Mike – Our first taste of Varanasi was, from what I gather, pretty typical of first-timers. Our rickshaw driver convinced us that he’d find us a better view, price, and location than the Lonely Planet hotel we’d booked. He promised that his choice was within walking distance of the one we’d booked, and thus, would be very accessible if we decided to pass on the first one. We decided to check it out.
He drove into a narrow cobblestone alleyway, parked the rickshaw, and told us to follow him through the labyrinth of back-streets that line the ghats. We had absolutely no idea where we were, no sense of direction, and were forced to walk like sheep, blindly trusting the paan-stained driver, and hoping that our passivity wouldn’t come back to haunt us.
We ended up at a decent enough hotel, with a great balcony and view of the ghats, for 2/3 of the price. There was a colony of ants sharing our room, and a poorly draining washroom, but albeit those things, it was a great bargain. We took a chance, and it paid-off. In the picture below, our room was the balcony jutting out from between the two white columns.
The initial shock of Varanasi was quite overwhelming. The network of alleyways bordering the ghats was, initially, quite disorienting. It was an accomplishment just to get from Point A to Point B. We focused on memorising the way to – what soon came to be – the “bare essentials”, and there was no need to venture any further.
When I say “bare essentials”, what I mean is the famous Brown Bread Bakery, and the Internet Cafe. The latter, being notable only for their willingness to let us plug in my laptop. The bakery was more of a restaurant, but what made it unique (and why we decided to go there for every meal except one) was the fact that it stocked over thirty different types of Indian organic cheeses. Alongside the fact that it baked all it’s own bread fresh each morning, it supplied large portion sizes, and ran multiple local charities for which part of the price went into supporting. Our breakfast each morning consisted of:
-Cheese Platter
-Baked Bread Platter with Butter and Jam
-Roasted Potatoes
-Fried Eggs
-Sausage
-Fruit Curd Muesli
-Orange Juice
-Tea or Coffee
Man, what a great way to start the day. And, don’t even get me started on the dinners. Historically, not being a huge cheese person myself, I will definitely leave Varanasi with the inclination to start eating more of it.
The Lonely Planet warns travellers of the touts, scammers, and thieves in Varanasi. We came here really expecting to be on guard for most of the time, but we never really felt that. Yes, there were a lot of people soliciting our business, but for the most part, they remained very polite and maintained a respectful distance. Relaxed walks by twilight, sunrises on the balcony overlooking the Ganges, dusk boat rides, great cheese, plentiful bread, great grub; at times it felt like what it must feel to be in Venice. Pretty surprising, actually.
The real shocker was the “Burning Ghats”. I had read all about it, but nothing really prepares you for the blistering, and splitting of the skin as it peels off the head of the corpse, revealing the steaming orange skull, which remains as the last thing to completely melt. It’s even more shocking to witness how much of a routine the whole thing is. It’s part of life. Some people will work there, preparing the pyres and stoking the flames, for the rest of their lives as part of their caste’s prescribed duty. At times, there’s almost a jovial vibe to the entire thing. I guess, for them, their loved ones are attaining instant moksha. For as the belief goes, a cremation in Varanasi guarantees the souls freedom from the ongoing cycle of reincarnation. Hence, it’s something to celebrate; something to be proud of. “Burning Is Learning”; as the tout’s would quote, which we heard all too many times.
You’re not actually supposed to take pictures, but as per usual, Teg manages to sneak in a shot or two…
I definitely learned a lot; not quite sure what good it will do for me. Most of it I could’ve lived without, but overall, it was very interesting, and eye-opening how a person’s death becomes such a spectacle, a tourist attraction, an opportunity to earn an extra buck or two. I guess the dead don’t care, and if the relatives don’t either, so what’s the harm? The entire experience was as revolting as it was beautiful.
Teg- The burning ghats were nothing like I had expected them to be. I had this image in my mind that this place would 
Maybe the ceremony takes place before the deceased gets to the ghats, but once there it just became one more body in a queue of bodies, waiting for its turn. The ghat is non-stop busy, 24 hours of the day; time is not wasted.
There was (for the most part) the same group of men bringing in body after body into the burning area, piling 200kg of wood in the shape of a bed for the body to rest on. At one point we counted 15 bodies burning, all at different stages of course and on different levels of the ghats. The bodies closest to the river were of the lowest caste, and thus the ones higher up were the highest caste. Each body would get submerged into the river before going up to its pile of wood. We never saw the ashes returned to the river (but they’re supposed to at some point, as that’s the entire idea…). Another pile of wood would soon be set down amidst the ashes of the previous fire.
The amount of wood used for one person was extreme, but no less could be used (apparently), or else the smell of burnt corpse would become too overwhelming.
Like the burning ghats, it was extremely rare to see a woman bathing in the ganga or sitting on the ghats anywhere along the riverside. It was strange. There were at times a lot of men all bathing with each other, but never were there any women around.
We spent most of our days on the ghats, walking along them as far as we could go, then taking a boat back to the main ghat. It was never hard to find a boat; we were literally always being asked if we wanted to get into one. I must admit though, the boat rides were awesome! Instead of being a part of the chaos we’d get to relax and be spectators!
When not on or near the river, we spent the days weaving through the narrow ‘streets’ (no more than 2m wide) that exist in between buildings. It was a maze and it definitely tested our sense of direction!
I stepped in my first pile of sh*t here. My sandal clipped the side of a huge pile of cow dung, I was actually quite lucky. Lol!
One of the best memories I’ll have of Varanasi is the children’s kites that speckle the sky at any time of the day!
Oh wait! Another great memory here was the Cheese hahaha! This was a great surprise that I (and soon Mike) took full advantage of. I’ve been cheese deprived for a while now, and it’s been an absence that hurts me more than that of meat! Brown Bread was delicious and truly hit the spot! Since when have I had cheese platters for breakfast hahaha!?! Brown Bread bakery is a hole in the wall, tucked away off one of the tiny pathways close to the ghats; it was well worth the risk of getting lost to get to!
No comments:
Post a Comment