contrast

Varanasi is a city full of contrasts... life and death are right at your fingertips. It is the most auspicious place to be cremated for a Hindu, so people bring dead bodies there from all over India. And it is also full of life, with all of the colorful pilgrims who come there to have a dip in the sacred Ganges river, or visit one of the many Brahman priests for a colorful puja, healing ceremony. The dark ashes at the cremation grounds contrast with the bright fire from the evening arati ceremony on the river. And the filthy ascetics contrast with the radiant shine of the golden temple. The people in Varanasi can be super gentle and sweet, and some are incredibly pushy and rough.

I loved allowing myself to get lost, strolling through the tiny alley-ways that wound through this ancient city. These walkways are too small for cars, and traffic jams happen when a sacred cow and a motorcycle are trying to get through the same small space. Once, I heard chanting and looked up expecting a joyful parade like I saw in Rishikesh, only to see a family carrying a dead body on a bamboo plank, covered in bright gold cloth and flowers. The sunrise boat ride was perfect for sightseeing, with the morning light shined on the colorful saris of the women dipping in the river, the men praying and meditating, the children playing cricket, and the puppies playing in the sand.

I thought I would study some massage in Varanasi, but I found the massages that I had there to be simple and not very satisfying (next time I come to India, I will go to Kerela to study massage). Instead of massage, I decided to study Indian vocals! I love listening to, and singing along with Indian chanting music, and I sometimes sing back-up with the local kirtan group in Chicago, Devi2000). So, I thought it would be nice to learn more about traditional Indian vocals. My instructor promptly told me I needed to learn Harmonium at the same time I learned how to sing, so I learned the Indian scale (similar to Do Re Me...) and we were singing away! I took three lessons with him, and I can't say I learned much about vocalizing, but I had fun, and enjoyed the Harmonium! He was impressed with my pronounciation, as well as how fast I pickedup harmonium (thanks to 10 years of piano lessons!) And it was a nice way to pass the time on a hot afternoon.

Many people say a trip to India is not complete without a trip to the Taj Mahal, so I headed there for one day, and it was amazing. I loved walking through the entrance, with the feeling of awe that I was actually seeing the legendary building itself... live and in person. What a testimony to love! I met another solo woman traveler watching the last of the sunset light brush against the Taj, and she invited me to her rickshaw driver's friend's wedding! I quickly went out and purchased a Punjabi dress, pants and scarf, and we hopped into the rickshaw to see the wedding. It was nothing like what I have seen in the movies, except that the bride was covered in decorations, and the red sari was covering her face. She didn't appear to be a very happy bride, and I wondered if she was upset with the arranged marriage. My friend and I became the highlight of the party. There was no music being played, and no drinking, as it was a Muslim wedding. The sparkling, henna tatooed wedding party posed for pictures with us, and the kids all wanted to play with us. Some of the girls were giggling and laughing and pointing at me (I'm sure I made some kind of faux-pas, but I will never know what because they would not tell me). They made sure we were well fed, and we ate just like everyone else, with our fingers, standing up! Soon after we were done eating, it was time to go home! So that was it, no dancing, and we never saw the bride and groom together. It was still a great experience!

I spent one day in Delhi, soaking in the sights, and taking advantage of the opportunity to buy beautiful Indian textiles, and having fun with the barganing adventure, sending a box of gifts and goodies home. And I am now writing you from Kathmandu, Nepal where I will soon be on a heading for the Himalayan Mountains for some trekking. (And this time I will be hiking above the smog, and I will hopefully get a good view!) Just three more weeks on this amazing adventure and I will be back in the states!

choice

It is probably a good idea to read the fine print in your guide book before you chose the type of train ticket you book in India. There is a wide range of seats available. All I cared about was being able to lay down flat, since it was 20 hour journey from Sikkim to Varanasi, so I booked "sleeper class". When my friends heard this, they told me to lock my bags up, and be very cautious about thieves, as the train was going through the province of Bihar, one of the poorest areas of the country. I was hoping to have a buddy to take this trip with, but I didn't have any luck with that on this leg of my journey. But I had faith that I would connect with an angel or two along my journey. What I usually do is get myself in a really good mood, and smile a lot, and I bring out the best in people (I also keep my valuables in my handy hip pouch). I sat down in across from a sweet couple who couldn't help but stare, and a young Indian man sat next to me who was thrilled with the opportunity to practice his English. I was the only foreigner on the train. It was a pretty dark car, and could definitely use a good scrub, but I opened the windows, and was happy to see the beautiful country side rolling by clearly. I later found out that the A/C and first class cars have plexiglass windows, which are often scratched up and difficult to see out of, so I took advantage of this ride by gazing out at the people and landscapes that we passed (and attempted to capture the beauty with my camera, of course!) The young guy ended up keeping me company and translating for the couple (who thought I was very brave, traveling solo... she rarely leaves her house without her husband). I soon found out that she was on her way to Varanasi because they have a good hospital, and she had a lump in her breast. Her vitality seemed low, and I wondered if she might have cancer, and imagined how different her journey would be from the people I have worked with in my massage practice in the states.

Every stop the train made, local people would come aboard, selling mangoes, cucumbers, samosas, tshirts, toys, water, and of course chai tea! Along with the vendors came the beggars. And as soon as they saw my blond hair, they saw gold, and came right to me. The kids would reach through the metal bars on the window with their little hands, tapping my shoulder, then opening up to receive, saying "madame, madame" and motioning to their mouths. It was difficult for me to see children in this state, as you almost never see children this poor where I am from. I had heard that begging was a bit of a business, and that there were bosses who collected the money from these children and managed things (as seen in Slumdog Millionaire) and I didn't want to support this business. I did however want to make sure that they had food, so I would buy a bunch of bananas and pass them out. Some of the kids smiled and skipped off.. and some of them gave me a funny look and held their hand out again saying "rupee!" It was difficult for me to ignore. One girl kept motioning to her mouth, showing that she was hungry, so I bought her some vegetable curry, with flat bread... and she didn't want to take it at first... but she did after she realized she wasn't going to get any rupees for me, and her friends were happy to share with her.

One particular beggar stuck out in my memory: He was an older man who had both of his lower arms amputated, and used the stump of one arm to open up his bag to receive the rupees that I gave him. Can you imagine what your life would be like if you didn't have hands? And then I remembered the video of Nick Vijicic, the inspirational speaker who has no arms, and no legs, and yet is totally happy... and I remembered how everything is a choice... and I chose to have a safe, peaceful journey. It is still difficult to apply that concept to these people who appeared to be suffering so much... did they create their situations? Was it karma that forced them into these circumstances? Whatever the reason, they do have many ways of coping with their circumstances... and one thing I did not see in these people was shame. They are not afraid to ask for what they need. So later that night when I was sleeping, I wasn't afraid to strongly say "Leave me alone!" to the strange man who was sleeping in the bed above me, and kept hanging his head down to stare at me, guessing out loud which country I was from. Even though this was extremely annoying, I could understand his behaviour... if I had never met anyone from another country, I would be a little excited as well. All of this has made me so grateful for the diversity of my life growing up in Chicago. My best friends in my neighborhood were a Puerto Rican family across the alley, and the Yugoslavian couple next door to me felt like my third set of grandparents. India has a lot of diversity, but not much exposure to foreigners, even if you live in one of the big cities. But thank goodness, he listened to me, and I got a decent night sleep. When I woke up, I discovered someone had gone through my backpack (note: locking zippers are a good idea in India) and taken a couple tank tops and short skirts (which is funny because Indian women don't even wear these items!) But I was happy to arrive in Varanasi safe and sound... and then I got bombarded by taxi and rickshaw drivers! I just laughed at the absurdity... and probably paid too many rupees for the ride, but was ready to be in a real bed... and grateful that I chose to have that experience, even if it was on accident.