In keeping with the 'Reece Irving' tribute tour theme for this last week, my final destination was Varanasi, India's holiest city on the mother Ganga. It was a combination of luck and good planning to finish my sojourn here in the city where life and death sit side by side.
After a overnight train ride, a cyclo through crowded streets, and a long stint dragging my bag behind me along the ghats (riverside steps) in the midday sun, I was less than impressed with my 'Maharaja' room at the Palace on the Steps. In Indian terms I figured that the room itself accounted for about $10 of the $50 per night I was paying.
But funny how things change, as the spiritual mystique of Varanasi enveloped me. The location was perfect - just a couple of ghats along from the main ghat, Dasaswamedh Ghat. My room had a tiny sitting room with windows in every direction looking down on the steps and across the mighty Ganges. From dawn until after dusk, the sounds of life unfolding floated up. Over the next few days I would begin to recognise the local Chai stand, the fortune teller, our tribe of monkeys, the cows that inhabited the back lane, the resident sadhu and the puppies on the steps below as home.
One thing I've noticed about India is that it attracts many interesting people, and the Palace on the Steps was no exception. Conversation was encouraged by the design of the hotel cafe - rooftop and caged - to keep the monkeys out! With the semblance of the visitors room at the local lockup, it couldn't help but encourage conversation with your fellow inmates!
I hooked up with Sally, an academic on sabbatical from New York for a tour of the Old Town. Young Lalit, a guide in the making, showed us around the labyrinth of lanes that sat up above the ghats. With the exception of some new incursions - Internet cafes and 'German' bakeries, life continues as it has for hundreds of years. We had the opportunity to visit the Vishwanath Temple, the holiest of Hindu sites in Varanassi. There was a bit of 'crossing palms with silver' (AKA 'donations') to hustle us in a side door. The queues were long and security tight - with an anxiety that they are within shot of the local mosque. I considered this overstated, until realizing that Varanasi has been the site of several terrorist attacks in recent years, so subsequently everyone is a little toey.
THE thing to do in Varanasi is a boat ride on the Ganges, and both sunrise and dusk offer different experiences. Bundling out of bed at 6am, it is a quick few steps down to the riverbank to meet with a boatman and head out. As the sun rises, the ghats are full of pilgrims bathing and performing 'puja' (prayer and offerings) and locals preparing for the day ahead. In the golden rays of the early morning sun, it is a colorful sight, and unlike anything I have seen before. At day's end, it is possible to view the aarti prayer service from the water, with its bells, chanting and candelabras. Small lotus flower candles are launched into the river as an offering, looking magical as they slowly float downstream.
During the day, the ghats host every activity you could imagine. The dhobi-wallahs scrub and beat clothes and sheets into submission. Kids play cricket on the uneven steps. Water buffalo seek out a feed amongst the refuse that washes up. The dead, shrouded in gold and saffron, are carried down on bamboo stretchers for cremation at the burning ghats. The boatmen tout for business, whilst the sadhus (holymen) offer to pose for pictures - 10 rupees please. Life and death exist side by side.
It was one of the hardest places to leave.
Below: Just some of the photos that I took during my 3 1/2 days in Varanasi. Note the world's greatest mango lassi, the view from my window, and Keshav the boatman from Assi Ghat (a great friend of Reece - Kashi Nath).
After a overnight train ride, a cyclo through crowded streets, and a long stint dragging my bag behind me along the ghats (riverside steps) in the midday sun, I was less than impressed with my 'Maharaja' room at the Palace on the Steps. In Indian terms I figured that the room itself accounted for about $10 of the $50 per night I was paying.
But funny how things change, as the spiritual mystique of Varanasi enveloped me. The location was perfect - just a couple of ghats along from the main ghat, Dasaswamedh Ghat. My room had a tiny sitting room with windows in every direction looking down on the steps and across the mighty Ganges. From dawn until after dusk, the sounds of life unfolding floated up. Over the next few days I would begin to recognise the local Chai stand, the fortune teller, our tribe of monkeys, the cows that inhabited the back lane, the resident sadhu and the puppies on the steps below as home.
One thing I've noticed about India is that it attracts many interesting people, and the Palace on the Steps was no exception. Conversation was encouraged by the design of the hotel cafe - rooftop and caged - to keep the monkeys out! With the semblance of the visitors room at the local lockup, it couldn't help but encourage conversation with your fellow inmates!
I hooked up with Sally, an academic on sabbatical from New York for a tour of the Old Town. Young Lalit, a guide in the making, showed us around the labyrinth of lanes that sat up above the ghats. With the exception of some new incursions - Internet cafes and 'German' bakeries, life continues as it has for hundreds of years. We had the opportunity to visit the Vishwanath Temple, the holiest of Hindu sites in Varanassi. There was a bit of 'crossing palms with silver' (AKA 'donations') to hustle us in a side door. The queues were long and security tight - with an anxiety that they are within shot of the local mosque. I considered this overstated, until realizing that Varanasi has been the site of several terrorist attacks in recent years, so subsequently everyone is a little toey.
THE thing to do in Varanasi is a boat ride on the Ganges, and both sunrise and dusk offer different experiences. Bundling out of bed at 6am, it is a quick few steps down to the riverbank to meet with a boatman and head out. As the sun rises, the ghats are full of pilgrims bathing and performing 'puja' (prayer and offerings) and locals preparing for the day ahead. In the golden rays of the early morning sun, it is a colorful sight, and unlike anything I have seen before. At day's end, it is possible to view the aarti prayer service from the water, with its bells, chanting and candelabras. Small lotus flower candles are launched into the river as an offering, looking magical as they slowly float downstream.
During the day, the ghats host every activity you could imagine. The dhobi-wallahs scrub and beat clothes and sheets into submission. Kids play cricket on the uneven steps. Water buffalo seek out a feed amongst the refuse that washes up. The dead, shrouded in gold and saffron, are carried down on bamboo stretchers for cremation at the burning ghats. The boatmen tout for business, whilst the sadhus (holymen) offer to pose for pictures - 10 rupees please. Life and death exist side by side.
It was one of the hardest places to leave.
Below: Just some of the photos that I took during my 3 1/2 days in Varanasi. Note the world's greatest mango lassi, the view from my window, and Keshav the boatman from Assi Ghat (a great friend of Reece - Kashi Nath).
Hi Anne,
ReplyDeleteBali is just as beautiful - the food is still magnificant and i think I ate satay every day. Rob has soaked up the atmosphere and coping well with the market but is not quite as encouraging as "the girls' last time! Home today and reality. Safe travels back home - loved the blog again but I dare not say more about your gift!
Love A
Namaste Anne,
ReplyDeleteWhat an amazing journey ... I missed the first few posts but have been following lately with much envy and awe. Thanks for sharing.
See you soon :)
Kate R.