Now I was pretty apprehensive about Varanasi. Lonely Planet warned that it was one of the most overwhelming cities in India and it's not for the faint of heart. As much as I'd love to say I'm ready for anything in India, we're about to hit our 6th month traveling and my heart may be fainting a little. But strangely I thrived in the narrow crowded streets of Varanasi. True, you're packed like sardines on tiny shit covered streets, sharing the road with cows and the occasional motor bike, but there was one important difference to other cities we've visited: we weren't hassled nearly as much. It was a fresh relief that for most things, we were not the target of shop keepers. The Kumbh Mela is drawing to a close in Allahabad and all of the pilgrims are making a stop in Varanasi before they return home. It is these devoutly religious people that shop keepers try to snare with prayer beads and good luck talismans.
Let me explain the Mela. It is a giant religious Hindu gathering that millions of pilgrims (including sadhus) attend. The recurrences of the mela are really confusing, but the general gist is that it repeats every third year in a rotation of four different locations. Some important Mela only repeats every 12 years but look at the wiki article yourself, it's confusing as hell. They're all called a variation of the Kumbh Mela but some repeat every 3 years, every 12, every 144. Anyway, what's important is that it's between 30-80 million people (depending on the day) in one place, fighting to get a dip in the Ganga.
We made a friend while we were in Varanasi, which is new for us! In the past few weeks all of a sudden we talk to fellow travelers more and more. It's pretty refreshing to hear new voices other than our own. One guy in particular, named Sean, hung around with us for a few days. We went with him to the nightly ceremony that takes place on the main ghat, we took our meals with him, and we explored Varanasi with him. He was pretty horrified when he found out we were only 19 and 20 and we were astonished when he revealed that he was 33! When you are traveling, age doesn't seem to matter so much. Just by experiencing the same things that are so different from western culture, you forge a bond between travelers no matter what age they are. We are bonded by the struggles and the hardships that we all undoubtably have at some point during our trips. So, after the first night with Sean, we were able to sit in silence after a long day of sight seeing like old friends.
One of the most interesting things that we experienced with Sean was walking through the sadhu camps. The sadhus are wandering monks that have renounced their material life. Sadhus' lives are fully committed to achieving the fourth and final stage of life for Hindus. This includes enlightenment and breaking the cycle of reincarnation. For most people, this is in fact impossible, so it takes complete dedication. In order to become a sadhu, you must sever all earthly connections. Part of that process includes attending your own funeral. According to the government, family, friends, you are dead. They come down from the mountains for the Kumbh Mela every three years. Most sadhus after dipping in Allahabad, return immediately to their homes in the mountains. Some will visit Varanasi but for the most part the sadhus that make their permanent home in the camps along the ghats are not real sadhus. They take advantage of the sadhu lifestyle and use it to beg from innocent people so they can have money to purchase marijuana. That isn't to say they're not a sight to see! You enter the beginnings of their camps and it's a flurry of red, orange and yellow tarps forming make shift tents that seep smoke. As a result, there seems to be a slight haze surrounding the camps. It gives it an almost carnival feel (although maybe that's the second hand smoke talking :) In all seriousness, you walk around and you see multiple sadhus occupying each tent in various levels of dress. There were quite a few naked but for the white ash smeared all over them, many wore only loin clothes, and a rare few actually wore some warm color garments. They are a scraggly looking bunch with massive dreadlocks and long beards. Many smoke their hash and sit content in their tents swaying to a rhythm that only they can hear. Many aging western hippies join them in their tents to "search for enlightenment" *cough* smoke dope *cough* No wonder these sadhus are all in advanced stages of enlightenment, their job is to smoke hash and meditate! No earthly possessions, no family to distract them, just their hash and their minds. There are some sadhus that pose on raised dais or on beds, naked and proud of it. If you want to take a picture though, they require payment, a hint that maybe they are not real sadhus. That's not to say that real sadhus don't beg, they do. They are fully dependent on the charity of people around them but they don't specifically want the attention of tourists. To be a sadhu is a hard and deprived life and is intensely religious. They are not entertainment acts that get really high and amuse tourists with strange chanting and drum music. That being said, it was still quite an experience to walk through the camps and watch just that.
There is one sadhu in particular that stays uniquely in my memory. He was present at the nightly ceremony, sitting on this raised concrete platform in the midst of the crowd. Just as the ceremony was about to start he stood up and tied his orange shirt around his waist like a high school valley girl. He was wearing nothing underneath except for an enormous bell that had been fastened around his penis. It weighed down his penis so much I was afraid it might just rip it off. He stood very proud with his shirt tied and this huge bell. Soon people of all ages began to approach him (all Indian). I suppose they wanted to be blessed by him or something of the sort, because he would bow his head and then pat them a few time on theirs. It was a very strange sight to see. They sound pretty crazy but to Indians they are very holy!
We took an early morning sunrise boat tour of Varanasi. At 6am there was already a flood of people taking their spiritual dip in the Ganga. It was totally packed! In our boat we were able to get very close to all the action without having to push through the crowds. It was a kind of relieving experience. It also allowed us to get pretty close to the burning ghats. We were able to get closer to them on foot, but there was a pretty intense feeling that we didn't belong when we were standing right next to the pyres that wasn't present when we watched from the river. The burning ghats is another one of those things that made Varanasi really unique. Because it is a holy city, burnings can happen 24/7 rather than at specific times. It takes 3 hours for one body to burn fully and in that time countless kilos of wood is burned. Families must buy the wood for their loved ones, the most expensive being sandalwood which is usually reserved for the wealthy and important. The wood surrounding the main burning ghat is incredible. It is stacked reminiscent of Lincoln logs and is almost as high as the surrounding buildings! I'd never seen a dead body before but it was a pretty surreal experience. They are brought to the site on stretchers wrapped in a shroud of various bright colors. Their body is then placed on the pyre and lit with the "fire of Shiva". This fire, which burns directly behind the ghat, never goes out and is used to light every body. It is said that the same flames have been burning for over 3500 years without once going out! When we first visited the ghat, the bodies (I think) must have been burning for a while. A foot. A hand. An elbow. Part of a face. Various parts of the body were visible and what's more still recognizable as we watched the body burn. Some limbs were already charred and a lot was covered by the wood. Even then, it was still a pretty intense experience. Like I said, I don't think I've ever seen a dead body in real life before, and to think that this inanimate body, this burning "thing" was a live person just a few days ago was a really hard concept for my brain to wrap around. Thus the surreal nature of the event.
There's a little bit more of Varanasi that Alexis will explain later. We volunteered at a school. But that's a story for another day.
Cheers,
Liz
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