Day Five in India - Sarnath and Kutumbh Concert


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January 10th 2012
Published: January 12th 2012
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Day Five 10/01/12



I woke early as is usual when the rest of the world wakes around you, banging and clattering, shouting and singing, ringing and chiming. There has been chanting and bells every morning I have been here. I assumed it was a group of people getting together for a morning singsong but this morning I ventured out early to get some snaps before Mayur arrived and found that it is in fact many people separately worshipping their chosen gods in their miniature shrines on the street. When I arrive back at the hostel I meet Mehdi and Sahi, a brother and sister from Iran. I mention that I plan to go to Sarnath today and they ask to tag along. I'm glad of the company and it turns out they are both into photography so I get to nerd out all day on cameras, lighting and composition etc. Sahi actually teaches photography and so I get a few handy tips along the way.



We head first for the massive Buddhist stupa of red brick. Immediately we all notice how much cleaner it is within the gated grounds. There are very few people within the gardens, which are well kept and we find that it is very refreshing to see some nature again. Next we head to the new 'giant' Buddha statue that has been completed just this year.



This is a Buddha of biblical proportions, I mean Godzilla like and no photo could do justice to the size of it. Once again the grounds are clean and well kept. I approach the statue to take pictures of the shrine at its base only to see a small Indian man running towards me flailing and shouting. I see then that there are many signs around about requesting that shoes be removed before stepping up to the shrine as is the custom in all temples here, so I should have known better. I apologize profusely and Mehdi thinks its hilarious.



The next stop is the one I am most interested in. The stupa that has been built over the space where Buddha gave his first sermon. At the gates where we pay for entry there are beggars, children asking for food, mothers with babies and small boys selling statues of Buddha. I thicken my skin and attempt to walk through but a little girl comes up to me with the biggest eyes I've ever seen stretching her pinched fingers to her lips. I crumble immediately and give her a nutbar from New Zealand that I have in my rucksack and she seems very happy with her purchase. I motion to her to share with the little boy stood next to her and bobbles her head but who knows. I wish I had enough food to give to them all but India is starving at ground level so I could never give enough. I find myself not left with a positive feeling from my small act of altruism but with a sensation of guilt that nothing I could do would ever be enough.



Mehdi gets the tickets and as they are Iranian, they are often mistaken for Indians by Indians so he tries his luck and says to the man in the ticket office "one westerner and two Indians" and he gets two tickets half price!!



The excavated structure is fascinating and the monument build over the place where the sermon was delivered is mammoth. It is fully enclosed as the space was seen as so sacred that no person should ever tread upon it. We spend an hour or so here whilst our rickshaw driver (Mayurs cousin, supposedly) waits outside. I say supposedly because Mayur claims to be related to so many people that he is either embellishing the truth or he is actually related to all of India.



There are Hindi couples who sit on benches very close together and holding hands within the Buddhist grounds. This is not allowed outside in the Indian world so they must relish coming here where public displays of affection are not frowned upon. I am asked by several groups of Indian men if they may take a photo with me. At first I say no and they are always very respectful but seem genuinely disappointed so I agree later on and find that they are very happy to have their photo taken with a 'scruffily dressed, unwashed for two days, hairs a complete mess' western girl. Take that one home to show the folks, I don't think?



We make a quick stop at the Japanese temple before stopping in at a restaurant that serves me a can of pineapple juice that is well passed its sell by date and Meti a glass for lemon soda water with some 'free stuff' in it. We each get a bad feeling about the place and decide not to eat here. And so we head to the orphanage via a kite shop where I buy fifty kites for the children including the best type of string for about £12. In india the children (and often the grown ups) play with kites and the idea is to battle the other kites in the sky. You must wrestle your kite against the others by intertwining the strings and eventually the strongest string will cut that of the opposing kite. There are two main types of string, plastic and glass based. The glass based is the strongest and cannot be cut. I bought a whole reel of the glass based string.



While we waited for them to place it on to 25 separate reels, we wandered up the market street even though we were advised not to by our driver as this is not a tourist area. However, we had no problems whatsoever. I find Indian people do not hassle you half as much as the books suggest, not in Varanasi at least. But then I haven't yet been to Agra so I may be speaking too soon? But the people in Varanasi have been kind and helpful and often are just that. Many are just curious and do literally just want to tell you about their lives, their cities and their country. It is the minority who are seeking to scam you out of your money.



At Kutumb Orphanage, the concert was wonderful. The children put on a great show of dancing and singing and here was tabla playing and a traditional hindi devotional song. However, we could not stay long as we had not eaten all day and so we went in search of food. Mehdi and Sahi took me to a place they had discovered the previous night. Just off one of the busiest main market streets in Varanasi was a mini oasis of calm. We walked through a darkened arched alleyway into what felt like another world leaving the carnage of the high street far behind us. They served traditional Indian food as well as stonebaked pizzas and pasta. I opted for Indian and chose the palak paneer, saag zeera and some garlic naan. It was gooooooood! The backdrop of the restaurant was a beautiful Nepalese style temple complete with a dozen or so cows and bulls plus monkeys clambering above.



We rushed back to the hostel to charge Sahi's camera battery before heading to the Puja ceremony. This time I caught the end and so with the two nights viewing I manage to see the whole thing. I stood right in front of the pedestals where the Brahmins stand and was showered with orange carnation petals. We then jumped in a boat and took a short ride to the burning ghats to see the cremation fires from the water. We managed to find our way back to the hostel where there was a traditional concert of music and dance going on in the small reception area. I listened from my room next door. It was beautiful.



Day Six 11/01/12



This morning I woke early to get a morning boat ride with Meti and Sahi at 8am. Having had a pretty poor nights sleep for the past three nights I was somewhat zoned out. We hop aboard our boat with our little skipper called Deepak. He is probably around 15 and small framed yet he is able to row this huge 20ft boat unaided. Unsure of how his English is I mutter "a little man for such a big boat" to which he replies "yes madam but full power, full power, 24hour, no toilet, no shower". We all fall about laughing. He takes us to the burning ghats nearby. No photos are allowed here but we steal one or two of the architecture as it is so beautiful and so very ancient looking. The thick layer of black soot probably adds to this.



The Ganges is beautiful at this time of the morning. It's eerie but incredibly peaceful and calm. Don't get me wrong, it's still as septic and disgusting as any other time but it's incredibly still. There is a heavy mist that has been sitting over Varanasi for as long as I've been here. This is common in winter and is creates a real sense of atmosphere. It's barely possible to see to the other side of the river and row boats appear out of the fog, quietly pass us by and are gone again. I enjoy the moment though seeing people bathe in it, ritually dipping in it, brushing their teeth in it, washing clothes in it, going to the toilet in it all niggles at me in the back of my mind but in this moment I just appreciate that this is every day life for many of these people. We are taking many, many photos between us as this is so far removed from anything we do or see in our neat and tidy, sterile little lives but to these people, this is all normal.



I take a moment to grab a photo of a man washing his laundry in the river and wonder what he is thinking as he looks up at me. At the end of the day, my capturing this scene is akin to someone photographing me putting my dirty clothes into the washing machine at home, which is as uninteresting as life gets.



We are taken to the second burning ghat where they run the cremations using a machine. Deepak enlists Mehdi to help him with the rowing which is fairly disastrous as they are completely out of time but is much to the amusement of Sahi and I. We jump off here and choose to walk back along the ghats. I start speaking to a Swedish guy called Gustav who has been traveling since 2010! He joins us for breakfast and then he is gone. I love this about traveling; the random acquaintances made along the way. No email addresses were exchanged and we didn't get to surnames. We just had breakfast together and then said goodbye.



At breakfast, incidentally, a very large monkey came and sat next to our table, perched upon the railing next to us overlooking the ghats. But the cheeky creature was more interested in peoples breakfast than any views. He quickly realized that we had no food left but soon spotted another poor victim who had two very tasty looking pieces of toast sat at the edge of his table and before he had time to respond or even know what was happening the toast was gone and the monkey was perched high above enjoying someone else's breakfast. It was hilarious. The restaurant owner said that the monkey was the god hanuman who does not steal from women and so this is why he did not take from our table. He failed to notice that we had finished our breakfasts already, which may also have had something to do with it?



After breakfast we headed back to the hostel to get packed up and ready to leave. Along the way we took many pictures of morning life on the ghats. Men being shaven with cut throat razors whilst sat on the floor, three generations of women washing each other in the river, sadhus sitting completely zoned out in tune only with god, a man who is said to be the human form of Ganesh (the elephant god), children selling postcards, men repairing boats with a heavy smell of bitumen hanging in the air. We stopped and chatted to a few people about what they were doing and many were more than happy to speak with us. One man wrapped in rags was perched atop a set of steps, I photographed him which he seemed to enjoy, so much so that he followed us along the banks for a while, not asking for anything, just interested in what we were doing. As we watch life happening in front of us a man approaches carrying a quiver of woodwind instruments. Mehdi stopped him to chat and tried a few out, the seller played and it sounded beautiful, Mehdi played and it sounded like heavy tar. But it gave us a good opportunity to take some great photos.



Back at the hostel I tried to figure out what to do after Agra as Dharamsala is under three feet of snow with no power at the moment. I'm hoping things improve so I can continue on there but need to work on a backup plan. I'm thinking I could head to Rishikesh at the foot of the Himalayas but could also stick with my original plan and go on the Pushkar but getting a train now at such short notice is proving difficult. Let's see what happens...

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