Varanasi

Last Thursday, myself and four other volunteers went to visit Varanasi. This ancient city is located in the densely populated state of Uttar Pradesh, on the banks of the River Ganges. Hindus believe that by dying and being cremated here, they will end the cycle of reincarnation. It’s difficult to describe what I have trouble understanding so I’ll leave it at that. We got an overnight train that I barely slept a wink on. Finally, we arrived and got an auto into the city center. It could only take us so far as the paved streets were barely wide enough for motorbikes. It took us ten minutes of walking through the labyrinthine streets before we reached the hotel. It was worth dodging the cow dung as the view of the Ganges was spectacular. Once we were settled into our rooms, I lay down on the bed and promptly passed out. I woke up a few hours later and went for a walk along the ghats, the steps leading down to the bank of the Ganges where people immersed themselves and washed their clothes in the holy waters. I didn’t so much as dip my toe in it after discovering how polluted the river is. We continued walking until we reached one of the crematorium sites along the river. I was warned not to take photos of the burning pyres. The body is carried down wrapped in brightly-coloured fabrics. It is dipped in the Ganges and placed on top of a pyre. The wood used is precisely weighed beforehand. The eldest son walks around the body seven times and then it is lit. It sounds very morbid but it isn’t as the surroundings bring a sense of peace and calm. We walked back towards the hotel to witness a ceremony that occurs every evening called “Agni Pooja” (Worship to Fire). During the ceremony, we got onto a row boat. I was petrified. Although I can swim, I have this irrational fear of the water. I tensed up every time someone got up to switch positions in the small row boat. I think it’s more to do with falling in fully clothed and drowning. And because the river is a toilet. I was glad when I set foot on the ghats. After the ceremony, the street lights came on and robbed the city of its air of mystique. We ate dinner on a rooftop restauraunt that gave us an eerie view of a dark, shrouded city. We were occasionally distracted by the fireworks exploding in the distance.

I spent Saturday doing as little as possible. After a walk along the ghats, we went for lunch in quite possibly the most uncomfortable restaurant I’ve ever been in. There were no chairs. There were only cushions on the floor with small tables raised about a foot off the ground. This would have been alright if we had space to stretch out our legs. We didn’t because we were sandwiched in a narrow room barely three foot wide. The only way to sit down was by crossing my legs. I had to stand up periodically just to avert cramps. However, we did get a great view of the monkeys and I had a delicious chicken curry so it wasn’t all bad. I still don’t know how Indians sit in these positions for long periods of time. The weekend passed far too quickly but I was glad I got a chance to unwind. It was going so well until the time came to go home. Our train was scheduled to leave Varanasi after 6pm. We groaned when we heard an announcement stating that the train would be delayed by two hours. Two hours became four hours. We were supposed to arrive back in Kolkata around 8am. We didn’t get in until around 3pm. It reminded me of the film The Darjeeling Limited where the protagonists are stranded in the desert because the train got “lost.” I'm still recovering...

Thanks to Kate for the picture of Eoin Mac, Ben and myself.