Tori and Alex's Indian Odyssey: Part Two

Welcome to Part Two!

I'm aiming for one a weekend, so bear with me. This week was good in Doha - took my kids on a school trip to the Souq and didn't lose any of them - so job well done, I believe. I even got a sneaky pic of the policemen using my children as decoys. Here you go:

I can't show you the one from the front as my kids are in the shot, but you get the idea. They look so awesome in person - really majestic, and the horses are a total handful and they handle them like bosses.

I have been busy decorating the apartment with my India purchases and it is not going well. The concrete walls are fairy impenetrable, and i don't have enough photo frames or flat surfaces for my gorgeous knickknacks, but I will persevere.

I have bought a Kindle - I was never that inspired by them before, but since I have been in Doha I have been hit by the huge lack of books and missed reading hugely, especially as I am keen to read 'The Hobbit' again before I see the movie and I cannot get my hands on it here. Doha's idea of a bookstore has iPhone covers and filing cabinets and a few Quran's. That, on top of the jealousy I felt while watching others on my trip use theirs regularly forced my hand. Now I'm not sure if I am more excited about Mum getting here, or the fact that she is bringing my new baby with her... (wink)

Anyway...picking up from Part One, Alex and I had just returned from the quaint and colourful Himachal Pradesh area of North India and were a bit disenchanted by the encroaching filth and overpopulation of the capital, but excited to meet our other Gecko tour mates and see more of India.

DELHI (again)

The night we arrived back in Delhi we had a briefing session with our tour leader, the ever-eloquent Dheerendra Singh (who assured us 'D' was fine when we gave him horrified western stares when he pronounced the name, and none of us never ever actually tried to say it in it's full version) walked us through the trips expectations and do's and don'ts. Alex and I had a few guilty glances to share when we realised we had been doing a few don'ts - such as eating roadside food. Like we said though, we felt fine, and it had all been piping hot. But still. We had a lovely mix of nationalities and backgrounds, but the gender equality was slightly skewed with a token male.

To add to the NZ crowd, we had Cookie (Wairarapa, living in London) and Diana (Wanganui, on her way home from living in London to NZ), Brie and Kara (sisters from Adelaide), Abby (Adeliade) and her partner Robyn (St Louis, Missouri, living in Adeliade), Stephen and his mum Peggy (Sydney), Monique and Christina (Germany) and Caroline (London). Turns out we couldn't have asked for a more amazing group.

The next day we were allowed to sleep in, which Lex and I took full advantage of - we may even have gone as far as getting Tandoori Chicken room service for breakfast I think and we headed into the horror that was the Metro. I'm glad we did it, but there was no way I was going back in there with out D. It was confusing, dark and it had as much security as an airport. I didn't like getting patted down for catching the train. The beggars were also quite aggressive around the exits, the worst being children. One girl almost climbed up Abby's leg to try and get her lemonade.

After the metro we walked through the streets to the Red Fort, a huge complex that was built in 1648 by the same dude that did the Taj, to signify the birth of Shajahanabad, the nations new capital. It is in the present day 'Old Delhi'. It was quite impressive and I like the moat, but we did not go inside, leaving me with little more to share about it.

Red Fort - Old Delhi

Exit from Red Fort looking down the main road with temples on the left.

We went back up the main road with the intention of going into one of the markets famous for wedding purchases. And the we almost died.

Well maybe not quite, but I almost got squashed and Alex got cow spit on her back pack. We got squeezed through a bottle neck right by an intersection and the rest of the group made it through before this beast completely blocked us out. I gauged his swaying back and forth and dived through on his back swing and just made it and then turned round to cheer on Lex, who went for it and got a bit smushed by his face and the drool-string between her and the heifer was truly impressive. By the time we got through and away from a very persistent local we had truly lost our group. We were doing the we-are-staying-calm-we-will-not-panic-everything-is-fully-fine quick walk and eventually saw Stephen, with huge relief, about 4 blocks further down.

Oh, you think camels can drool....

The market looked great - but one big flaw in D's tour guiding became apparent quickly. Rule: If you have 12 women with you, let them shop. We were rushed through so quickly I don't even have photos for you. This was to become a trend in the days to follow, and we had words with him at the end. He understands now, and we fully anticipate, through our training, that he will be married within the year.

That afternoon was the first of two sleeper trains of our trip. I was a mixture of nervous (mainly about the toilet and other passengers) and quite excited about the experience, as it was totally new to me. Our bags were taken out of the labyrinth of streets on cycle rickshaws (poor men!) and people were introduced to Red Heifer Bag.

Fig 1: Red Heifer Bag squashing three other bags on a cycle rickshaw.

The train compartments had no doors and 8 beds. 2 against the window and 6 in the compartment stacked in 3's. You sat on the bottom bunk and leaned against the folded down middle one. Luckily Lex and I were with Abby, Robyn, Cookie and Diana, and the men in the 2 by the window were friendly enough. They were even nice enough to swap with Kara and Brie later in the night. I didn't mind being a tree monkey and took the top bunk which was well above eye level, with Lex beneath me. The bedding was wonderfully clean and we all had a good time playing games until bedtime. Not going to mention the loo. Don't want to think about it - but a word of advice: never walk down a train track in India.

From left: Alex, Cookie, Blurry Diana, Robyn, Abby

Me on the top bunk and Lex on the middle bunk. I had to stand on tip toes to see into Alex's bunk from the floor.

The sleep was as good as can be expected, especially with the early wake up call, but there was no chance of changing into jammies, and as I refused to sleep in my bra I had a wrestling match with it, both that night and the next morning and did not realise until we got to the hotel that the reason I had so much trouble putting it back on, was it was twisted into oblivion.

VARANASI

Hotel Surya, Varanasi

The hotel was huge, and rather nice, with a lovely grassy square in the middle. It even had a spa, and the prices were so ludicrously low we had to go. I had my first pedicure (the awful puddles of polish still haven't come off - 3 weeks later!), got a henna treatment on my hair and henna on my arms and a foot:

Henna in my hair

And on my left arm

And on my right

After it had dried, before i started picking it off - oh the sweet sweet pleasure - it was like picking a scab, but without the pain and grossness.

That afternoon we went on an optional trip to Sarnath, where Buddha traveled to after his 'enlightenment' and where he gave his first sermon. It is considered one of the 4 most important pilgrimage sites of Buddhisim and the temple, Bodhi Tree and surrounding area are beautiful. The temple had paintings that showed the life of Buddha and explained the ideas behind the religion, though in my opinion it is less of a religion and more a widespread life philosophy.

Statue of Buddha and the sun was setting in Varanasi.

A Bodhi Tree, grown from a cutting of the original tree that Buddha sat under during his enlightenment.

Mulagandhakuti Vihara, Buddhist temple at Sarnath, Varansi.

Entrance to the site of the first sermon.

A Buddhist Monk

And his mates

Sarnath also houses the Sarnath Acheological Museum which displays the 'Ashokan Lion Capital' or the 'Seal of India' which was carved out of limestone around 250BC. It survived the destruction of being knocked off the top of a 14m high pillar during some raid or war that escapes my mind at this time, and was dug up at a different point in time. You can't take photos of it, but there is a reproduction in the park (see below) that really does no justice. The original has a lovely base with a frieze and the inverted lotus it stands on is more slender and delicate. Apart from a few nicks it looks brand new and the real one is a lovely deep red colour, unlike it's painted modern counterpart.

Ashokan Lion Capital Replica

I headed back to the hotel that night excited for the dawn boat ride on the Ganges, but not really feeling 100%.

And so it began...

You know what happened, I'm not going to gross you out with details but it was not fun, and it lasted for the rest of the trip, though I refused to let it influence my enjoyment of my holiday and I only missed out on one activity. Needless to say, the bag of drugs I went with was my best friend for a while.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The dawn boat ride on the Ganges was one of the main points on our itinerary I was looking forward to the most. It was one of our earliest wake up calls, and we headed down the ghat (entrance/steps to the river) with a flow of Indians and animals, trying hard not to step in any poo in the half light of the dawn. The heavy mist made it much more magical and mysterious, and once we reached the waters edge we hovered around waiting for it to burn off, and little parts of the area were revealed bit by bit.

The mist reveals a pilgrim warming up after his morning swim.

For those interested, the Ganges travels from the Himalayas in India to Bangladesh and is considered to be the physical manifestation of the Hindu goddess Ganga and it is a requirement of practising Hindus to bathe in her waters at least once in their lifetime. The significance of the 'tirtha' of the Ganges at Varansi holds special religious significance as the city is also considered of strong religious importance as it was founded by Lord Shiva (the Auspicious One). The city has thousands of temples and the ghats serve as more than entrances to the river - including the 'laundry ghats' (though WHY you would want your washing done in the filth of the river is beyond me) and the two remaining 'funeral ghats' (Hindu's are cremated and their ashes are put into the Ganges, which is a "vehicle to heaven").

Pilgrims were mainly men, though we did see a few women, who were generally more discreet.

While waiting for the mist to lift enough that we would actually be able to see something while out on the boat, we walked up river to the largest of the two funeral ghats. Historically, this was a lower class profession, but as the ghats closed down over the years, the two families that still offer cremation have become very wealthy. I am not too intrigued by death, and was less than keen as our guide led us upwind and only a few metres away from a burning body to see the 'magical fire that never goes out'. I was not all that interested by the pile of burning sticks, but did enjoy the reasons why females where 'kept inside during the cremation process' - because they can't be trusted not to throw themselves in the fire due to their profound grief. As if. Photos were not allowed, but i took this sneaky one of the roof of the temple from the piles of wood used to cremate the bodies - the wood you select determines the price of the burning.

Sinister piles of dead wood for the dead.

The size of the Ganges is revealed as the sun rises and mourners crowd around the funeral ghat (see the body burning on the left and Diana in the foreground)

a Holy Man on the edge of the river

As we headed back to our boat we saw a few sights that made you smile:

Boss Bull. This guy knew he was in charge and just played with you enough to watch you jump.

Vintage Vodafone sponsorship.

Another cow we had to squeeze past - this ones excrement splattered onto a few people.

A kingfisher hanging out on a red pole.

And then we set off into the river as the sun truly came up.

This is the "postcard" shot with the impressive terracotta temple. (You can see the colour of the Henna in my roots)

Shopping, shopping everywhere - I got a small wooden box from this lovely man.

After the Ganges we went to see silk weaving - which is a dying art form. It was beautiful to see the skill and creativity that the weavers used to make the scarves, wall hangings and material, but it is not really my style and by this stage I really needed to head back to bed.

One of the most skilled weavers.

Modelling a sari.

After the silk weavers I was unfortunately done for the day, and I missed the return to the Ganges for the sunset rituals, but I had at least seen it in the morning.

Sticking out like sore thumbs in the theatre.

The next day I made myself get up and go to a Bollywood film with D and a few of the others, and the disconcerting way the actors flicked between english and hindi was oddly entertaining, and I loved the way everything was presented to you in the most extreme way possible, so much so that the language was not really a barrier, as you had to be fairly dense not to get what was going on, but the best part, by FAR, was that it was basically an Indian Bond film, but that didn't stop them putting in a completely out-of-context dance number. Oh it was fabulous.

After the movie we packed up to catch the sleeper to Agra. No excitement this time - I was petrified. I was still pretty ill, and I had a clear recollection of the toilet that a train of about 100 shared. It was New Years Eve as well and though it was illegal to drink on the train, our gallant (and teetotal) tour leader smuggled some rum onboard just for us. I was determined to at least see in the new year, and I spent the long evening battling against the crippling stomach cramps the evil pills had given me (though thankfully not needing the loo a whole lot), finally giving in a measly 30 min before the clock ticked over. It was quite a lovely atmosphere on the cramped train, however, as you would hear random bursts of singing as tourists from each different country saw in the New Year from back home in real time - go NZ being first! I also managed to get the bottom bunk out of pity, and was glad I had already taken my turn up top.

So, all in all, not the best way to see in the New Year, but I had a feeling seeing the Taj Mahal on New Years day was going to help the holiday reclaim it's epic-ness...

As usual - miscellaneous photos that don't really fit in anywhere to finish: