From Varanasi to Blessed Civilization

Well...been a long time between posts. It has taken me this long to wrap my head around the sojourn to Varanasi...beautiful, stinking, mysterious, enrapturing, filthy, amazing Varanasi, the holiest city in India. We took the train from Agra to Varanasi - 12 hours in a shaky (dirty, need I say) train not knowing what to expect. When we arrived in the smoky station in the morning there was a man to meet us and we were taken through the bustling traffic to our hotel which was NOT what we expected. Omygod, so dirty, so grimy. It smelled of kerosene and we realized why when we saw the filthy rags the boys had "cleaned" our room with. We quickly asked for a new room and bless their hearts, they tried to make the new room good for us by bringing in a wee tv and showed us the balcony, but overall, it was still an unwelcoming abode. What do you do when the choice is between cheap and very, very expensive? We made ourselves as at home as was possible. Then we went out to explore the ghats and the area with our hotel guide, a savvy, kind young man who showed us around.

The ghats are houses built by various maharajahs that stretch down to the holy Ganges banks where the people basically live their spiritual lives. Early the next morning we floated along the Ganges in a small boat with an oarsman as the sun came up. A most amazing sight as the banks are swelled with the people of Varanasi bathing and socializing, hundreds of them praying, washing and children splashing about in the holy river. A corpse floated by while a few feet away a man was brushing his teeth in the water and a woman came for a jug, and the boys did the laundry. Unbelievable.

There is no rest in Varanasi and never a cool breeze, the temperatures were topping mid forties and our air conditioned room was of little consolation since they turn the power off for as much as 17 hours a day. Sadhus (holy men), cows, more cowshit than imaginable, bikes, walkers, tuk-tuks, dogs, monkeys, hawkers, beggars, no end of humanity stream through the streets by the thousands. 4 days in Varanasi such a long, long time. We are hot, dirty (FILTHY) and completely thrashed from the travel. Ivan has had a cold for going on 2 weeks now and suffers, I have Delhi belly constantly and it's depressing. It's hard to explain how you feel in Varanasi. Elation and mood swings and angry and awed and humbled by the spirit of this place and the people and the reverence of the Ganges and the powerful hum of history and life force that upholds this land of contradiction. One day we visit Mother Theresa's hospice and are heartened by this clean oasis on the Ganges. An old lady smiling and frail approaches us and holds our ankles and we are touched, and the sister there tells us that the old people come to Varanasi to die and are weak, frail and undernourished so they take them in and feed their bodies and nourish their spirits and then they get healthy so their trip to Varanasi is wasted as they do not die and leave the hospice healthy! We leave a donation and with uplifted hearts we depart.

It is morning but I am dreaming. The fires burn around me and spirits are set free - Wait! I am not dreaming. This is our last day in the holy city. We walk down to the burning ghats where cremations take place 24 hours a day and sit silently to watch the ritual. 4 bodies are burning, another is brought to the shore with great fanfare of horns and drums and streamers and cloth covering the palanquin holding the body. Down the shore another body is wrapped in white linen and rope and weighted with a rock and placed on a boat. There are 6 kinds of bodies that are not burnt - those who have been bit by a cobra, those with smallpox, lepers, pregnant women, children and Sadhus (holy men), as these are all pure. The rest are liberated from the cycle of reincarnation by cremation at the Ganges. As we watch, one of the bodies on the pyre becomes animated as the heat engulfs. The arms slowly raise to the heavens and we are amazed to see the humanness of this corpse as it sizzles in front of us. One of the family runs over with a pole to lower the arms but this one is not leaving without a last gesture to this world. Slowly they become ashes in front of our eyes and as the legs lose cartilage and form, the bottom half is flipped back by the pole bearers into the fire. It takes about 3 hours for a body to burn and then the ashes are put into the water. It gives a whole new meaning to "ashes to ashes, dust to dust".

There is much happening around this scene that emphasizes how natural this release from life is to the Indian people. Behind us are 2 drunken men in dhotis (well, they look like diapers) who are yelling at eachother and arguing, beside us are boys playing cricket, on shore are dogs and goats chewing up flowers and remains and all around us signs and activities and indications that life goes on and how fragile and hearty it is all at once. The sun beats down and across the water we watch the weighted body roll from the bow of the boat as we head to our hotel for the train to Delhi.

It has never seemed so precious this life and we have never felt such relief at boarding a plane but India does not want to let us go so they delay our flight for 6 hours before we can wave good-bye to magic and mystery that will take a thousand, thousand years for the Yukon to catch up. We are so late that our flight is delayed overnight in Dubai and so we see the city of gold and decadence rising from the desert on our layover.

We are now in Turkey and I can unequivocably say that Turkish Delight is more than a sweet. This country is a cornucopia of wonderful people, beautiful custom, amazing history; heaven has laid her hand on Turkey and we are in love with this cradle of civilization. I have never met so many kind, engaging and warm people and it has restored our love of travel. I shall write later on Turkey and it's wonders but for now, this is to let all and sundry know that we are alive, happy and embraced by this jewel on the Aegean.