06/24/14 - 6/28/14: Varansi, Uttar Pradesh, India
It was 2am and people were strewn about the train platform sleeping in various positions. Delays had fouled up everyone’s itinerary and people were catnapping where they could. Our group hunkered down on a platform overpass, some lying against their luggage, others nodding off on one another. Aura paced and waited and made sure strangers left us alone. As usual, even at 2am, a series of Indian men had slowly gathered at the top of the stairs to observe us.
We were all half asleep in our seated or standing positions when our train arrived and Aura quickly ushered us inside. He had warned us that our beds on the train would not be together; we held clusters of seats stretching across separate cars. To keep things organized, he had us enter one car together.
It was after 3am now and our train had arrived with pre-existing passengers who were fast asleep. Aura woke people snoozing in our assigned bunks while we stood wedged in the aisle. He cajoled a train attendant to help him convince a reluctant man to get out of one of our beds. We soon found out another car on the train had malfunctioning A/C and passengers had complained to the ticket taker who told them they could come into this car. Sadly, some of our assigned seats were in that broken A/C train car.
Aura suggested we suck it up and share bunks so we could all have air-conditioning. He said as the train stopped along the way people would disembark and seats would open up. We all agreed, though there was some drama over who would share a bunk and where the luggage would go. In the end Katie and I split a bottom bunk along the aisle. It was after 4am.
We laid down, head to toe, squashed together like…well, like two people on a bunk made for one. The sun was starting to rise, sending faint light in through the windows. Neither of us could sleep soundly in those positions so Katie, being the angel that she is, had me lay down and sleep while she sat up and read. We planned on swapping in 3 hours, but by then Aura pointed Katie to a newly vacated bunk all for herself.
I slept until noon. The surrounding cacophony of the train stopping and starting, passengers shuffling and moving luggage - none of it ever shook me from slumber. Considering we’d woken up at 4am the previous day, it wasn’t surprising. Katie was away from our group on a middle bunk at the end of the car. That meant that if anyone in her area wanted to sit up she’d have to move so her bunk could drop and create proper seating. But she’d waited too long for that bunk! She wasn’t about to budge!
When the other passengers awoke they attempted to wake her. Katie refused to show any signs of life. She laid there still as death, willfully ignoring the talking and nudging until the other passengers gave up. Later, Aura was able to move her to another bunk that didn’t infringe on patrons wanting to sit up in the middle of the day (a reasonable desire).
We arrived in Varanasi after sunset and went to bed heavy and spent. We were happy to finally be in this ancient and holy city; a pilgrimage site for millions of Hindus every year. Varanasi is one of the world's oldest continually inhabited cities and its ancient roots sit upon the River Ganges, a body of water that blesses Hindus in both life and death. Very soon we’d be on that river participating in a spectacular worshipful gathering.
On our first official day in Varanasi we left it! We drove to Sarnath to visit the site of Buddha’s first sermon where he spoke to his 5 disciples. Aura regaled us with the tale of Buddha on the way and, in an effort to save time, I’m going to quickly summarize and likely butcher the story of Buddha and his philosophy: Buddha was once rich and sheltered from the world. He snuck out and witnessed various forms of human suffering and came to the conclusion that man must accept suffering as part of the human condition but not give into the pains of life. The path to finding peace within is to contain one’s desires and cravings, which can only provide temporary bliss. Meditation and self-reflection provide a path to enlightenment.
We walked to the ancient stupa where Buddha spoke. He didn’t actually “sermonize” his ideas so much as share his newfound philosophy on life. He never tried to convert anyone, he only ruminated on his experiences. The stupa was built around 300 BC and was extremely simple: a weathered red brick structure rising into a giant bell shape. We next visited a gigantic Buddha statue with delicate carving standing three stories tall, and entered ornate temples with golden Buddha figures. The juxtaposition between the modest stone mound and the finely carved figures felt disconnected from one another. It seemed incongruous to have Buddha espouse the need to detach from human desires on one hand and have golden statues representing him on the other. This can also be said of other religions….but I digress….
After our excursion we returned to the city and prepared for a sunset boat ride on the Ganges River. We walked through deteriorating alleyways to reach its holy waters. I can’t remember much detail because I was staring at the ground the entire time to avoid animal poop: lots of cow, goat and dog feces littered the streets. At one point I saw a woman selling fresh produce on a blanket a foot away from a cow patty. This disturbing lack of sanitation actually goes hand-in-hand with the river itself; It is known to be self-purifying, so what need is there to protect the water from pollutants? For the faithful, it’s impossible for the Ganges to become contaminated.
When the buildings gave way we were granted a golden view of the river Ganges near sunset. The shoreline pushed out into a massive curve, like a large crescent moon slicing the landscape. The city along the river was timeworn; old stone houses, crumbling walls, and weathered temples threatening to topple. Boats rowed downstream while kids played cricket along a thin strip of shore. We boarded our small boat and pushed out, feeling as though we were floating hundreds of years into the past. Our sputtering motor quickly broke that illusion.
Aura spoke at length about the ancient myth behind the Ganges. It’s named after a human girl who was so full of life, so loved by all, that the Gods brought her into their realm where she became the Goddess Ganga. When the men of Varanasi couldn’t wash away the cremated remains of their loved ones (which is essential in Hinduism), Ganga was sent down to earth as a river. Her lifeforce was so powerful that the god Shiva had to control her intensity through the coiling of his hair. This is why you’ll always see a ring of hair pulled up on Shiva’s head. It is said that if he ever let his hair down the Ganges would flood the entire world.
This sacred river is known for its healing powers and its ability to wash away sins. We saw cattle writhing in the water while families swam nearby. Others chose to bathe along the shore, sudsing up like they were in a bathtub. Aura said there are people that have never taken a proper shower in their entire lives, they simply swim in the Ganges.
At dusk, Aura had us participate in our own mini Ganga Aarti ceremony. An aarti is a ritual where you make an offering of fire to the River Ganges. We were given small cups holding flowers and votive candles. We held them in our palms while making a wish. We then lit the candles and laid them gently upon the rippling waters of the Ganges, watching them float away to hopefully come true.
As our small gifts trailed behind us, we continued down the Ganges and saw people dipping, laughing and praying at the water’s edge. I felt this was a special place, if by the mere fact that it brings people peace and joy. Faith in the Ganges defies logic and science, yet people flock to it like a beacon. And that night, when the sun had set, we saw that beacon shine in a massive Hindu ritual along its shore.
Hundreds of boats pressed together, bumping and bobbing, facing an array of steps leading down to the river. We were among those in the water blending in with throngs of believers attending the nightly Aarti ceremony. Musicians played and Hindu priests stepped onto platforms carrying containers of incense, ringing bells, and raising burning candelabras. According to Aura, the candelabra is moved slowly in a circle to find the outline of the Gods. We didn’t understand the meaning behind these rituals but we were entranced by them all the same. To be one of thousands gathered in communal worship was one of the highlights of our trip; a glowing celebration of Hinduism in the descending darkness of the day.
Our 4:30am wake up call forced us to drag ourselves out of bed the next morning for a sunrise boat ride on the Ganges. We arrived before sun up and waited on the stone steps leading down to the river’s edge. I appreciated the rare stillness in the quiet hours of the morning. Aura asked if anyone wanted a Chai tea and I gave an enthusiastic yes. It dawned on me that this tea would be made from the River Ganges, and it gave me a moment of pause, but then I figured, “Hey, it’s boiled! It’ll be purified!” and just went for it. Risky? Absolutely. But when in Rome! Or in this case, India!
This time our boat was without a motor and it was the calmest India I’d experienced since arriving (aside from sleeping in the desert). We watched Varanasi wake up, open its eyes, and pray alongside the Ganges River. Refreshing dips in the water. Monkeys climbing stone walls. Hot Masala Chai tea spicing up the air. All while people slapped laundry on river stones as temple towers slowly sunk into the river’s silt.
In the distance we could see people carrying wrapped bodies toward funeral pyres smoldering with smoke. At the Ganges, no matter the time of day, there will always be a body burning. Knowing human remains are so near, their smoke in the air, their ash in the water, is an odd feeling. But again, this place feels strangely holy despite its decrepitude. Our walk back to our tuk-tuks reinforced this notion. As a Hindu, having your remains placed in the Ganges is the ideal and we saw many homeless and suffering souls lying on the streets, quite possibly near death, hoping for a last cleansing in the sacred river.
That afternoon Aura arranged an elective tour of silk shops. Off we went, interested in hearing about the creation of bold Indian fabrics, but that’s not exactly what we got. Our tour guide brought us into workshop after workshop where giant mechanical looms pumped out fabrics and subsequently drowned out nearly everything he was telling us. He was already soft spoken, and with the noise I could only make out about 10% of what he was saying. As usual, it was blazing hot outside as he led us through narrow alleyways to our next destination. Street kids followed us with glee. They were very cute and playful, bursting with curiosity over these foreign strangers. They loved posing for pictures and seeing themselves in the images.
We were eventually led into an air-conditioned shop where folded fabrics lined the walls from top to bottom. A seemingly endless stream of products were paraded in front of us in a long sales pitch. Unfortunately for them, we were all too hot, exhausted, and poor to be worth the time. One of our group expressed a desire for their cheapest scarves. He reluctantly complied and finally won some sales. Poor man. Not much of a commission day for him!
While waiting to depart Varansi I got an answer to a pressing question: Yes, in fact, it can get hotter in India! Our clothes were soaked with sweat as we stood in a circle around our luggage on the train platform. People were everywhere, including in a circle around our circle. A line of men wrapped around us as though we were buskers playing for coins. I think it may have had something to do with the unusual sight of women wearing shorts and tank tops. Either that or they enjoy watching white people melt before their eyes like vanilla ice cream.
A woman fainted nearby and was swarmed by family who fanned her as she lay on the platform. Aura gave them a bottle of water and electrolytes before trying to convince them to go get help. They were reluctant to do so. I learned from Aura later that he thought she was acting a bit. They’d all been denied a seat on the train due to overbooking and this was possibly a play to get on board. Either way, Aura was such a hero - getting her hydrated and trying to get her help. Finally, they took her away to get medical attention. I can’t remember if that was before or after the chaos…
A train suddenly lurched forward and there was a mad rush to jump on board by a crowd of young men. They leapt onto the train, gripping the side rails and hanging out of doors. They were smiling and laughing and didn’t seem afraid despite the train moving and exiting the station. I’d be terrified! Aura told me they were students and there is a mandate that students taking exams get priority seating on the trains, which is why it was overbooked. I hope they all made it inside, otherwise they were going to experience a long and exhausting grip…oh, I mean trip.
Luckily, our boarding was far calmer. It was a sleeper train again, but this time without the drama of the last. When we reached Delhi the next day our three weeks in India had come to a close. We’d traveled full circle and were plopped right back at Hotel Perfect. Our room was much better this time!
That evening was our last as a group. We ate dinner together (which took 3 hours of course - going out to eat as a group takes an eternity). Anne presented Aura with the group tip for a job well done. Tipping is tradition in India, just like America, and it’s recommended by G-Adventures. Aura was visibly touched when he received it. He clutched the envelope to his chest and said “Thank you” with an amount of heartfelt relief I’ve seldom heard. I honestly think it’s rare that he gets a tip at the end of these trips, which is a shame.
After dinner we all went to the hotel Perfect rooftop for some drinks and fun. This was the first time we’d joined the party after hours and I could tell Aura was thrilled. A game of Heads Up started and laughter grew throughout the night. We had planned to stay until midnight because of our 8am taxi but we ended up staying until 3am!
When we finally said goodbye to Aura (who had earnestly been trying to convince the four of us to stay in India longer so we could travel together) he gave us enthusiastic hugs. We noticed that Anne got the biggest and longest hug of all….Hmmmm…. No wonder he wanted us to stay longer…
Our departure from India was bittersweet. It was the hardest country we traveled through and possibly the most impactful. I both embraced and recoiled against it, all the while acknowledging my own privilege in the face of its daily struggles; as I sat on my assigned seat aboard a bus or a train while others pressed tightly into the gaps around me. Thank you Mother India for teaching me humility, charity, and for sharing your extremes with me. Thank you for your dusty roads and your record-high temperatures; for your cramped spaces and frenetic streets; for your pungent smells and flavors that linger on the tongue. Thank you for showing me more of myself through you. You were a good teacher.
