Varanasi (and India): As Different as it Gets

Our guidebook describes Varanasi thus:

“Perhaps one of India’s holiest cities, Varanasi defies easy description. A highly congested maze of narrow alleys winding behind its waterfront ghats, at once highly sacred yet physically often far from clean. As an image, an idea and a symbol of Hinduism’s central realities, the city draws pilgrims from around the world to worship, meditate, and above all bathe. It is a place to be born, and a place to die. In the cold mists of a winter’s dawn, you can see life and death laid bare. For an outside observer, it can be an uncomfortable, albeit unmissable experience, juxtaposing the inner philosophical mysteries of Hinduism with the practical complications of living literally and metaphysically on the edge.“  (Footprint, India Handbook, 17th edition).

The language is a little esoteric, but the description is pretty close to the mark. What the author does not convey though, is just how strange and overwhelming Varanasi can be, nor does it indicate the beauty or depth of the place. Unfortunately though, if I’m honest, my Varanasi experience was more about the strange and overwhelming than the beautiful or deep.

Varanasi Ghat

Varanasi (also called Banares or sometimes Kashi), in addition to being a holy place for centuries (since 700 B.C.) is also a centre of Hindu learning and culture. It ins one of the oldest if not the oldest continuously inhabited place on earth. The old town hugs the banks of the Ganges and is a warren of narrow cobblestone streets that give way to waterfront ghats (flat landings and steps leading to the river) where pilgrims bathe in the sacred, albeit polluted, river. Here too are the burning ghats where corpses are burned in open air fires so that the ashes may be scattered in the sacred river (there is also a more efficient although somewhat ghoulish crematorium building near one of the burning ghats). It is also a major draw for non-Indian (northern) tourists, and there is a whole range of accommodations and creature comforts set up just for them.

Puja at dawn

A typical day in Varanasi might consist of a boat ride on the Ganges where you may or may not bump into a floating corpse (we did by the way), dodging cows and monkeys in some medieval back alley, getting stuck in a traffic jam, declining dozens of solicitations from rickshaws, taxis, beggars and touts, wilting in the mid-day heat, walking past corpses being cremated at one of the burning ghats, while dozes bathe in the river downstream, observing any number of religious ceremonies or festivals (we witnessed 3), being offered a blessing, for a fee, by a ragged looking sadhu (Hindu holy man who has renounced worldly goods), having to cover your face to try to avoid the stench of open sewers, all the while dodging hordes of European and American tourists. After one such day, Colleen observed that, for someone with our background (Northern, Christian, etc.), Varanasi was as different as a place could get.

Fire Puja at Dashashwamedh Ghat

As usual, she hit the nail on the head. Varanasi is completely different from anything in my experience. So different in fact that it was difficult for me to see beyond the difference and strangeness in order to grasp any meaning or beauty, which was always there of course, just below the surface. I did manage to catch some hints, but never got a good feel for it. The woman performing puja (worship) at the river’s edge at dawn, teenagers playing cricket at one of the ghats because that was the only open area they could find, little shops tucked into back alleys where daily life took place, and religious buildings, ceremonies or people at every corner were all pleasant interludes in an otherwise bewildering, hectic and sometimes unpleasant day. They were not, as I would have hoped, pieces of a fascinating puzzle that I could try to piece together.

Unfortunately, in some ways, the same could be said of my India experience in general. Blame it on being rushed (we probably packed too much in to our three week visit), travel fatigue (we’ve been on the road for 3 months now) or culture shock, I had a hard time seeing beyond the strange and aggravating in India to see the good. I’m not implying that I didn’t like India, or that I learned nothing, because more than any place I’ve been, India intrigued and challenged me, and even in the short time I was there, I learned so much. It’s just that I feel like there was so much that I missed. I suppose that the best thing to come out of our trip to India is a strong desire to come back for more. 

We are in Nepal now, but more on that in the next post...


Michael
Thamel, Kathmandu