Visit to Rishikesh was a little bit longer than we initially expected due to the availability of train tickets, but we managed to keep busy with little effort. We decided to take a hike to the nearbye waterfall up the hill behind our hotel and through a local village. I’m not sure what the name of the river is that we followed (or more of a stream really) (or the village either) but we were never positive we actually found either. Instructions from the hotel guys were that it was 20 minutes up the path, however after going twice that distance it was still nowhere to be seen. We found a spider infested and relatively inaccessable access to the river (once we were certain that we had travelled far enough away from the village so as not to be poisoned by all their unpleasant things discharged into the water) and we took a dip. The water was great and within moments we were splashing around like schoolboys.
The next day found us on a 1 hour ride southeast to Hardiwar where we were to board our train for Varanasi. In probably one of the strangest coincidences of the
Spider
Jord gets all the credit for this one. On our little river trip he found it, freaked out about it a...
trip (or some kind of prank that Jord still hasn’t admitted to) Jord randomly bumped into Sesha in the lobby outside our restaurant (and Sesha’s hotel). We had planned to eat a meal here before getting on our train and Sesha had planned a trip up to the Delhi area sometime ago to visit many of the various holy sites. For those of you who don’t know who Sesha is, I worked with him at Selkirk/Thomson for almost 2 years before me leaving on the trip and him returning to India to raise his daughters. In a country with well over a billion people and thousand(s) of kilometers away from where he lives in Chinai (sp?) it was a staggering coincidence indeed. However surprising, we enjoyed a meal and catching up before having to dart for our 18 hour train ride onward.
The train to Varanasi was much like most of the other trains we’ve rode here: long, boring and overloaded with people. While we never cease to attract attention, this might have been some kind of record as through some means that’s still unkown to me, 17 Indian youths crammed into our compartment to get a look at
Produce Man
Even though the produce clerks at home never acknowledge my produce shots, I still take them constan...
us, shake our hands, listen to my iPod and murmer in disbelief at the concept that I, Jason from Canada, am unmarried (all the while causing a general stir).
We finally arrived in Varanasi hours late and tired as hell. The train station, like any train station in India is in a state of complete and utter madness (even that is an understatement). It’s slowly but surely been sinking in lately just what it means to exist in a country with so many people and little or no services to speak of whatsoever. People vomiting, urinating and shitting in open areas of the train stations is perfectly normal. Walls plastered in bodily excriments, urban monkey gangs urinating on families that sleep on mats in the train station all while rats wander around and silently rob nearbye crumbs is just one of the many disturbing scenes to keep one occupied while waiting. Outside the train station? Hundreds of people sleeping on the pavement amongst litter. The bicycle rickshaws and motor rickshaws all attempt to dodge them in hope of scoring a foreigner client. The smells are out of this world and the only thing I can safely say exists in
Burn!
The wood grunts prepare the kg's and kg's of wood in order to consume the ever-appearing stream of c...
a higher potency/quantity than people in India is litter. I also can’t seem to get over so many faces, everywhere. Day after day I see so many people that I get the strangest feelings that I’ve seen them before. I guess with so many people there is only so little diversity. That guy I passed in the Rickshaw, wasn’t he the guy that unclogged our toilet in Jaipur? No wait, he was the guy who tried to sell me trinkets behind the Internet cafe in Delhi, but that’s impossible! Is it a relative? I don’t understand anymore.
We actually found AND arrived at a hotel after our customary argument and battle with the rickshaw drivers. Then after the customary shinanegans played by the hotel manager where he refused to give us prices, then gave us the foreigner price, then lowered it when we pretended to leave, then tried to raise it again with more lies, then lowered it again when he saw the rage fill my eyes, then finally got the last word when he cut our power in the middle of the night much to the shagrin of my iPod.
I failed in my experiment to emulate
The Rickshaw
We're so close to fitting into a bike rickshaw comfortably, so close. Although slightly uncomfortab...
Mom’s rice pudding with special requests to the chef and had to make up for it with a dish of ice cream which I then mixed with the rice pudding and converted it into a soupy mess that left me somewhat satisfied. The next night however I had a taste of good beef for the first time since Egypt which was pure bliss.
Yesterday we visited the ghat lined shores of the Ganges River and took a day long walk from one end to the other. The river brought on a real mix of emotions to be honest, excitement: balancing on the mud/cow shit laden walls so as not to slip into the river, disgust: bodies of both man and beast floating by you casually and staring at you from the underworld, joy: the moment you finally manage to get the touting boat captains to leave you alone -last but not least: simple strangeness (or lack of emotion) that I can’t quite describe as I watched dozens of human bodies burn for over an hour. The buildup to Varanasi has been fairly big since Jord and I have both been quite excited about the prospect of seeing dead and
Wowzers!
In our hotel where we got the massages I stumbled upon what I now refer to as the "Western Cabinet" ...
burnt humans and other sick things in a holy river (all bodies are burned unless they are infants, too poor, killed by snake bites or are impregnated). I have to admit, it didn’t dissapoint. There are ghats all over India where they cremate corpses, but here in Varanasi it is extra special and where depending on where you rank in life you are positioned accordingly near the ghat (and river) then set on fire by your closest male relative. Some higher ranking people have special platforms, most however are simply set alight in close piles where goats and dogs feed on them while not closely watched. The whole process was quite enlightening and to be honest, the only thing that disturbed me wasn’t the ash all over my shirt or the cracking of the half burnt skulls with bamboo (it releases the spirit) but simply the compassion I had for the people who bathed in the river only metres away from floating carass’. Sure hundreds of people bath everyday down the river, but during the whole ceremony they first wash the corpse and then typically the husband or son bathes himself in the same spot. While I don’t profess to either know or understand the possible health risks, it left me quite curious as to what they might be.
We certainly retreated from the entire show more educated, and found ourselves navigating a series of maze-like alleyways back to the rickshaw drivers where we returned to the train station to buy tickets to Nepal. Tonight we’re off for what we hope to be about half a month in Nepal. While we killed time today before the train we managed another massage, which was very pleasant although again like everything in India -different. Jord went in first and an hour later they called for me. As I entered the room I knew immediately something was wrong as Jord was gone and his underwear was lying suspiciously on the floor. Odd I thought. I stripped down into my boxer-briefs and casually went to the table before the kind gentlemen gestured I was to remove those as well. So I did, and while I laid there naked as a baby getting oiled by a kind and surprisingly gentle Indian man I couldn’t help but to think that he, Ramish, was now in a very, very (but small) elite club of people who have massaged me naked with oil. I felt quite honoured welcoming him into this union and quickly snapped out of my daydream to see Jord had returned from the steambath. Well, at least it all happened to him as well.
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Patong, so we are sure that you always will find something or somebody new to discover. 
