What goes India, soon comes straight Outta Ya

I read a clever quip somewhere that Indian food is the cuisine that you taste once but experience twice. We've been in the country 2 days and already got hit with the bug. I believe the only way to steel yourself from the perils of Indian dining would be to go the subway station at 50th street and lick the handrail from bottom to top. It's not stopping us from eating off the street, however. It's absolutely superb dining. I can only imagine it's like heroin-- you know somewhere down the line you'll end up crouched over shivering, but you'll bear it all for that brief moment of ecstasy-- (I can assure you that I'm no heroine fiend-- save for one Linda Carter). We just plan on using our Cipro as an after-dinner mint.

So we arrived in Varanasi, one of the holiest cities in India lying on the west bank of the Ganges-- the sacred river where Hindus come to wash away their sins. Day and night you can see people bathing, laundering their clothes, brushing their teeth, washing cows- and it all happens within 10 feet of each other. Bodies are even cremated at some designated ghats (the stone steps leading to the river) as Hindus believe that dying in Varanasi will bring "moksha", or finally pull the plug on the reincarnation carousel.

It's a fantastic place. There's life in every corner- pilgrims are down on the ghats, worshippers are ringing bells in the temples, street vendors bark at you from all angles imploring you to "just take a look" and rickshaw drivers yell over each other to win your patronage. We feared that Varanasi would be the testing ground for our patience as we had heard that the touts will fray even the hardiest of travelers. But honestly we haven't come close to the breaking point. We do get several invitations and pleas from silk store owners and cycle drivers who think by shouting "rickshaw" in your ear 8 times, it'll subtlely sink in that, hey, I need to take a rickshaw. A sampling of the excruciating dialogue :

Hello friend! Do you remember me? You need a rickshaw?
-- no thanks, we're just going to the corner there.
Yes, yes, it's fine. You take a rickshaw.
-- ah, no- seriously, we're going just right there.
Ok. Well you take rickshaw.
-- um, no thanks. no rickshaw
Rickshaw?
--...

...and it'll continue on like that (!)....but they're not COMPLETELY unreasonable. You can only take rejection so much before you give up-- they'll fall off after 20 exchanges or so (and cling on to the next tourist).

Varanasi is the most exciting at night, when the maze of alleys in the old part of town turn dark and we try to find our hotel by weaving past families of cows, hopping over fresh dung and running from scowling dogs and rabid goats. Trying to sleep in our room, we'll awaken to the sounds of squabbling monkeys on the rooftops in the late evening and the echos of motor-propelled boats and bellowing boatmen in the early morning-- things that normally might wear at you but, here, simply add to the spurring and vivacious life of India.

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