First day in Varanasi: stench levels up to eleven

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Waking up this morning in the comfy bed of the Valentines Hotel in Allahabad, I didn’t want to leave. I had slept like a baby after power cuts had threatened my cricket and room service evening. The idea of taking a sleeper class train did not appeal to me. At all.

The Bundelkhand Express was late, as usual. I managed to find my seat and put myself in a cozy position with my feet dangling over the other passengers’ heads as they walked by. I twisted and turned for 4 hours before we reached Varanasi. I had booked a driver to come and get me at the station and lead me to the hotel. I didn’t want to face the famously sinuous streets of Old Town Varanasi without knowing where exactly I was going. It was a good idea. You do not want to get lost in the labyrinthine back alleys of the Old Town. The floor was a soil formed from layers of trash, cow dung and spit and the occasional urine flowed across the paths through blackish yellow valleys. It was a succession of silk shops, food stalls, junk vendors, temples and restaurants until we had the hotel in sight. But our progress was jeopardized by a herd of cows slowing down traffic. A persistent sadhu kept banging on the cows’ butts to make them move but they were determined to take their time.

At the hotel: bad surprise. My room wasn’t ready. In fact, it will never be ready. The Ganges’ level has risen with the rains and the room was flooded. I was assigned a cheaper room with a shared bathroom, the only one available left. The get to the bathroom, I need to walk through the courtyard that has the restaurant and is the de facto hang out area of the hotel. Not exactly premium privacy. I’m not looking forward to my shower later.

My first glance at the Ganges was peaceful. From the hotel, you can see it gently strolling down, a few boats in the distance fighting the current the best they can. I was expecting to see some dead bodies in the water but I was surprised to see some life. In the distance, I saw a fish of some sort jumping above the surface, maybe it was one of those endangered Ganges dolphins, but that’s probably wishful thinking… The Ganges itslef is probably the dirtiest-looking water you'll ever see in your life, it actually caught fire at one point from a candle on a paper boat. The water can literally burn here. I wouldn't light a match in some of these smelly alleys either...

I snacked on some vegetarian pakoras with Limca, a local soda, and decided to leave my bags in my room and just explore a bit around the hotel. Since the ghats are covered with the overflowing Ganges, I need to go through the alleys to go from one ghat to the next. Thankfully I brought my compass to make sure of where I am (the Ganges is always to the East…).

I was expecting a lot of touts but it’s pretty reasonable. But here the services advertised are different:
- You want boat? No
- You want rickshaw? No
- You want hashish? No
Little girls are used to sell postcards through some kind of “Aww” factor and sadhus know who to target to put powder on the forehead. Varanasi is predictably a very touristy place and my hotel is 90% full of foreigners (lots of Chinese people). In the courtyard, I got to realize that I can take any smell that comes to my nostrils but cigarette smoke is definitely the worst.

I looked for the Brown Bread Bakery for some solace as it was supposed to be a very clean and welcoming place for tourists away from the hustle and bustle of the streets. Once inside, I was transported into a hippie El Dorado. Cushions on the floor, sitar and drums from the stereo, brightly colored tapestries on the wall and dim lighting for extra coziness. One French guy to my left was the clichéd hippie: barefoot ,touring the country for months, talking to strangers about Nepal, “What I love about this place is the people”. He also proceeded to roll a joint with “good stuff” on the table of some girls from England, who seemed more uncomfortable than interested by his adventures. One woman in a corner seemed to be meditating. I ordered some apple strudel with vanilla ice cream (it was a German bakery) and a lukewarm banana lassi. I headed back to the hotel to chill out and get myself together before the big evening ceremony…

At the Dasashwamedh every evening, there’s a ceremony called the Ganga aarti, which is basically a prayer to the Ganges. It’s a very casual thing to do for Hindus but because this is Varanasi, it’s particularly important. People from all over have gathered around a bunch of priests waiting for 7PM to start the festivities. There are people on walls, roof tops, crowded boats and looking out from windows. We could have been about 8,000 people crammed in there. Some guy, named Sarank stood next to me. “Do you mind if I talk with you?” Here we go. We talked about Native Americans and why he shouldn’t call them “Red Indians” and he told me his hobby was to speak to foreigners. In fact, he ended up chatting with about ten foreigners in my immediate area. He was also very amused with my pronunciation of “Bundelkhand”. I was polite and didn’t say anything about his English…

The ceremony itself is a very spiritual occasion but nothing much happens. Priests were holding fire in various recipients while dancing a kind of Macarena to the sound of drums and chanting. People chanted along and clapped their hands. The heat was unbearable as I could feel my arms literally burning. And it was night time! I decided to cut short the ceremony like most of the crowd and headed back up the ghat. The crowd was very dense and I couldn’t work myself a way through it until a cow came out of nowhere and pushed people out of its way. Sadhus would pray at it, bystanders would be startled to see it and police officers were amused to see it push through the metal detectors. I used it as my personal icebreaker and followed it. Not too close though as it’s always a good idea to keep a healthy distance from a cow’s derriere. On my way back, I had fun playing hide and seek with goats, cows and the occasional stray puppy but I spent the most time watching a bunch of kids packed around a TV set playing what seemed to be a classic Nintendo video game. They were so captivated that they didn’t even notice me.

I plan on spending the evening at the hotel: shower, soda, maybe some food and a bit of reading. I’m getting up early tomorrow to try to get a boat to see the ghats in the morning sunlight.

Daily nugget: Walking back to the hotel, I’m stopped on my track by a bunch of ten-year-olds holding me back. “Bomb”. “There’s a bomb?” and then the loudest firecracker exploded near a pool of mud leaving more smoke in the air than the incense from the aarti. My hearing’s back, now.

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