Live from Fort Kochi India...it's Becca's Blog!

Okay, before I move on to our next location I have a few more pictures of Jaipur and Agra that I forgot to post.  So, here you go...

Antique drink anyone?  Sounds kinda sketchy.    

Just a cute little lady outside the Taj Mahal who wanted me to take her picture...so I did.  

And then I thought, "hey, she's a cute little lady...I should get a picture with her too."  By the time I handed my camera to Marissa to take the picture a crowd had gathered.  So a few of them joined the picture too.  No wonder everyone stares at me...I look like a giant, white, marshmallow monster compared to those women.  I'm a freak show in India.  

Marissa and I on a pimped out rickshaw in Agra.  

Me at the roasting hot Red Fort in Agra

Marissa and I at the Red Fort in Agra

The above pictures show just a few of the many modes of transport in India, with Agra's Red Fort in the background.  Horse carts, buses, auto-rickshaws and motorbikes are just a few of the more normal forms of Indian transport.  

Me in front of the Red Fort in Agra 

Me in the Taj Mahal's backyard.  You drive through a kinda slummy neighborhood and end up behind the Taj Mahal.  So the people who live in that area have a pretty sweet view, even if the rest of their life sucks.  I think during the monsoon season the dirt behind would instead be a river.  And, just off to my left (you can't see it in the picture) I'm pretty sure there was some sort of a Taliban training camp...there were just lots of men sitting around wearing turbans with lots of really big scarry guns leaned up against the tree and fence.  It was weird.  But I was packing mace...so I wasn't scared.

Anyway, now that I'm done with Jaipur and Agra...we'll move on to Varanasi.  After a really long and confusing (since nobody on the train, including the train employees seemed to know when our stop would be) night train from Agra, we arrived in Varanasi.  

Varanasi is a super old and holy city on the banks of the River Ganges...or the Ganga, as the locals like to call it.  It is a sacred city for Buddhists, Jains, and Hindus, but is super duper sacred to Hindus.  Because supposedly one of their Gods, Lord Shiva, founded the city 5000 years ago.  But, Wikipedia says it was only founded 3000 years ago...either way, it's one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world.  

Varanasi is holy to the Hindus and the Ganga River is the holiest place in Varanasi...so the Ganges is super holy...is actually considered to be a Goddess to the Hindus.  

Hindu pilgrims come from all over the world to bathe in the Ganges, to drink the water from the Ganges, to swim in it, to burn and scatter the ashes of their dead, etc., etc.  

India is definitely a land of contrasts and nowhere was that contrast so evident to me as it was in Varanasi...especially along the Ganga.  Within a short stretch of the river I saw marriages taking place, the washing of the dead, the cremation of the dead and scattering of ashes, people going to the bathroom...except not in a bathroom (#1 and #2! Yikes!), kids swimming with floaty arms on, people doing laundry, people eating lunch, people brushing their teeth with the river water, people laughing, people praying, rich Indian movie stars being escorted by tons of security guards, kids playing cricket, little entrepreneurial children making their way in the world by selling water and souvenirs to the tourists and pilgrims, beggars, holy men, crazy men who may have also been holy men, etc, etc.  I think the pictures will explain better than I could with words, but the bank of the Ganges River in Varanasi is definitely one of the most interesting places I've ever been to.  

The Ganges is one of the five most polluted rivers in the world...which is no surprise, given the activities listed above, as well as the fact that each day raw sewage and industrial waste from Varanasi (and probably every other city along it's banks) are pumped into the river.  It's a public health disaster...but somehow, miraculously, the Hindu pilgrims who come to bathe in the river, and the little Muslim kids who take swimming lessons there don't dissolve right into the water.  

So...after that long explanation...we'll head to Varanasi.  


After the long train ride we arrived at the Mughal Sarai Junction train station, just outside of Varanasi.  Our train was over two hours late, so we were glad to see that our driver, Sandeep, was still there to pick us up.  

And, not only was there someone to pick us up, but we got to travel in style in this classy Hindustan Ambassador.  It's hard to tell how old the car was because apparently they haven't changed much in the design of this car since 1948 or something.  A lot of the taxis here in India are Ambassadors.  I guess they're supposed to be pretty classy cars.  

Our driver was a funny guy.  When we first got into the car at the train station he said, "I need 40 Rupees (about one dollar) for parking."  And then Marissa said, "that's supposed to already be included in the price for pickup."  And Sandeep just shrugged his shoulders and said, "yeah, it is included," and paid the parking himself.  We caught him another time trying to cheat us and he just fessed right up and kind of acted bummed that we'd caught him.  It was quite funny really.  

Tons of the men in India chew a thing called Paan, which I believe is made of Betel Nuts or the Betel Nut leaves or something.  Anyway, it's like chewing tobacco, but it's red.  So you'll see men spitting red stuff all over the place.  I honestly have no idea how the population of India got so large, with all the men chewing and spitting that stuff all the time.  I just can't imagine why any of the women would want to get close enough to any of them to reproduce with them.  Anyway, our driver Sandeep was a Paan chewer.  And it was so funny because he'd fill his mouth with the stuff and then try to talk to us and explain the different locations we visited.  He sounded so ridiculous and I couldn't stop laughing at him.  I don't know if he ever knew why we found him to be so funny. 

Anyway, Sandeep took us on a little city trip around Varanasi.  Here Marissa and I are in front of a super duper old Hindu temple.  I don't remember the name of it, or I didn't understand the name of it through Sandeep's Paan chewing, but it was a cool temple anyway.  

And then Sandeep took us to the Muslim quarter of the city to see the silks and muslins being woven.  Those of you who have travelled anywhere in Asia will know that when they take you to a "factory" whether it be a silk, pearl, jade, rug, cashew, or etc. factory, really they are just going to give you a like two second demonstration and then spend two hours trying to sell you stuff.  All of Asia is bad for this, but India might be the worst.  Because the drivers and tour guides get a commission on anything you buy.  The nice thing about Indians though is that if you call them out on something or you just tell them or tell them very directly that you want to leave, they will listen to you.  We've learned to have to be very direct.  

Anyway, even though we knew we were being taken to more of a store than a "factory" we still let Sandeep take us to see the silk and muslin fabrics being made.  I think we were just hot and thought we'd rather be inside than outside for a bit.  So we went.  

Here is a man at the "factory" making some sort of fabric.  After I saw him I thought, "I'm not buying any fabric from these people...that factory worker looks like he hasn't had a decent meal since 2006 and maybe hasn't seen sunlight since then either."  If they want people to buy their stuff they at least need to fatten up their workers a little and at least pretend that their things aren't made with slave labor.  Even though the cute little factory worker/slave had a smile on his face, it still will make me think twice about buying stuff here or buying imported things in America.  It's so sad.  But I love Indian and Chinese imports...they're so cheap.  Dang.  

Anyway, enough about that.  Here are some pictures of Varanasi and of the ghats along the Ganges.  

Varanasi is a crazy city with no sidewalks (as is the case in most of India).  Pedestrians, cars, rickshaws, auto-rickshaws, bicycles, wandering cows, and carts crowd the streets and somehow maneuver around each other in an almost miraculous way.  

In India's caste system, the "untouchables" are the lowest of the low.  But I think that actually pedestrians are lower than even the untouchables.  Walking down the streets of Varanasi felt like one big game of chicken...with me being the smaller chicken in most cases.  

The power goes out all of the time in Varanasi.  So most of the businesses and hotels have diesel generators they use to keep things going.  This, as well as the auto-rickshaws, and poorly maintained automobiles, causes a lot of pollution.  At first I was just holding a handkerchief over my face when we were down in the thick of it in the middle of the city.  But I got tired of trying to hang onto my bag, camera, and the handkerchief.  So I decided to go bandit style instead and free up my hands.  It was a great idea.  

Me at one of the ghats of the Ganges with a girl who asked for a picture with me and some sort of a holy dude in the background.  

Since the Ganges River is considered to be a Goddess to Hindus, and that Goddess came from heaven to earth, she is also the means by which Hindus believe you go back from earth to heaven.  So any Hindu who can will bring their dead or dying loved ones to Varanasi (or other less holy cities along the Ganges) to be washed one last time in the river, burned on its banks, and then have their ashes scattered back into the river.  

We watched as family members (usually just the men) brought the bodies down to the water, covered by only by a thin sheet, dipped the bodies in the river (I think three times), and in some cases left the body soaking in the river.  Meanwhile the crematorium workers are stoking the fire.  If you're rich you burn the body with a sweet smelling sandalwood to cover up the burning body smell...if you're not rich you use other woods or just sink the body.  In the water just below the cremation site we saw two men standing in the water panning for gold...perhaps gold jewelry left on the bodies or maybe gold from teeth fillings.  Either way I thought it wasn't too classy to be panning for gold right in sight of the Indian families grieving their dead...but whatever...I guess it's just life in India...you survive however you can.  

If their family can't get them to the Ganges to be cremated they will often just cremate the family member and then bring their ashes to the Ganges later.

Certain people however, aren't cremated, but are instead taken to the middle of the river, tied to a rock, and are thrown in.  I'm not sure exactly which people these are, but I've heard that they are the holy men, lepers, children under two years, pregnant women, and the people of the "untouchable" caste.  

So you can add rotting bodies to the list of reasons the Ganges is so polluted.  

We watched the cremations a couple of times...once from a boat and another time from the banks.  The night we were watching the cremations from the river bank a huge windstorm came up and blew ash all over us.  The power went out and we had to duck into a silk shop for refuge (which is why I am now the proud owner of two silk scarves I didn't want).  It was kind of a crazy night.  The wind and rain stopped so we went back out, but as we were walking an electrical transformer blew up right in front of us so we thought we'd better get the heck back to our hotel...and so we did.  Anyway, we got to experience the cremations very closely as we ended up wearing quite a bit of ash home in our hair and on our clothes.  We definitely immersed ourselves in the culture that night.     

The beautiful night scene along the Ganges.  We took a boat out at night to watch a Hindu ceremony that is held each night.  We were visiting while the big pilgrimage of people from the south of India was taking place.  So it was us out on the boat, surrounded by hundreds or maybe even thousands of pilgrims packed into other boats.  The southern pilgrims were very friendly and kept waving to us and taking pictures of us.  By the end of this trip there will be thousands of sweaty pictures of me scattered all across India.  Maybe I'll make myself a t-shirt that says "I'm famous in India" or something...because apparently I am.  

Me in one of Varanasi's small side streets.  You come across some interesting smells in India...especially on the side streets...hence the handkerchief.  

Sandeep talked us into trying Lassi from a street vendor.  I'd had lassi before (a yogurt drink mixed with spices or fruit) but Sandeep said that we had to try this particular lassi.  Probably not the best idea ever to eat milk products from a street vendor, but oh well.  And the good news is that although it did make my tummy feel a little funky, it didn't kill me or even make me too sick.  And sometimes you just have to try food from street vendors...it's just the best of the best sometimes.  

Our little lassi vendor sitting in his stand  

A bunch of boats docked at the Ganga

Me at the main ghat.  I think "ghat" means stairs or something.  Anyway there are all these different sets of stairs that go down to the water and they call them ghats.  And the ghats are where it's at...all the interesting stuff happens down at the ghats.  

A cute little entrepreneur at one of the ghats...they sell the little flowers in cups made of leaves with a candle inside.  Then you light the candle and put the little leaf bowl into the Ganges.  I think it's how the Hindus make offering to the Goddess Ganges or something.  

Kids playing cricket at the main ghat

Holy man or crazy man...I'm not sure.  It's a pretty blurry line between the two. 

From the boat looking towards the ghats

The Ganges Swimming Club...and I thought the Idaho Falls Aquatic Center was disgusting! 

Kids splashing around at the swimming club.  Look closely and you'll see the yellow and orange floaty arms.  Crazy!

Marissa and I watched as this little herd of cows exited the Ganges.  We were like "siiiiiiiick" as one of them diarrhea-ed into the water.  And then I remembered the many summer days I spent floating the canal near my home in Idaho as a kid.  And then I thought..."I swam with cow poo too...and it didn't kill me...it only made me stronger."  So, I guess all those kids at the swimming club might just be okay...although the Ganges does have way bigger problems than the cows.  

A pilgrim woman in front of one of the little street shops near the Ganges.  The pilgrims often shave their heads while in Varanasi...I think it's something to do with making an offering to the Ganges of their hair or something.  

Marissa and I met these pilgrim girls at the main ghat.  We visited with them for a few minutes and then said our goodbyes.  We started heading up the steps when one of them ran back and said, "wait here five minutes please."  So we waited for a few minutes and soon the girls returned...this time with a man who had a camera.  They asked if they could take a picture with me.  So, we did.  I didn't think anything of it.  The man, who I assumed was their dad, took the picture, and we said goodbye and went on our way.  

A few minutes later the girls caught up with us and showed us the printed picture.  Apparently the man who took our photo was a photographer who works at the ghats charging pilgrims to take and print pictures of their pilgrimage to the Ganga.  He had a little photo printer set up on one of the stairs of the ghats.  The girls asked if I would autograph the picture, and so I did.  It is still so funny to me that these girls wanted my picture and autograph.  I really don't know why...they must think I was somebody important.  

The whole picture taking thing is interesting.  One of the first times someone asked us if they could take a picture of his son with us we refused because we couldn't understand him and we thought he was trying to sell us something (because usually people are).  We felt bad later as we got asked more and more for pictures...especially parents wanting their children to be in a picture with us...and we realized looking back that all the poor man wanted was one picture of his little boy with some white girls.  It's funny too because sometimes the people want us to take a picture of us with them but they don't even have a camera.  So we take it on our cameras and show them the picture on the screen.  

Another thing that is interesting is that sometimes people come right up to Marissa, ask her for a picture, and completely ignore me...and then sometimes they come up to me, ask me for a picture, and completely ignore her.  It happens pretty much equally for both of us...so it must just be a matter of personal preference.  And quite often they want pictures with both of us.  Anyway, the whole being popular in India is an interesting phenomenon.  I can't tell you how many times in the past few weeks we've had someone come up to us and say..."One picture?"  And I still don't really understand why they want it.  

They've taken some serious security measures at the main ghat by installing these metal detectors.  I'm not quite sure why as there's a space equal to the size of the metal detectors on the right side that's completely open.  And...there's nobody watching the metal detectors.  So I guess you'd only catch an honest or incredibly stupid terrorist using the above method.  

A pilgrim getting their head shaved 

A little bakery...and the baker must have been tired.  You can see him asleep in one of the huge mixing bowls in the back.  Dang those early mornings! 

A cute little pilgrim lady with her free lunch provided by the pilgrims by locals for the purpose of "good karma" we were told.  

This man signed to me (since he didn't speak English) that he wanted me to take a picture of he and his daughter...so I did.  I love that everyone wants you to take their picture...you don't even have to be sneaky!

Me in Varanasi

I would like to title this picture, "Take Me To McDonald's!"  The night after we drank the street lassi Marissa and I were just feeling a little funky in the tummy...so we flagged down a bicycle rickshaw and asked him to take us to a Domino's Pizza that we'd seen nearby.  We just wanted to eat something familiar and non-spicy.  He didn't know where the Domino's was, but it was right by a McDonald's...so we asked him to take us to McDonald's.  And as soon as we got in the rickshaw and this little man with probably an 18 inch waist started pulling us to McDonald's we just felt like horrible American pigs.  So since then every time we get in a bicycle rickshaw I pretend to crack a whip and say, "Take me to McDonald's" to Marissa.  Kinda sad but kinda funny too.  And don't worry, we paid the man well.  And, at least there were only two of us...the Indian families like to pack on three or four people.  

Me in front of some big Hindu temple in Varanasi.  We've been to a lot of Hindu temples...some days I am completely templed out.  I just don't feel like taking off my shoes, walking around barefoot on a dirty (and usually hot) floor, and spending the entire time inside wondering if I'll ever see my shoes again.  

A holy man/potential crazy man at one of the ghats

People putting candles and flowers into the Ganges as an offering

A smart businessman who found a niche in the market.  He's selling his wares to the pilgrims and tourists by pulling up to their boats.

From one of the ghats looking down at the Ganges

Pilgrims talking to or getting blessed by some sort of holy man

Some little sort of ceremony along the Ganges...maybe praying for the missing man on the poster...I don't know.

A man doing laundry in the Ganges...seriously how clean can you possibly get clothes washed in Ganges water to be?

More laundry

A little boy just chillaxin at one of the ghats.  That's how he was holding his arms...even before I pulled out the camera.  

Lunchtime at the Ganges

Some pilgrim women who wanted their picture taken...

and then this guy showed up and posed too.  

A couple waiting to be married

Another wedding day couple.  Don't they look happy?  They even asked me for a picture and this was the look they gave me.  I'm not sure I see a Golden Wedding Anniversary in their future.

Don't be alarmed by the swastika painted on the baby's head in this picture...it's not a neo-Nazi gathering.  The swastika is a sacred Hindu sign representing the sun...which gives life to all...or something like that.  

Another holy man/crazy man at a Ganges ghat

Anyway, after our three day stay in Varanasi we were definitely ready to go. It was a really fascinating place.  It was like India in raw form...so interesting and yet a bit overwhelming.  

So we headed to the rat infested train station of Varanasi.  Even with the rats running around the platform and down in the tracks, the Varanasi train station seemed much better than Agra's train station...it could have also been that we were better prepared mentally.  We had to wait an extra two hours for our late train...two hours normally is nothing...but in a train station in India it can seem like an eternity.  

The "cattle car" train cars, as I like to call them.  As a "rich American" I can afford the 15 or 20 dollar ride in an air-conditioned sleeper car.  But if you are a poor Indian, a long ride in a train can be complete torture...especially since the lower class cars are nearly always over booked.  I've heard stories of people sleeping on the bathroom floors.  It made me so sad to see these people loaded on their train.  But, I guess they're probably used to it...maybe, and hopefully, it's not as horrible to them as it seems to me.  

A hot and sweaty me waiting with our hippy-type Canadian friend, Jon, who by the way, kept getting asked if he was Jon Voight from the movie Anaconda, since it had just been getting played on Indian television.  So funny! And so sad that they show horrible American movies like Anaconda in other countries. How embarrassing for our country.  I went to see Anaconda on a date in high school...it was one of the longest dates of my life (because of the movie and not because of who I was with).  

We got on the train.  This one was worse than the train from Agra to Varanasi.  There were even cockroaches (small ones luckily) crawling out of the walls of the train.  We watched an Indian woman and her son smack away at their dinner and then I took a NyQuil and said, "see ya next Thursday" to Marissa.  

Anyway, once your train is late, it loses its priority on the tracks...so it just gets later and later.  So what I think was supposed to be a 12 hour train ride turned into a 16 hour one (not including the two extra hours we spent waiting at the station).  And then when we arrived in Delhi our driver wasn't there, since we were so late.  We had to call him and wait for him to come get us.  So, by the time we got to our hotel, Marissa and I calculated that neither of us had been to the bathroom for over 18 hours.  Thank heavens for an amazing bladder and excellent willpower.  They do have bathrooms on the train, but given the condition of European train bathrooms, I didn't even want to bother look at an Indian train bathroom.  I guess I should have though...even just for some good blog material.  Maybe I will on our next train...wish me luck!