Holy, Hot, & Here...

So I'm talking to this guy in one of India's great trains covering enormous distances for a penny's price. I find some of his questions a bit intrusive, but hey...it's just him and me chattin' as I look out the door to sounds of an Indian night with glimpses of shadows crossing my viewpath now and again.

Some of our convo was innocent--probably all of it to him--but when he started asking, "How much money do you make in one month?", I really hesitated, cuz if there's one thing I've learned in my lengthy period of SEA, it's that people judge you based on the most silly and superficial things (ie. white=ATM..."where's your button?"). So I told him what I made in S. Korea and he said--to my relief--that's not much for your country, is it? I didn't correct him on the place of employment and offerred, "no, not much at all." He asked on and on, and more questions about why I'm not married, where I was headed and why...you know the usual. I was happy when he turned away, but came to realize that all of our "private conversation" at that moment, became a public anouncement to the entire train car I was in.

I overheard every 5th word (in understandable English) was something I had said, and he left nothing out, quick to explain how little I made in comparison to the rest of my countrymen, and on and on...I was a bit shocked, though I don't know why I didn't expect it.

Then the moment of pure laughter hit me full on as he turned from his audience of 30ish towards me with a great smile and said, "actually, they all want to know if you wash your clothes, or just wear them once and throw them away." I'm still laughin!

I looked down at my apparel and realized I had kinda let things go...ahhh, yeah, really let things go. Though, to my defense, I always wear the same "warrior shirt", which is my lucky, travel shirt that's quite dirty and thus, no worry about sleepin' in bus/train stations, steppin' in who knows what, etc. I told him, "no, I don't just wear them once and throw them away...I'm not MAD!" I tried to explain this concept of a ritual shirt I put on b4 I embark on a journey, but pulled back mid-swing realizing the futility of my argument...the fact was, I was beyond recognition...I was filthy!

Varanasi was a place as special as anyone could and has described it. Every morning people from the town and those from far, far away come to dip into the holiest of rivers, La Ganga--Ganges as it's known to the west--starting at 5am when the sun is just waking up and on till 7am when it's a bit too hot to be out there. Daily ablutions, cleansing away all sin and unholy is a daily event that no matter how many times you see it, doesn't fail to exhalt you to the spiritual level embodied in the act.

I rented a boat with a Chilean guy I met along the way and we snapped a load of shots, none of which give the setting its proper loft. The peace of being rowed on mama ganga instead of some outrigger blowin' smoke was refreshing at 5am.



There are 2 ghats (steps down to Ganga) where photo-taking is prohibited due to the spirituality of the burning of the bodies. This is what Varanasi is known for, I suppose.

A few facts: People will fly their loved ones to this holy city just to have them burned in this holiest of cities. The body must be burned within 6 hours of declared death. 5 types of people are not allowed to be burned: Holy people (priests, sadhus, etc.), children, pregnant women, lepers (considered a holy sign from God), and people having been bitten by cobras (which is considered a holy creature, thanks to Shiva). Only the lowest caste can burn the bodies; this class called "The Untouchables" and once the body has been burned, a bit of the ashes are cast into the river. For those aforementioned, unable to be burned, a "casket" (really a raft made of banana trees) is constructed and the body is put atop, and the casket is sent down the Ganga. It takes no less than 150kg (~330lbs) of hardwood (special from a forest far away) to burn one body...no less than, right? Each kilo costs around $2-4US (depending on you ask) and thus makes for quite the cremation cost. There's an eerie building right by the main burning ghat, full of old people just waiting to die. Remember, it's a real privilege to die in Varanasi.

The colors of Varanasi, ignited by the radiant sun were what really stain my memory.

From there, I made way to Agra which is known for the world's most perfect man-made monument, The Taj Mahal. According to skeptical legend, Shah Jahan dedicated this massive marble monument to his beloved wife, Mahal. I checked it from behind and from inside...both render great eye-candies.

The monument is truly breathtaking--as is the cost of entrance--and one can pass several hours easily strolling around. The clouds came out on the day I chose, and due to current, unpredictable rain patterns, I chose not to risk the next day. My pics show a fraction of its grandeur.

While in Agra, the temp topped 109F, though weather professionals--who?--said the "realfeel" was closer to 115F; it felt no less than that 2 me on my rented, rusted bicycle. Though this was the hottest of all days, it's been no less than 100F the entire week in Varanasi and Agra, w/ "realfeel"s bein' 2 stupid 2 cite. My clothes have finally been cleansed w/ the holiest of water (aka. Ganga) of their sweat-stains, thanks 2 the comment by train car S3, and I'm finally chillin' in the foothills of the Himalayas; in the town of retreats, Rishikesh.

Photo Pholder: Check out a new pic site from Picasa since the crappy Yahoo Photos is shutting down in the fall...ahh, don't know what's gonna happen to all those photos; kinda sad, considering I erased many of them, thinking I'd have eternal copies online. I've only one album currently, but the format is soooo much better than that of YP; check it--India.

Muzic: The most recent of The Decemberists, "The Crane Wife" has a bloody depressing intro, but quickly moves into all sorts of arrangements, which at times seem a bit non-cohesive. It's still good quality music none-the-less, and certain tracks can't find there way out me skull.

Reads: Rushdie ceases NOT to amaze me with "Midnight's Children"...still! I don't know if there's a better book to read while travelling thru India. He interposes an amazing amusement portrayed thru his deft capacity with the English language between a rich, familial story and Indian history told in a very interesting fashion. It's substantial, it's worth anyone's time...again, I plug this great Indian Author...get anything of his!