Jaunpur: the kindness of strangers

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I skipped the early morning rituals and slept till 9AM. A nice shower and a paratha-with-curd breakfast gave me the strengths to hang out in my room to pack my bags for the next leg of my journey. I was going to watch a bit of TV under the fan until the right time but the Alka Hotel staff knew my weakness: they unplugged the satellite TV. I had to leave the room for the cleaners. Nicely played.

It was hot, there were people everywhere and I needed a rickshaw to go to the station. I was not in a good mood. I marched my way through the Old Town Varanasi streets, and ended up on the congested main road. I found a rickshaw driver who was willing to drive me to the station for 70 rupees. Good deal, I thought. He said however that he wanted one more passenger because that’s a cheap price for the ride. I said OK but little did I know that he was planning to rip me off in epic proportions. He ended up taking 5 other passengers in the cramped rickshaw, who paid only 10 rupees for the ride. I had all my bags and was too weak to get into a big fight. I am still fantasizing about the smack down I should have initiated. He got the idea when I threw the money on the back seat. He also understood the word “rip-off”.

Varanasi Junction is the large intestine of train stations. The piles of human, bovine and canine excrement on the tracks offered little to no breathable air to the platform 5 area. Every few minutes, people threw plastic bags, empty cups of tea and banana peels on the tracks that the wandering cows or monkeys just proceeded to rip apart. There was a constant flow of black, nearly radioactive water flowing near the tracks. I could see frogs in that water. I wonder if that’s how Godzilla was born. And I saw my first rats since I’m here! 4 large black disease-carriers squeezing their way through pipes and trash. I was glad to board the train. I sat near a blind lady and her grandson who told her when and where she could lie down. We reached Jaunpur City station in about an hour.

I stepped out of the station expecting to be assaulted by drivers. No such thing. People were casually staring at me while idle rickshaws were waiting by the side of the road. Jaunpur is not in my guidebook. In fact, I don’t believe it’s in any guidebook. I just read that there was a nice Mughal bridge, a fort and an unusual mosque. I had a little map I had printed at home in my pocket and I planned on trusting my gut feelings for this city. A climbed in a tempo to take me to the other train station where I would leave my bag for the day. The ride was nice, but cramped (it’s a tempo after all). At the station however, there was no cloakroom. I needed to carry my bag across the city. Bad start.

I hailed a cycle rickshaw to take me to Shahi Bridge, built by the Mughals. I got a few stares as I paraded high upon the rickshaw seat along the main street. The city itself is very colorful with old buildings reborn through pastel paint and bright advertisements. The street crossing the bridge is peppered with jewelry stores which gave me the impression that Jaunpur is a rather rich city. There weren’t many beggars either. At the bridge, I walk down to river level to take a nice picture of the bridge’s architecture, with its little towers on each side. I was getting a lot of attention at that riverside temple with my big bags and my camera.

Then I walked toward the fort, waving hello to curious onlookers and dodging the recurrent “Hello, man!”, “What country?” and “What’s your name?” I got tired of answering every request for attention… I was able to leave my bag at the entrance of the fort (Thank God!) and walked in. I got lucky when bird feces landed on my hand as I approached the gate. Could have been worse.

The walls of the fort are well-preserved and there is an old mosque and a ghostly hammam inside. The rest of it is just grass, trees and great views on the city and the river. Some guy with a big stick, probably in charge of chasing away monkeys, was following me and I had the bad feeling that he was trying to be my guide. I tried losing him more than once but his round face kept appearing over my shoulder. Eventually he let me go and I sat on a bench under a tree to read my notes on the fort (printed, also).

A kid with a “Ruff Jeans” t-shirt and an older teenager came to sit with me. Oh, no. Not again. But it turned out to be the best thing to happen to me in Jaunpur. Little Maz knew everything about Jaunpur and the fort. We ended up talking for about an hour. He told me about the history of India, religious equality and basic pop culture. He liked the Terminator, I Robot and Twilight. He’s a big Edward fan and hates Jacob. He thinks he’s ugly and stupid. His big brother couldn’t speak English but he was looking proudly at him as the little guy was having a full-blown conversation with the man from the other side of the world.

Later on, he offered to take me to Atala Masjid, the unusual mosque inspired by both Islamic and Hindu architecture. I followed him down the road and into the mosque. Proud Muslims were looking at me suspiciously and I kept asking Maz if everything was alright. Prayer calls resonated through the streets and it didn’t seem to be the best time to bother all of them. I filmed a bit and headed out. I bought myself some could drinks and offered Maz something but he wouldn’t take anything. He left with a “I want to go home, now. Good bye”. Such a genuinely nice kid.

Back at the station, I waited for my train with a book. People were sitting in groups with big bundles of whatever. Geckos came out of hiding when the sun went down and dogs were chasing each other across the tracks. A woman was washing her baby at the pump on the platform. It all seemed normal until Dr. Something came to talk to me. The train was running late (surprise!) and I was getting impatient. Dr. Something asked all the usual questions and told me about his family. He had a constant smile on his face that made him look dumb. So much so that even the other people who naturally orbited me were looking at him with a bit of embarrassment. He crossed the bridge with me when the train was announced to arrive on the next platform and stayed close. Eventually he told me that there was a party at the hospital he works at and he was a little drunk. That explained the smile. When the train puffed in, I ran to Sleeper car S5 and left him, finally.

People must have been carrying bundles of wood or grass on the seat I had reserved. There were bugs everywhere: tiny beetles, fleas, flies, small moths and even a big grasshopper that was struggling to fly near the ceiling fans. I kept checking my legs as I grew paranoid that something somewhere was crawling over me. At one point, I found a beetle inside my shirt. It didn’t seem to bother the Sikh man sitting in front of me that much as he just casually brushed aside a moth on his arm. I was the one to get rid of the grasshopper. It had landed on the Sikh guy’s bag on the seat in front of me and with a quick brush he was out the window. Nicely done.

Daily nugget: Maz knew about Berlin being the capital of Germany (thanks in part to Don 2 with Sharukh Khan) and I ended up recording a message from him for all Germany to be my friend. I’m a “great man”. That was nice…

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