Trains, Boats, and Cycle-Rickshaws
This past weekend in Varanasi was an adventure that involved several forms of transportation that are unusual for me. The first was the 12 hour train ride from Delhi to Varanasi. Most travelers in India go by the 3AC class, but because there were no seats left in this class, Dan and Rafa and I went by Sleeper class. To give an idea of the conditions in this class, I will just say that it smells even worse than Metro North and that the bunk beds along the walls are stacked so close together that your only choice is to lie flat on your bed.
Fortunately, the food and drink vendors who frequently pace through the train provide some entertainment. Each of them has their own distinctive call as they ply whatever it is they are selling- "chai.chai.chai.chai" or "chayeee...chayeee...chayeee..." or "gulab JAMuun, gulab JAMuun, gulab JAMuun"... or "SAMosa. SAMosa. SAMosa. SAMosa" They all sound like off-key robots and it is quite amusing to watch them run up and down in their red uniforms.
Our hotel in Varanasi was nothing too exciting, but we could see the Ganges river right from our window. The Ganges was, for me, the only really interesting part of Varanasi. And so much goes on in this river- bathing, laundry, religious ceremonies, funeral processions, swimming... you can imagine that it's extremely dirty. Hindus believe that it is auspicious for cremated ashes to be scattered into this holy river, so there are burning halls, or ghats, lining the river throughout the length of Varanasi.
Dan and Rafaela and I went for two boat rides in the river, one at dawn and one at sunset, and got to see all of these things going on. People had warned me that I might see a dead corpse or two floating by. Unfortunately for me, this did not happen. I would have liked to have seen one. We did catch sight of a huge religious ceremony on the banks during our sunset ride, and this was quite a spectacle, with smoke and flames and dancing.
We also saw a couple of Hindu temples, one of them so heavily guarded due to Hindu-Muslim conflict in this area that you had to walk through a metal detector to get in and leave your electronics outside (we left ours in a nearby silk shop that was owned by our boat-driver's family). I received an extremely intense frisking from the security women who then went on to confiscate my pens and pencils. This even beats the US Embassy in Delhi for security.
The other thing we did in Varanasi was ride cycle rickshaws. A cycle rickshaw is basically a bicycle that pulls a little bench-type thing behind it, on which the passengers sit. The bench is placed about 5 feet off the ground, so any fall off the bench would be quite a serious one. After dinner one night with Dan, Rafa, and a couple of Germans we'd recruited to join us, the five of us ended up taking three of these rickshaws home-- the Germans on one, Dan on the other, and Rafa and I on the third. The predictable trip back to our hotel evolved into a race between the three rickshaw-wallas. Unfortunately for Rafa and I, ours was the youngest, fittest, and fastest. He took off at break-neck speed through the streets of Varanasi with us clinging to each other and to the seat to keep from falling off... we even overtook a motorcycle at one point. Whenever I tried to tell him in Hindi to slow down, he'd just turn around and give me a mischievous look. We made it back to our hotel in one piece, and even I started to enjoy it in the way one enjoys a roller coaster. But I think my hair is still standing on end...
Fortunately, the food and drink vendors who frequently pace through the train provide some entertainment. Each of them has their own distinctive call as they ply whatever it is they are selling- "chai.chai.chai.chai" or "chayeee...chayeee...chayeee..." or "gulab JAMuun, gulab JAMuun, gulab JAMuun"... or "SAMosa. SAMosa. SAMosa. SAMosa" They all sound like off-key robots and it is quite amusing to watch them run up and down in their red uniforms.
Our hotel in Varanasi was nothing too exciting, but we could see the Ganges river right from our window. The Ganges was, for me, the only really interesting part of Varanasi. And so much goes on in this river- bathing, laundry, religious ceremonies, funeral processions, swimming... you can imagine that it's extremely dirty. Hindus believe that it is auspicious for cremated ashes to be scattered into this holy river, so there are burning halls, or ghats, lining the river throughout the length of Varanasi.
Dan and Rafaela and I went for two boat rides in the river, one at dawn and one at sunset, and got to see all of these things going on. People had warned me that I might see a dead corpse or two floating by. Unfortunately for me, this did not happen. I would have liked to have seen one. We did catch sight of a huge religious ceremony on the banks during our sunset ride, and this was quite a spectacle, with smoke and flames and dancing.
We also saw a couple of Hindu temples, one of them so heavily guarded due to Hindu-Muslim conflict in this area that you had to walk through a metal detector to get in and leave your electronics outside (we left ours in a nearby silk shop that was owned by our boat-driver's family). I received an extremely intense frisking from the security women who then went on to confiscate my pens and pencils. This even beats the US Embassy in Delhi for security.
The other thing we did in Varanasi was ride cycle rickshaws. A cycle rickshaw is basically a bicycle that pulls a little bench-type thing behind it, on which the passengers sit. The bench is placed about 5 feet off the ground, so any fall off the bench would be quite a serious one. After dinner one night with Dan, Rafa, and a couple of Germans we'd recruited to join us, the five of us ended up taking three of these rickshaws home-- the Germans on one, Dan on the other, and Rafa and I on the third. The predictable trip back to our hotel evolved into a race between the three rickshaw-wallas. Unfortunately for Rafa and I, ours was the youngest, fittest, and fastest. He took off at break-neck speed through the streets of Varanasi with us clinging to each other and to the seat to keep from falling off... we even overtook a motorcycle at one point. Whenever I tried to tell him in Hindi to slow down, he'd just turn around and give me a mischievous look. We made it back to our hotel in one piece, and even I started to enjoy it in the way one enjoys a roller coaster. But I think my hair is still standing on end...
posted by Molly at 5:41 AM
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