Rishikish, the Beatles and the Kosher Delhi

After Varanasi, I needed to go somewhere more low-key. The place really took a lot out of me. It was where I came up with the wishful thought of being able to "turn off India." Like a little switch inside my wallet that I could just reach into and flick as needed. I imagined the switch could freeze the moment and stop the people tugging at me...silence the horns, motorbikes and rickshaws...and cleanse the air of any fouls smells. Of course, no switch like this existed, so I would brave through it all, continuing to step over cow shit as needed. But I did wise up a little in my planning. With only 8 days left of my trip, taking a 26 hours train ride anywhere sounded slow and completely unappealing. Instead, I booked a $50 ticket on Spicejet (I wish they had a frequent flyer plan- I'd have a nice amount of miles by now) and head to Delhi for a night before my next endeavor. It was the smartest thing I did. But, while the flights are quick and cheap, you actually give up some great things about train and bus travel, especially the conversations with Hindi people that I would never have otherwise. I've had some great long talks with people about everything from cultural differences, to politics, to sex. I talked for hours upon hours in conversations that were really enlightening, hearing about arranged marriages, views on Bush and Iraq, and Indian porn, to name a few.

I decided to setup camp in Delhi and scope out the situation for when I returned. It's a big, loud and fast Indian city, but it's also a lot more cosmopolitan than anywhere else I'd been here. Since I was coming back in a week, I could unload my pack and leave some stuff to pick things up when I return. As a backpacker, you can't buy too many things on your travels, or else you have to carry it on your back the whole time. I was now 6 lbs lighter and refreshed. I even got to a tailor and had some shirts made, coming back in a week to pickup the finished goods (yes, it was cheap, and pretty fun to weed through the silk, linen and cotton selection for my desired masterpieces.)

The next morning I headed to Rishikish, about 6 hours north of Delhi, by train. I had planned to spend a decent amount of time here considering that this was my final stop before heading home. The beautiful town is in the wooded mountains and rises abruptly from the valley floor and the Ganges. It's a religious place, with lots of action on the river. It's also known for the many ashrams offering meditation and yoga. You may recall that the Beatles put Rishikish on the map when all 4 of them came back in the late 60's for a couple of months (Ringo left early, apparently not liking the vegetarian food.) I stayed in a place high in the woods looking down into the valley, similar to what the monkey is looking at above. Speaking of monkeys, one day I was out reading on the long balcony that connected the rooms on my floor, I heard this woman scream from a nearby room, and then something drop and break. I ran over to her room and found her outside the room pointing in. A monkey had come in and was eating some cookies she had, on her bed. Right on her bed!! She was petrified, I thought it was adorable. They had to come up with a stick and shoo it out. There were no cookies left.

Without the monkey around, I'd wake up in the morning, open my door and see this million dollar view:

I ended up having a great time in Rishikish. In between yoga and meditation classes, I hung out with a really fun bunch of people. The group below (and some others not present for the photo) became a core for the week, represented by Swiss, English and Kiwi folks (there are virtually NO Americans traveling in India.) People were all ages, and everybody had different reasons of why they came to Rishikish. It was great. There were 19 year old's girls seamlessly hanging out with 50 year old moms. I fit right in and became comfortable immediately.

It's a very Buddhist community here, as evidenced by this daily service that happens right on the Ganges. It was nice just to sit and listen.

On one afternoon, I went with this guy from New Zealand to the famous Beatles abandoned ashram. What a place. There were like 2000 people here at one time, doing god knows what (some were writing the White Album.) From these photos you can see these pod like shelters that they lived in, stretching as far as the eye can see. It's closed up, but you can bribe the guard 30 cents and he lets you in.



After Rishikish, I took a train back to Delhi for a couple of days there. For the first time in a while, I slept in clean sheets and A/C. It was strange coming into this nice hotel after where I've been for the past 5 weeks. Normally, a nice hotel would elicit pleasurable goosebumps in me, but I felt out of place...as if I was doing something wrong. Gone were the $1.00 meals, in and was the $22 breakfast buffet. I felt sad, and it's as if my journey came to a screeching halt. All these westerners running around complaining about things. OK, I know what you're saying... yes, that might have been me only a few months back. But, I set out on this trip to get out of my comfort zone and see something new. This kind of thing changes you and brings you back to reality. It was so amazing to meet Indians, but also to meet other travelers from all walks of life looking for the same ideals. I've thought a lot about Rachel, my niece while I was here in India. I had imagined traveling with her with the same excitement and wonder in both our eyes. Even though we were 20 years apart, it wouldn't matter. I imagined going to Varanasi with her and being overwhelmed together, then coming back to our hotel and breaking out laughing over something. I really miss her.

OK, I promised not to be all serious in this post, so I'll just end with a few pictures I took here in Delhi. I leave tonite to come home, and I'm a little sad. But I know that this journey has taken me somewhere I needed to go and I feel ready to brave anything. A rude New Yorker? No problem. Throw it at me, and watch how calm I am. At least for a week.

And one last one. Susan had asked for a photo of what the internet places I wrote at looked like. Here's one that was actually cleaner than many of the others, and only a few flies! How about that wallpaper??

Holy Cow

I had heard people talk about. I read the section in the guidebook a couple of times. I spoke to other travelers who had come from there. But nothing prepared me for Varanasi then actually being in Varanasi. As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure I can put it into words. This is the toughest blog I've written, and I've stopped in the middle several times. Someone commented to me that my blogs have gotten more serious as they go on, and I guess this one proves that right. But I promise more anecdotes about dirt, crazy Indians and other fun stuff for the next one.

The enormous Hindu city stretches along the Ganges River. It's a waterfront dominated by long flights of stone "ghats"or steps, where thousands of pilgrims and residents come for their daily rituals. It's also referred to as the city of light, founded by the god Shiva (I finally found one, Angie) and it's one of the oldest cities in the world. Everything happens on the ghats- bathing, praying, singing, and dying. I was swept up in the awe of it, seeing things I've never seen before.

The first thing I was struck by was the amount of people. More people then I've ever seen in one place. There are over 166 million people in the state of Uttar Pradesh where Varanasi is, and it seems like it. Just getting from the train station to the hotel seemed to take an eternity- winding past hundreds of people, cows, rickshaws and cars. You sense this right when you get off the train and look into a sea of Indian's on the other side of the rope, making the scene at JFK international arrivals look like nothin'. It's sensory overload in every possible way (for some reason I thought back on the time I was with Susan on Tottenham Court in London and it was crazy. Now that seems so tame.)

When you finally get toward the ghats it's all tiny alleyways, with cows, goats, and dogs, people , and newly added: monkeys! It's hot, it's crowded, and there is cowshit everywhere. You have to look where you're going, and look down. There are people riding bikes and scooters through the alleys. People are yelling to you buy something from every angle. No 10mg valium available, so I just kept walking, following my guide who was leading me to the hotel. I actually didn't go again for a few hours since I think I was in shock. But nothing really prepared me for what the rest of Varanasi.

I woke up early the next morning at 5am for a boat ride down the Ganges. 5am is the best time to get started as you can see the river come to life in gorgeous amber sunrise light. You get into a boat like the one above and start the ride.

As you ride along, people are singing, bathing, praying, yelling, and hanging out, all in absurd numbers of people. The sounds are incredible, and it's numbing to watch. As you get down towards Dasaswamedh Ghat, things are in full motion. (by the way, I can't pronounce that word, either.)

It's hard to take it all in. People are everywhere. It's seeing something so new and unusual for the first time that you can't look away. It's lovely and incredibly emotional. Then you come to the burning Ghat's and things get evev MORE interesting (if that's possible.) I'm going to show some photos of all this, but if you don't want to see this type of thing I suggest you don't look any further into this post. I'm even hesitating publishing it at all, but this I've thought about it, and this is life here. I only took a few pictures, as I already felt disrespectful taking those. One last thing to say: The reason people want to die at Varanasi is because it can stop reincarnation and you go directly to Nirvana. It's a lifelong dream for the family and the deceased to be laid to rest here.

Manikarnika Ghat is the main burning ghat amid the most holy place for a hindu to be cremated. Dead bodies are handled by outcasts known as Doms , and they are carried through the alleyways of the old city to the Ganges on bamboo stretchers clothed in white cloth. From the above picture, you should see three tiers. If you are of low caste, you get cremated on the bottom by the river. Mid caste in the center, and high caste on the top. The process starts for all in the Ganges where the body is doused in the holy river prior to cremation:

The body is then brought up to to the respectable place and burned with specific wood (sandlewood being the most expensive and mostly unaffordable for all but the rich) that a family has saved for.

Not everyone can get cremated here. Interestingly enough, there are 6 exceptions:

1. A child under 12
2. A woman who is pregnant
3. A holy man
4. An animal
5. A person with Leprosy
6. Snakebite

It's an intense thing to watch. People are not crying. It's all out in the open for anyone to see. I felt ashamed watching at times, but also couldn't look away (this is the way I felt most of the time here, not just at the burning ghats. I mean, should we really be watching people bathe?) This is life on the Ganges. When you hear the multitude of sounds coming from everywhere it's a beautiful chorus of chants and instruments. It's really pretty unforgettable.

Your comments

Hey everyone,

Wanted you all to know that I do receive and read all the comments that you leave here, whether they show up online or not. I think blogger is a little buggy, so not everything posts for some reason, but I do get an email with them even if they don't post. And since I can't respond to those comments, here are just a few reply's before my next post on Varanasi (coming soon...it's intensity is still brewing in my head before I can put it into words.)

In no particular order:

Hannah...yes, I will be at the 70th celebration and we'll have a big photo presentation on the comfy leather couch in the den. We might even let Grandma attend!

Fumiko...you got me. I don't even know what a contaph really is, but i think it's another word for a dome. Have you tried wikipedia? No, I'm not the oldest backpacker. I can put up with it, but thank heavens I've been upgraded on my flight home to help me readjust.

Susan...I will take a picture of the next internet cafe i'm in. Right now, i don't have my camera, but there is an attached pool hall visible through the window. And there is a goat outside in the stairwell.

John T...you would not last 30 seconds in this country. I would do anything for a coach seat to Florida right now.

Jen...you'll be happy to know i'm going to Rishikish next. Don't worry- I have the secret map to the abandoned Ashram the Beatles were at when they were here. I love cardomon, too.

Mike...Thank god you sent the registration to me before I left. I got pulled over in Calcutta and the Indian cop demanded to see my registration. I thought it was odd cause I was on the bus, but hey, stranger things have happened in India!

Tony...tell your kids that if they could smell this place, they might think twice about coming.

Jana...so much to talk about you when I return, but I see why you keep coming back.

Carin...I had a naan tonight that left me speechless. Unlike any other naan i've had before. The saag was pretty mediocre. But that naan...

Keep em' coming!

My pack is my life

I've been officially in backpacker mode since the ride on the bus. Swapping out "moderately" priced hotels for "budget" guest houses, I've been able to meet other people on their own, doing the same thing as myself. The tradeoff of course is the little bit of luxury that would be welcoming, but it's all good.

Udaipur turned out to be one of my favorite places. I'm not sure if it was the city itself (which oddly prompted me to use the word "pretty" numerous times for the first time in a week) or the place I was staying. At the Lal Ghat Guest House (pictured above), I met loads of people traveling on their own, putting my measly 5 weeks to shame. The average backpacker leaves for 6 months, and some are on year 2, never wanting to go back. But the group gathered at Lal Ghat was special. It was comfortable and social, enough so that I didn't even mind my bathroom by the end of 4 days (in fairness, the best shower I've had in India. Hot and powerful.)

I took a day trip with a rickshaw driver I chatted with outside the guest house. Tiger (above left) was about 17 with excellent English. Never went to school at all- learned from talking to the tourists. He took me around in his rickshaw for a few hours to all the sites and waited for me in front, usually napping at the wheel upon my return. He had quite a sound system in his rickshaw and heads turned when we drove down the street. I finally had to tell Tiger "look, all these little gardens are pretty, but can we see something else please?" He then took me here:

This (above) is Ahar, and there are about 250 restored contaphs of the maharajas of Mewar here. Snowy domes built over 350 years ago. I'm not sure if the photo does it justice, but they were pretty cool to see.

The food in the south is a lot different than in the north. Gone are the fresh fish tandooris and abundant use of coconut (sorry gon-zales, i know you're upset) and In is the richer vegetable curry's with cream and butter. Both good, just different. You may think I'm sick of Indian food, but honestly, I really am not. The other day I had some pasta- the first non-Indian thing I've really ate in almost a month. It wasn't that good, and I actually missed the curry's- the bread, the rice, and the vege's. I've stayed completely vegetarian for most of the trip, except for the fish I ate in the south. In Udaipur, I went to a cooking class with 4 other people. Me, 2 Canadians (all above) and a 17 year old kid from Australia who looked like a better looking Yahoo-Serious (who??). The guy who taught it was hilarious and is kind of an institution in Udaipur. We learned chai tea, bread, biryani, and 2 curry's. Then we got to eat it all.

I left Udaipur and headed for another lovely bus ride to a town called Pushkar. The guidebook used words like "magical" and "enchanting." After two days, and countless people harrassing me, I've renamed it Pushy. Ok, the lake is nice, and I like the place I'm staying, but I've never seen more flies in my life. They wont fucking leave me alone. You may be saying, well that must be everywhere in India. True, but this seems worse. It's supposed to be very religious here, so there is no alcohol or eggs or meat (although Yougurt and milk is allowed. huh?) They also close up the town at 10pm and it's silent. I went to eat with a couple of Irish girls the last two nights. One of them was wearing a slightly clad outfit. She was gawked at by everyone, and then a local man came over to her and said "your dress is too short, and you need to cover your shoulders. This is a holy place." A bit defeated, she treated herself to a bhong lassi and everything was fine for all of us (can you tell from the picture?)

The town is full of hippies, evidenced by the Pink Floyd Hotel. Notice their slogan "Wish You Were Here" in the first picture. In the second, notice the children around the dog taking a crap. India is full of shit to photograph, literally. When I was driving through Rajasthan with Angie, she put her iPod on and showed me that she was listening to Dark Side of the Moon. I laughed, and she said something about how it just didn't feel right. Well Angie, if you had come to Pushkar, you would have fit right in.

I took a short trek up one of the mountains to this castle with 360 views of Pushkar and the surrounding desert. It was just about sunset and I was sweating like a lunatic. I got a big cold water and took the shot above and below (same photo, with and without the puppy, which seemed to really like posing!) and one other after these two.

There are two very important things I've learned about Indian Hotels. If they use the word Oasis, it's definitely not. If they use the word Palace, it's either too expensive or a shithole. My point is evidenced by the photos here of the Oasis Hotel and Pushkar Palace.

Today I leave Pushkar for the long overnight journey (by train, thank god) to a town called Varanasi. I hear it's pretty intense. This is the last of the desert shot before I head inland and to the mountains. Namaste.

The Bus

"Take the government bus" he said. "The government bus? What about the private bus? The one with reclining seats and a/c?" I replied. "The government bus to Udaipur is just as good."

This was the conversation I had last night with the guy from my hotel in Jodhpur. I mean, I assumed he should have the experience from being at the hotel and talking to people all these years about such things. The sign above the reception desk said "bus, train and plane tickets here." The guide book didn't say too much, so I needed some help. He said neither buses had a/c, and the government bus was just as good. I said "can you check on the times of the private bus please?" "Ok" he said, and proceeded to make some calls. A few minutes later he tells me "The private bus from Jodhpur to Udaipur is at 7am and 3pm. It's 160 rupees ($3.50)." I said "How much is the government bus?" He said "140 rp." "7:30am?" I replied, "ok, can you get me a ticket on the 7:30am private bus, please?" He tells me "Ok, I'll have it for you in hour." Great.

A couple hours later I come back to the hotel at about 10:30. Everyone who works there is asleep (meaning the whole family and then some.) I try to find the guy, but can't. I wake what appears to be the grandfather, who only speaks Hindi. "Bus ticket" I say. "I need my bus ticket for tomorrow." Another guy finally comes out and tells me the usual Indian line "don't worry." Yeah, don't worry. I tell him "my bus is early, when is the ticket going to be here?" He says, "come here at 6:45 and I'll have it. Don't worry."

I'm worrying. I wake up at 6am, shower, pack my pack, and look for someone to give me the ticket. No one is awake. The entire family is asleep in various places throughout the hotel- the roof, the stairs, the hallway. I finally find the guy and he tells me "the bus is full. No ticket." I'm tired and confusion sets in so I say "No ticket? I'm already up? Why didn't you tell me last night?" He says "You were sleeping."

"So what should I do?" I say. He says "there is a government bus at 11." I ask "what time will I get there?" "3 or 4." I sigh, and try to go back to sleep.

I wake u again, eat something, and grab a rickshaw over to the government bus station at about 10:10 for the 11am bus. Of course, there is no 11am bus. There's a noon bus. But there's also one at 10:30, so I scramble and get the ticket and run to the bus I think is mine. "Udaipur?" I say to anyone who will listen. I think it's the right bus. I get on, and you'd think I was dressed like the burger king or something. EVERYBODY looks at me while I head to the back with my head down. They're all Indian, and there I am with my backpack on the shittiest bus you've ever seen. I sit down in an aisle seat (just in case they mistake me for Kate Blanchett in the window, and realize that this is going to be a long 6 or 7 hours.

My godmother Barbara is hilarious. She always tells us some great stories. One that I'll never forget is the valium tale, which I"ve thought of many times on this trip. She was in China, it was hot and miserable, and she was getting bitten up by mosquitos. It was horrible. All us kids are gathered around while she recites the story to us, holding in bated breath for the details. "What did you do???" we all asked. "What did I do? I took a 10mg valium and forgot about everything."

A valium would have been nice, but no avail. It's a good thing, because although it was a pretty hellish bus ride, it was fascinating. Indians really want to talk to me. They're intrigued. But the problem is that many of em don't speak English, so they just get close to you, stare, and ask you "where from?" That's about as far as most conversations get. Of course, when this happens, and a conversation is started, everybody leans in to hear the details. It's as if I have the answer to the science test or something. It's quite entertaining, really.

All was fine on the bus, until about 6 hours in. We're going up this mountain and all of a sudden there is this burst in the engine. The bus stops, and we sit on the side of this mountain for the next 2 hours while the driver tries to repair it. I have no idea what's going on, so I finally ask this one guy if he speaks English. He happens to be a tour guide in Udaipur. Yes! We talk for a couple of hours, and he's awesome. He tells me that they can't fix the engine cause they don't have a knife. I pull out my swiss army knife, and 10 mins later we're on our way. Lee Kline has just saved the day for 50 Indians.

The bus finally gets going again, and we all get back on. Nobody is looking at me too much anymore, and I think they agree that I'm ok in their book. 15 mins later, the bus stops again and everyone starts getting off the bus on the side of the mountain. My guide had hitched a ride and abandoned me, so I'm on my own. I follow everyone as they're getting off and onto another bus, apparently a replacement. I'm the last one on and spend the next 2 hours in the stairwell at the front. Again, with a packed bus, I'm the star attraction. An old man with a long beard who's smoking something odd gestures for to come up front and sit near him and the driver. There's a bit of an opening for me. I oblige, and now get to sit. But it's frightning up front watching the bus driver pass people and honk constantly. I'm starting to loose my sense of humor since it's been about 10 hours. When the fuck are we getting to Udaipur?? How much longer can it be? Ok, Lee, calm down. Where do you have to go anyway? I calm down and and relax when we finally pull over a hill and this view of Udaipur comes into view:

I took my camera out and tried to take a picture, but it wasn't working. So the bus driver sees this and actually stops the bus so I can get a good shot! Yeah, he stops the bus with 100 people on it just so I can get a shot. I lean out the window, point and shoot and duck back in. A man says to me "you get good?" I say "yeah, i got good."

The Solo Traveler

I just wrote this whole blog, and then my screen went dead, so I'm gonna try this one more time. The last version was probably a lot more enthusiastic, but I only have a short time before this place closes, so here goes.

This is Jodhpur, the blue city. This was taken from atop the fort that's high above the town. I like this city. It's a little calmer and more manageable then the other cities I've been to (which isn't saying much for India, but every bit helps.)

In Jodhpur there is a guy who has a stand that only makes Omelettes. He goes through over 1500 eggs a day! His specialty is this one with saffron, cardomon, and red chilis. It was delicious.

Also here is a special lassi drink they make. This one has Shayne's name all over it. Yogurt, saffron, cardomon and a big wad of whipped butter on the top! I felt my arteries closing as it went down.

We left Jodhpur for Jaisalmer. This is all the way east in the dessert, and about 50km from Pakistan. Angie and I went on a camal ride in the sunset through the dunes, which was pretty nice. The kid who took us was like 15, and would make the camel fart. Since I was riding behind, it wasn't so funny.

A little shopping, and an overwhelmed Angie in the blanket store. You can see her head spinning from trying to make a decision.

Cows are everywhere here. They're all over the street, just wondering through traffic and sitting in medians. This one pulled up to the local stand for something to eat. People don't even seem to notice them.
I took this from our hotel in Jaisalmer. This is the fort, which looks like an oasis when you arrive to it after driving hours through nothing in the desert. It's a great little city, and I see why people like it so much.

We stayed in this 300 year old haveli that was pretty cool, especially after staying in some pretty scary places. This is where I coined the phrase

"There's clean, and then there's Indian clean. Two completely different meanings of the word"

This place was definitely Indian clean, but I'll take it.

Angie left today, and I am officially a solo traveler. I head to Udapur tomorrow, and hit the road with all the backpackers. More to come soon.

(by the way, the last version of this posting was a lot more inspired. Kim, why isn't there a damn command-Z on a PC???)

The Spell

Angie told me that Bill Clinton says there are 2 kinds of people in the world. Those who have seen the Taj Mahal, and those who haven't. That really says it all. It's like nothing I've ever encountered. Something about the shape and the color, and the way the light just hits it. Amazing. Keith had asked for a few pics of it, so here's another one.

Today I really felt like I was in India. All the talk about filth and the negatives gave way to feeling comfortable here. We arrived in Rajasthan yesterday, which is a state mostly in the desert. it's enormous and there is tons to see. In Jodhpur, it all came together. Millions of people everywhere, cows and goats and dogs on the street, the overwhelming feeling you're soimewhere you've never been before. The market was full of activity- people selling everything, and colors that were out of control. It wasn't stressful, it was exciting. I finally got it.

We stayed in Jaipur yesterday at a guest house run by this awesome couple. The man, who went be "the Colonel" was a really interesting guy.

I mean, look at him! I went in last night to ask to use his computer. We started talking and ended up chatting for 2 hours (I never even got to go online!) One of the stories he told me was really enlightning. He said there was a guy that started staying with him almost every year about 10 years ago. All his friends always ask him why he always wants to go to India. They say it's dirty, it's crowded, it's hot, there are mosquitos. All the same things people said to me! But these people have never been here! What they all don't see is the good stuff- the genuineness of the people, the honesty, the respect for one another, the colors, the food. I think I totally get it now.

Ok, so it's dirty. And it's crazy. And it's chaotic. True. And nothing better makes this point then this picture:

What do you do when you're looking for something with a sign like this?

Today when we were driving, we saw this truck full of people in the back:

But look closer at the picture below. We were shocked to see filmmaker Al Maysles with the group!

And here's one more, just cause I like the picture.

Thanks to everyone for writing to me on the blog. It's really cool to hear from you all. When Angie leaves on Saturday I've got almost 3 weeks by myself. Keep em coming.