than the ones in Rishikesh and I kind of bought all that I needed but this did not stop me to stay and listened for 30 minutes a selection of great Indian music. My last night in Varanasi.
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