We took the night train from Khajuraho at 11pm. It was very cold in the train all night, and a group of Japanese tourists were chatting loudly in the morning so we woke up earlier than needed.
Henri reenacts his reaction to the noisy tourists.
There was also a dude with a stick who banged on the bunk behind me at 5 or 6 am, shouting. The conversation went like this:
Man With Stick: Where are you from!?
Tourist: Korea.
Man With Stick: Do you have a travel problem?
Tourist: No???
Then the man with the stick walked away WITHOUT EXPLANATION. India had just redefined rude awakenings for me.
We were supposed to arrive at 11:20 am but we got off the train at 2pm. Arghhh!
After struggling with rickshaw drivers, which was stranger than a Twilight Zone episode, we eventually got to the guest house which was surrounded by monkeys. Some of them started getting violent and chased me and Henri off the rooftop. My scream brought out the guest house manager and the french couple staying next door. I kept flashing back to the Czech girl we met in Agra who said, "monkeys are not your friend!" I don't think I'd never been more frightened since I arrived in this country; not even when I was "attacked" by a cow!
Autumn has definitely arrived, it was only 5:30 and the sun had already set. We took a short walk from behind the guest house, which led to Pandahey Ghat, which in turn was just five to ten minutes away from the Main Ghat. We saw some people seated on the steps, so we picked a spot to sit too. Others had started lighting candles to release onto the river.
Soon after, a show had begun on the ghats and tourists came on boats to watch the fiery offering ceremony.
The next morning, we decided to explore the southern ghats, but not before having some breakfast at Mona Lisa Café, a backpacking institution here in Varanasi. Just in front was this resto-guest house, which proudly advertised why they are different from other places:
The concept of cleanliness seems to have escaped the minds of most people here, wading through trash and merde daily. Restaurants have a legendary reputation for making tourists sick; some of them will try to convince you they are more clean -- when it's obvious they are not. A case of self-delusion?
We happened upon a cremation and it was a shocking sight. I didn't want to see one, but it was unavoidable, I guess, even though I looked away as soon as I realized what I had walked in on. There were three bodies in the fire and one unlit body on top of a pyre that looked like it was sleeping. It was a powerful and unforgettable sight.
No, we did not take pictures of that, but we snapped a lot of other things. This time, there were no costumes and ritual fire dances, but it still felt like we were watching a movie set on the Ganges -- no, better yet, we felt like we were IN a movie. Life along the Ganges is bizarre but vibrant, eccentric but exciting, stinky AND sticky.
I'm pretty proud of Henri's journalistic shot of a cow peeing.
There was a big flooding here a few months back, and these guys are still trying to wash the 18-foot high wall of river waste that had hardened over the ghats.
While some continued on their routine of washing clothes, taking baths, washing the buffalos, brushing teeth...
Sometimes, there is really no way to cross to the ghats so we would take the little medieval streets of Varanasi.
That same night, there was a Diwali show at the second main ghat (I know it doesn't make sense, but...) and foreigners had a special section. Some locals tried to sit in our tiny area but the guard sometimes sneaks behind them and slaps them on the back of the head.
3 comments:
"Some locals tried to sit in our tiny area but the guard sometimes sneaks behind them and slaps them on the back of the head."- hahahaha!!! parang tvj lang!
Gorgeous pics, as usual ! You rock, guys ! :-)
Thanks Nikka!
@ Agay - actually, naalala ko sina Balut ;)
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