Raquel in India

Sunrise on the Ganges

in varanasi, we stayed at a hotel in the nicer part of town because they were supposed to have massage, henna, and internet there. it was comfortable, but the people there didn't want to give us an extra towel and participated in a scam, which was super lame of them. that's to come.

that morning we went down to the river ganges and had breakfast with the other white people, then went to try to find one of the hindu temples mentioned in the book. we found it and went in, and i received a blessing with a branch, holy water, and vermillion stained water, and was given a thread around my wrist for protection. i think it confused people to see me walking around with that, because a lot more people spoke to me in hindi after that.

then we decided to head back toward the river to walk along the ghats (which, as i understand it, are basically docks where people walk down to the river and perform various religious ceremonies, wash clothes, and cremate bodies). on the way some man struck up a conversation with us and offered to show us to the once-a-week market we are so lucky to be here on the one day the market is open the biggest market we ever see just right this way down this narrow alley away from the busy street. stephanie and i thanked him and left, although he tried two more times to speak to us again. icky.

we went down to the river and walked. and walked. stepping carefully so as to avoid the obvious sewage and its products. the ganges is heavily heavily polluted with raw sewage, soap, and decomposing bodies, but it is considered holy water and pilgrims from all over india come here to bathe and drink. stephanie and i used a lot of purell that day and took very long showers. stephanie also threw out the shoes she wore.

we walked from assi ghat to the main ghat, passing on the way one of the secondary burning ghats, where bodies are cremated before the ashes are collected and, if the ashes are from the chest or pelvic area, strewn into the river by a family member. bodies are burned 24 hours a day.

from the main ghat we walked through the big bazaar to a place for lunch, which was ok. we asked there for a recommendation for threading (the indian equivalent of tweezing) and were directed to a place across the street. we asked if they did henna also and massage. at first they said no hand henna, only hair henna, and no body massage, only head massage. after our faces were threaded, though (it really hurt, and my face is completely broken out now -- i mean, like people you see as the commercial representatives for the "before" pictures in acne product advertisements, really bad) they said, oh, yes we do henna and yes we do do ayuverdic body massage. stephanie was going to get a manicure and pedicure while i had a massage and then we were going to switch. i got upstairs, though, undressed, and received what i am now angry to report was a violation of my body -- this woman definitely does not give professional massage. i should clarify. there was nothing inappropriate about the way that she touched me, only the fact that she is not really a professional massage therapist means that it was totally inappropriate and i feel violated for that reason. some random woman saw me naked and touched me and was going to ask me to pay for it! i was so angry. i realized fairly quickly that she did not know what she was doing and got up and left. and she had the nerve to request 50Rs for the part that she did do. audacious.

from there we walked back toward the bazaar to look for some trinkets and buy a pomegranite. then we went to a silk shop in the market, where we stayed for a couple of hours before heading back down to the ghat for a nightly ceremony that includes traditional religious dress, fire, and flags on the water. still not clear exactly what it is, but it was pretty anyway. then we had dinner and then we were going to head back to the hotel, but there were no autorickshaws anywhere to be found. after walking for some time, we hired a cycle rickshaw, but stephanie was extremely uncomfortable with it (it feels a lot less secure, particularly your first time and at night) and i noticed that he was heading in the wrong direction, so we paid him the fare and got off. we found an autorickshaw driver who would not negotiate and, due to the lateness of the hour, agreed on his price anyway.

the ride back was adventurous, and our driver a bit... off. he laughed a lot. and sang a lot. and laughed. somewhat maniacally. and ran over a cow's leg. and when stephanie pointed it out, he laughed again. it was totally bizarre.

next morning we were up at the crack of dawn for a boat tour of the ganges. this is a must do in varanasi. it's the hour when all the pilgrims perform their rituals, and the hour when the river looks the least disgusting. we had a knowledgable boat guide, which was good, and were able to view varanasi from a different perspective. we went to the main burning ghat and witnessed an old man, head shaved and in traditional mourning white loin cloth, sending the pelvic ashes of his wife's body into the ganges water. we also witnessed a body floating by -- the bodies that are not cremated (those of particularly holy people) are buried in the ganges, wrapped in cloth and weighed down with rocks that are supposed to keep them on the river floor, on occasion, the rocks are swept off, and the bodies resurface. it is not upsetting to anyone, not a cause for either alarm or distress, only a cause for calling the supervisor to come retrieve the body and re-weight it for reburial.

after the boat tour we went to a couple of temples, then stephanie and i managed to make it to mass at st. thomas (the first church we went to was closed, but we found an actual mass at a church near our hotel), followed by eucharistic adoration. it was beautiful.

then back to the hotel to have a speedy breakfast and head out to the silk sari shop nearby recommended by our hotel. we set the tempo from the beginning telling them that we had an appointment at our hotel at 11:30 and had to leave by 11:00am. we found a couple of very beautiful saris, and the prices shot up as soon as we expressed our interest. we really should contain our enthusiasm. that and be more aggressive in making sure that no random rickshaw driver follows us into the shop to secure a hefty commission for "bringing us there." we were suspicious of him (i noticed him following us from the street) but when we arrived someone told us that he worked there. maybe true in the sense that he has an arrangement with the owners to sidetrack unwitting tourists and direct them to that shop. but we were not aggressive enough about making sure that they knew that he was not with us, and i am certain at least 40% additional was tagged on for his commission. anyway, we were so frustrated by the end at their obvious manipulation and inflation that we left without buying anything.

when we got back to the hotel, particularly ready for the ayuverdic massages we had scheduled, we were told by the manager on duty (who was on the phone right then) that our massages had been mysteriously cancelled because the massage woman had family problems. stephanie reminded him that there were supposed to be two women, and did they both have family problems?!? yes, they both had family problems. yeah, right. as if we would actually then turn around and return to the sari shop.

we went up to our room to shower and pack and when coconut oil massage suddenly became available we declined. pretty soon it was time to get to the airport to catch our flight back to delhi. we had really bad airport food (which would make stephanie sick later on) and our pomegranate and boarded. in delhi we went to the international terminal (stopping once for said sickness), repacked my bag (thank you once again, stephanie, for carrying my stuff back!), and spent at least an hour trying to get through to a hotel for me to stay at for the night. no success. finally i decided to just take a taxi to one of them and try my luck. stephanie and i said our goodbyes and parted ways, stephanie through security into the western world of the international terminal and i back out into india.

i stayed at a place on the main bazaar which is total backpacker central. like khao sahn road in bangkok. and tons of israelies. it was pretty crappy, but cheap and a place to sleep until my flight to goa the next day. all i did was check email and sleep.

i planned to rise early and experience more of delhi, but slept right through and was running very late. and just my luck no taxis to the airport. i got into three autorickshaws (first didn't run, second asked too much, third was fine) and told the driver i had a flight at noon. by then it was after 11:00. once we got out of the congestion of the city center, he hailed a taxi for me, paid him, and saw me on my way. the taxi driver hit on me the whole time (blatant - just one kiss, please, just one kiss, you are very beautiful, i like you, please, just one kiss) but did get me to the airport just in time for final boarding call.

arrived in goa yesterday afternoon and took a taxi here to anjuna, a sleepy little town in a totally different part of india. rural, tropical, beaches and palm trees and bamboo forests. it's good. i'm in a small village called anjuna, where i will stay for another couple of days. dirt roads only, no street names, lots of small houses and a community of mostly roman catholics. nothing to do here, and by that i mean, nothing is what you do here. eat, sit, read, write, think and look out at the ocean. it's great. i'll head out to southern goa on thursday after the big flea market on wednesday. i'll try to write again in a few days.

posted by Dr.Quel @ 8:43 PM