My twelve hour train trip to Varanasi turned into a fifteen hour journey due to morning fog. Trains running east and west run on the same track, so when it is foggy and the driver cannot see whether another train is approaching on the tracks, they cannot run. Also, many intersections don't have signals, so the train regularly stops to allow other trains to pass.
People waiting for the train to move again.
My bunk mates invited me to sit with them, so we passed the time chatting and drinking chai. They enjoyed looking at pictures of the United States, my family and my apartment on my iPad. They were surprised to hear I live alone. One of the girls is on the state football team. She is studying to get her MBA and hopes to work in the US. Her brother is studying computer engineering and also wants to work in the US when he graduates. His uncle came to chat with us as well. He suggested I marry his nephew--I'm pretty sure he was kidding. He also told me I look Indian and blend in well. I know he was kidding about that one.
Most of the train ride was through small villages. In most of the towns, people ride bicycles down dirt roads for transportation and there are no cars. It is difficult to know what town you are in or how much further until your stop. I am completely relying on my bunk mates to tell me when we arrive in Varanasi. They warned me to be aware of the "thugs" in Varanasi who may try to steal my purse and to be ready to see all different types of people and cultures.
Varanasi train station.
I arrived at the train station around 11:30 a.m. Thankfully I was able to sleep 7 hrs on the train, so I felt pretty rested. It was a madhouse inside the train station, so I was relieved I found the driver from the hotel quickly. A guide, Yam Mohul (which means "always smiling"), was also with the driver. A guide is pretty much a necessity here and Yam is a local who speaks pretty good English, so I hired him for my three days in Varanasi.
It is difficult to capture the uniqueness of Varanasi in writing.
The Ganges, referred to here as the Ganga.
Another view of the Ganges.
My hotel is down an alley off to the left.
The street scene.
A sacred cow scavenging and roaming around. They hang out in the city and then return to the fields at their leisure. It is good luck to step in cow dung. Personally, I'd rather ring a bell at a temple in Thailand to get good luck.
Wild monkeys are running around.
Old buildings are the standard.
Navigating through alleys is the primary means of getting around, at least this time of year when the water level is high. Many sick and elderly lay in the alley, essentially waiting to die so they can be cremated at the burning ghats. Cows and dogs lay near them and monkeys appear occasionally.
The city, one of the oldest in India, is 3,000 years old (some say 8,000) and is referred to as "the city of burning and learning." The learning portion comes in part from the Buddha's visit here in 500 B.C after he achieved enlightenment. He shared his wisdom in Sarnath, a nearby town I'm visiting tomorrow. As for the burning part, Varanasi has two burning ghats--open-air cremation sites. Hindus believe that by being cremated here, you can break the cycle of rebirth and reach nirvana.
This afternoon I visited the main ghat, the Manikarnika Ghat. Bodies are cremated here 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. It is said that the fire used to set the corpses ablaze was started by Shiva 3,000 years ago and her power keeps the flame alive. Cameras are not allowed and out of respect, one would feel awkward taking pictures of this ritual. I stood along the river and watched with my guide as 8 bodies were being cremated on 8 different fires and others were queued up. When one cremation ends, another body is placed on the fire.
The scene is unreal. There is smoke from the fires throughout the air and the fires make the air hot and release ashes into the air. Cows and water buffalo are milling about in the river as the male family members cleanse the body before cremation. Dogs lay near the chaos, and people selling wood surround the steps to the river. It takes at least 300 kg of wood to cremate one body and the wood sells for 100 rupees a kg, making the cost of cremating one body around $1,000. The process lasts about 3 to 3 1/2 hours for each body. Most of the bodies had a thin sheet covering them but one did not, or at least it was no longer there. His face was clearly visible during the beginning/middle of the cremation. If a body part fell off the wood pile, it was picked up and put back in the fire. All the bones do not turn to ash. A portion of the chest bones remains for men and a portion of the hip bone for women. These pieces are collected at the end and placed in the Ganges where people bath in the morning.
One thing I found shocking was that no one was crying. Yam says crying is not allowed and women do not participate in the ritual. People seemed more focused on making sure they complete all the steps in the ritual correctly than grieving the loss of their loved one. The ritual requires a clay pot of water to be thrown over their shoulder. After the pot is thrown, the man is not to look back to where the pot was thrown. If he looks back, the person being cremated is held in limbo before they reach nirvana. One man didn't understand that he needed to throw the pot itself and not just the water in the pot. It was a close call, but I don't think he looked all the way back to where he eventually threw the pot.
For those who do not die near Varanasi (and therefore cannot be cremated here) their ashes can be spread in the Ganges and they will still reach nirvana.
After visiting the ghat, we stopped in for some aromatherapy. We stepped into this man's home, past the four cows inside his home, and entered this small room.
Inside his home.
He makes extracts using a variety of flowers and plants grown throughout India.
He made me some chai tea in a disposable clay cup. I asked if by chance he had a paper cup. As he reassured me that the clay cup was clean, he wiped the inside with a towel he picked up off the floor and knocked the loose clay off the inside of the cup by tapping the cup upside down on the floor. Yum yum.
We later walked through the local market.
Indian sweets. I would like to try them, but I haven't worked up the courage to eat anywhere besides my hotel. I have only been here half a day and have already heard of one American being hospitalized for food poisoning and saw another westerner who looked like she was going to need a hospital soon.
I finished off the day by attending the nightly Ganga Fire Aarti, where young Brahmin priests perform religious offerings to the Ganges.
Indian music was playing. They also had a drummer playing a unique looking drum and people rhythmically ringing a bell, all while the priests danced with these flaming lanterns. The audience clapped along. They also release floating candles down the river.
People also gathered in boats to watch the ritual which occurred along the river bank.
Exhausted and off to bed....
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Varanasi, India
I'd stick with the bells too! I'm sure you'll be enjoying the street food before you know it :-)
ReplyDelete