Four Funerals & a Building

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We welcome you to this Blog with just a selection of the questions and greetings that face us every other minute in India. Enjoy:

'You want rickshaw?'
'Hello. Money?'
'Hello. 10 rupees?'
'What country?'
'Hello Madam. You want look my shop? Looking is free.'
Hello Madam. You want guide? Cannot get into the palace/temple/fort/museum without guide.'
'Madam. Where you go? You not want to talk?'

We think this goes to show that the Indian people are quite possibly the loveliest, welcoming and friendliest people in the world! Unfortunately, we’re finding it difficult to be as friendly as the Indians as we’re not sure whether they realize that we get asked the same questions fifty times a day.

This is an example of the conversation we will have at least 10 times a day with various different rickshaw men, hotel owners, shop owners, random people on the street, and anyone else that wants to ask.

'Hello. What country you from?'
'England'
'Ah, very nice country.’
'Yes, thank you. It’s ok.'
'You like India?'
’Yes. It’s very busy and noisy but we like it a lot.'
'You have boyfriend?' (Looks at Gail)
'No........'
'You not married?'
(long pause)
'No......'
'How old you?"
'26/27.'
'Oh... can I have photo?'
(if person is a teenage boy, he will take one anyway 'slyly' on his mobile phone. A woman will just laugh and take one quite blatantly).



AGRA = Agro

We landed in Agra late in the afternoon shielding our eyes so that we didn’t accidentally spot the Taj Mahal. Unfortunately our hotel had a rooftop restaurant. Thanks to Gail and her mum’s big build up, we were a little disappointed at our first glimpse of it poking out behind the wall but this didn’t stop us staring at it for the next hour!

We decided to beat the crowds and rose at 5.30am to view the Taj at sunrise, alongside every other bloody tourist in Agra. We arrived there about 6am…then joined the ticket queue…. Then joined the entrance queue…. Then joined the security queue… then Gail joined the pissed off queue when The Knitted Characters (who had also queued patiently in Gail’s back pockets) FAILED the security check. Gutted. So, she trotted off to join the locker queue ten-minutes down the road and put the criminals in jail. After all this, the gates didn’t actually open until 7am and the sun was shining brightly. The best laid plans…

There’s no denying that the excitement when walking into the Taj Mahal is immense. We entered by the West Gate and the building was hidden from view. As we approached a grand archway the Taj emerge into view and our ears were battered with the sound of hundreds of cameras attempting to capture the perfect shot; however, we’re not sure many succeed as it’s simply heaving with tourists. You’ll spot hoards of people all over our photographs but I guess that’s what you get with one of the world’s biggest landmarks. As cliché as it may sound, this moment was always going to be special - for Gail - after hearing so much about it from traveling around India. Nikki didn’t experience a sense of euphoria but thought it ‘was pretty medium’. It seems the closer you walk up to it, the more impressive it becomes. The white marble was cleaned of all the pollution a few years ago and it looks stunning. We had no idea just how massive it actually is until we stood next to it. (There’s a photograph of Gail sat in the arch which will give you an idea). In order to go inside it, they insist that you wear little white shoe-covers to preserve the structure. One of Nikki’s highlights was discovering that it actually stinks of farts when inside the tomb where the guy that built it is buried. They really should consider modernizing to Air-con. Another of her highlights was meeting some American lesbians who we became friends with over a beer.

If you’ve seen ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ you’ll have quite a good idea of just how busy this place is with touts. So much so that Gail had to fight her way past them in order to pose on The Princess Diana Bench for her mum. Nikki thought she was going to get punched for taking the photo! The gardens and various benches around it are rather pretty and we had a few hours of posing, admiring and laughing at the cheesy poses people insist on doing. The matching red sandstone mosques, which stand on either side of the Taj, are still in active use and sadly overlooked by many. As the Taj is identical on each side, we were able to get some stunning photos of it through one of the mosque’s archways.

We spent the rest of the morning at The Red Fort. It’s taken quite a while for us to realize that we don’t really like forts and should stop going to them as they are very expensive. It seemed people were more interested in looking at the Taj from here as opposed to admiring the Fort, which is a shame. We may not enjoy them but to see the graffiti and paan spitting marks all over them is a bit sad. The rest of our waking moments in Agra were spent bickering with rickshaw men, shop owners and restaurant owners. These men seem to think that we can’t walk anywhere, we always want to buy some crap tacky Taj memorabilia and that we constantly need to eat. They really are incredibly persistent and irritating. Overall, Agra is a rather rundown place which only attracts people by the busload because of the Taj.



VARANASI (The river Ganges)


We arrived in Varanasi on another night train in which Nikki spent hours throwing paper at a fat snoring man and then sitting outside the carriage toilet to stop herself punching him. We have come to realize that in India, it would be our problem that we couldn’t sleep, not him being rude snoring.

The guide books describe Varanisi as the epitome of India. This could not be any more true. It’s the extreme of everything: life and death; cut throat survival of the fittest; religious influence; wealth and poverty. The small streets and the Ghats (these are steps leading down to the holy river Ganges) are like a farmyard - cows; buffalo; dogs; puppies; cats; goats; geese; pigeons; with humans thrown in for good measure. There is shit covering most of the footpaths (Gail skidded in her flip flops in a fresh cow pat). The river itself is the life source of the city and it is used for survival. People are constantly washing clothes, bathing, drinking, brushing teeth, dipping dead bodies, washing animals and swimming in it. It’s difficult for us to comprehend all of this as we know that 36 sewage pipes flow into this river in Varanasi alone; but, this is the holiest place in India for believers in Hinduism and the river sacred. Even at 5.30 in the morning, the river was alive with people bathing and going about their daily lives.

At the station our hotel pick up didn’t turn up which meant we were on our own! We managed to get a rickshaw so far to the Ghats (the streets are so small that vehicles cannot fit down them). Backpacks are a universal symbol for vulnerability. Touts stick to you like a rash. We let one lead us to a hotel on the promise of a $3.50 room. We realized after walking for 15 minutes in and back out of town, in midday sun, that we were a bit screwed and had no idea where we were. Varanasi is like a rabbit warren and literally IMPOSSIBLE to navigate. So we took the room… the bathroom had a roof but the bed was designed to inflict pain. And pain it inflicted (Gail woke in the night to take Ibuprofen for her hips).

On the evening of arrival, we took a sunset boat ride on the river to watch the nightly ceremony on the Dasaswamedh Ghat. This is performed by Brahmin young men only and is done to bless the river. Brahmins are top of the caste system. The question of the Indian caste system was raised with our guide in the river boat and it seems that in Varanisi, the system is still alive and well. Strangely, the guide doesn’t see the caste system as a negative, even though it is so restrictive to many people (this may be because he belonged to a higher caste!). The ceremony draws a huge crowd every night - mainly Indians. As with the rest of Varanisi, it’s a great time to do some serious people watching. Oh, and to pay extortionate prices for chai and flowers to sail down the river.

The majority of our time in Varanasi was spent people watching as it’s just fascinating. It’s not peaceful people watching in Varanasi. The locals want to say hello and chat, the holy men want to sell you weed and opium (erm… no thanks) and the kids want to sell you post cards and other various bits of tat. Whilst trying to avoid all this, a man plays a flute in your face, 10 men are shouting from the river ‘Madam! You want boat?’ and the continuous stream of beggars are asking for money. Phew… It really was an exhausting few days! Sad as it is, the children selling various items seem to have been indoctrinated from such a young age that they could be potential candidates for ‘The Apprentice’. We’ve watched them do the same routine on different groups of tourists yet still we caved in and bought some rubbish postcards. Gail went to visit a school which is completely funded by the local bakery and charity. The government contributes nothing. It costs them 80,000 rupees a month (1160 pounds) for 95 kids and includes health checks for them and their parents, uniforms and equipment. This is a hell of a lot of money in India but without the charity these children would have no access to education. It was sad to learn from the Principle that the parents of these children are ‘lower-caste’ and some are very reluctant to let them attend school as they feel they are of more use selling on the street or begging for money. The children were so excited and welcoming and Gail’s vowed to help the school in the future.

There are about 30 Ghats (if not more) leading to the river. Our hotel was just next to Manikarnika Ghat which is also known as the main Burning Ghat. We had to walk around this every day as we were too stupid to navigate the streets without getting lost. This is the holiest place on the river as it is here that the bodies of Hindus are cremated. We did think that this would be a rather well kept area but it was actually full of animals, poo, rubbish and chai shops!

We were expecting to see burning bodies floating down the river but this seems to be a western urban myth. We were told by the guides that around 200 bodies are burnt a day here (24/7), the most we saw at one time was 9. The bodies of the deceased are paraded down the tiny streets leading to the Ghats on a stretcher made from cloth and bamboo. They are cover in fabrics and silks. Once they reach the river, the body is dipped in the Ganges and water is placed in their mouth. The family then have to buy the wood from the ‘wood shop’ where this is weighed out perfectly to ensure just the right amount is use to burn the body. Some members of the family then build the pyre and the body is placed on the top and then covered in wood before oils are sprinkled on. Watching this ceremony was so interesting as it’s so different to anything we do at western funerals. The whole process is a celebration as Hindus believe life, death and rebirth is a cycle. Being cremated at the Ganges breaks this cycle; therefore there is singing, dancing music and laughter. Women are not allowed to attend these ceremonies as they kept throwing themselves on their husband’s pyre… silly women. Some groups of people cannot be cremated as they are either already pure or holy (or disabled in some cases). These people are weighted to the bottom of the river with rocks but they often pop back up and float along which is a bit unnerving.

We managed to escape the Ghats for one afternoon and took a trip to Sarnath. This is a town just outside Varanasi where the great Buddha gave his first sermon. It’s one of 4 pilgrim sights in the world for Buddhists. On arrival we were introduced to our guide. He was the smallest man ever and called himself Dave. Is this an Indian name?! Dave was lovely and helpful, showing us the main Temple and also the Tibetan, Japanese and Chinese Buddhist Temples. At the main temple Gail was feeling rather sick and sought out a quiet corner. Within seconds, she was spotted and surrounded by the friendliest group of Indian women who insisted on touching, squeezing and putting her hands on their head. What followed was another photo shoot, by the tanned and therefore unappreciated Nikki, on their old-school cameras. We think these women had traveled in from villages to have a butchers at the temples and were not used to shining skin.

A few final Varanasi observations:

-On the final day we had poorly tummy and botties (again) and foolishly went on an early morning boat ride…
-The traffic in Varanasi is relentlessly mental (had our 1st crash in a rickshaw)
-Rickshaw man let Gail drive the rickshaw! (this was not the crash)
-Rickshaw men will always ask for more money at the end of a journey despite agreeing (an already inflated) price
-A man beat up a dog so much it made Gail cry.
-We passed a mother and baby Goat that had literally just been born behind the burning Ghat (still had blood coming from her bum)
-Nikki befriended a group of young men at the burning Ghat (this has started a trend - we couldn’t shake them off in Jaipur)
-There seem to be more mosquitoes here than anywhere in the world
-Women manage to bathe whilst still wearing a saree and not revealing any body bits. Men also keep their pants on but are less careful about exposure…
-Varanasi has the worst train station in India - it is necessary to huddle under a speaker on the bridge to hear when and where your train is coming in.

And that sums up Varanasi. We hope. This is the first place in India that seemed to really test us as it was so extreme. We feel it tested the survival skills we’ve learnt so far in India. Had we come here two weeks into the trip we think we would have been eaten alive by the Ganges! It’s a really reflective place to visit and it’s impossible not to compare and contrast the cultures of the western world and that of India. It certainly provided food for thought on funerals, life, death, family, celebrations… everything! Despite having a great time, Gail was very relieved to leave and does not want to return.

And so onto another train into Rajasthan for Jaipur and Jodhpur, then down to Mumbai to leave for Singapore… sniff sniff.

Lots of love! Xxxx

Click next for more fabulous pictures.

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Photos

'The Shot'
or the closest we could get to it!

burning Ghat
no bodies burning

Comments

[rachie baby]

woohoo
hiya dudes! i love this blog - it keeps me entertained when im bored at work. i must say, india sounds like hell - everything yoiur saying about varansi sounds exactly like kathmandu and that was enough for me! i would have left for nice westernized singapore a long long time ago - so well dont you, well, not so much nicky coz i new she'd make it, gail on other hand, hmm looks like i may owe laura £5 - JOKE! i cant wait for the rest of the blog its brilliant! hella interesting and i love your photos. really tho you should start putting red dots on your head and in your hair line coz people will think you are marrined and leave you be. are you guys going to still be away in October/november/december this year? im off for 3 months on sabatical you see and going to fiji for between 8 and 10 weeks, but not decided what to do with the othe 2/4 weeks yet. also - flights for june/july/august are getting insanely busy now so can you guys have a think about what date changes you might need and let me know. big love mwah xxx