A Tourist in India
My experiences in India as a volunteer were so vastly different from those as a tourist. Had I only volunteered I would have easy only answered to any question of India with 'I loved it. I could have stayed. I'd surely go back.'
Once leaving the comfort and safety of this surrounding to venture into the sacred wonders of India I was presented with different emotions.
First off, travelling, even catching a bus or train is so incredibly difficult in India. Without our personal tuktuk driver we'd never have found our local bus to Agra at 6:00 am.
As we pulled up, our driver waved down a slowly moving bus and pointed for us to hop on. We grabbed our bags, paid our 2$ bus fair and settled in for the approximately 6 hour journey. We sat in the front, 3 ladies, behind the driver. The seats were tattered, dirty, and the bus cold. The windows didn't close. No one spoke English. The radio blared with what I'm guessing were classic Hindi songs. Not only did this adventure start off with noisy tunes but in India everyone honks their horn as they pass another car. Every single car. And not the soft, tolerable North American horn. A screaming off key horn that the driver holds down the entire time he's passing these multiple vehicles. The young local who can speak English, sitting a few rows behind, questions our option of riding a local bus saying how rare it is to site westerners in these seats.
We like the adventure we say.
When arriving in Agra and checking into our hotel, with the rooftop view of Taj Mahal, we head up to get a bite and to check out the sites. It's incredibly foggy. The Taj is faintly visible. From our rooftop we're looking down on most rooftops. Chipped brick, clotheslines and busy streets. Monkeys screech at each other swinging from trees and buildings. We make our way through the narrow and winding, market filled streets to the Taj Mahal. It's incredible the transformation from bustling smelly streets, cattle and dogs scattered about, to the quiet, pristine green grass inside the walls. However beautiful the site, thousands of people remained within the walls all also here to see the Taj.
Locals from all areas of India pay less but are made to stand in lengthy lines that weave around an unreasonable distance while tourists get the go-ahead. In line to get in we're waved through ahead of the people who live in this country. It seems backward to me, but so do many things here.
Stopping for a moment to take a photo of the spectacular view gives the locals their chance... Many people come forward to ask for a photo. Young men, women and even children ask to take a photo with us. I've heard many reasons why: we look like celebrities, some people have never seen someone with white skin, others use them for adds or send to friends. I don't know what to believe. The Taj Mahal is spectacular with the beautiful detail put into every inch of building.
The next morning we're up early, before the sun, and head to the dingy, cold train station. Our train is delayed by one hour, then another, then another, and another... 6 hours after our arrival at the train station we decide to take a local bus for the 7 hour journey to Jaipur. We arrive in Jaipur late and head in for the night for an early morning.
In Jaipur we visit the Janter Manter, Amber Fort and Monkey Temple. The day is warm and the sites beautiful. We climb the hill, covered by Monkeys, cows and dogs, to monkey temple. At the top we have a breathtaking view of Jaipur. We get henna art from a local woman here.
Jaipur is a beautiful city, but again there is so much filth, poverty and death of animals in the street. Here in Jaipur the photo taking is not bad, we have only few people approach us and ask to take a photo of us or with us.
The overnight bus home from Jaipur is one of the worst I've yet encountered on any overseas journey. The sleeping quarters are fair sized with doors which close completely, so safety doesn't concern me. The beds are damp from condensation and winter use. The ride is terribly cold and by the time we arrive back in Delhi I know I've caught some sort of bug on this weekend excursion.
These cities have given me a small taste of being a tourist in India and though busy and overwhelming it doesn't seem so bad, I'm excited for my upcoming weekend away in Varanasi. Lucky for me a volunteer friend has decided to join.
We fly to Varanasi and are brought the one hour from airport to hotel by taxi. As we drive through the city we're so refreshed at the sun, blue skies, calm streets and quiet.
It's actually quiet. We discuss how relaxing this trip is going to be. So blissfully ignorant.
On arrival we walk around the winding alleys that are used as roads. The buildings are so tall that the sun only peaks through every so often when it's at the right position. If you look up, 3 or 4 floors high, the monkeys jump from windowsills or balconies.
The alleyways are probably only 2-3 meters wide in some areas and are shared with large horned cows, water buffalo, dogs, new born pups, tourists, carts and stalls and all the droppings from all of these animals... And humans.
Watch your step.
Lucky for us stepping in cow dung is considered lucky. I should have a lifetime of luck after Varanasi.
We take the river cruise around the Ganga River. We've been told before our arrival that the Ganga will wash away your sins with a dip in the river. We figure 'perfect', the new year is around the corner and no sins for us!
On the boat we notice the water looks awfully dirty, we're reconsidering that dunk.
Our long beautiful wooden boat is occupied by only us and the rower. The wood is old but the boat sturdy. We purchase floating candles in a bed of flowers and set them on the Ganga while thinking of loved ones. It's all very beautiful and peaceful.
We row past our first Ghat and the rower tells us of the tradition of burning bodies in this outdoor cremation system... we wait and watch .. We'd seen these bodies be carried through the streets on beautiful drapery covered in fresh flowers while the others chanted prayers.
Looking back now I can't remember if I knew that this was in Varanasi at this point or not. Talking to my dad back home that evening about the adventures of the day he informed me that the local people actually put the remains and ashes of the dead into the Ganga.
'No they don't' I said. 'There are signs all over the Ganga river banks in Varanasi that state to keep the river clean. '
Walking around in many shops in search of scarves and clothing proves to be quite the task. Shop owners exhaust us with the pressure to buy anything and everything that we've looked at. People yell in the streets and push and shove to get through the narrow allies. Others squat mid walk to relieve themselves on the stone walkway. We're to bed early that evening, and good thing, as we find out there is no travel through the city passed 10pm. We're told this is because of problems in previous years due to crime and alcohol.
As the days progress we learn more and more about the beliefs, culture and traditions of the local people. The Aghori's, traditional people of Varanasi, are visible in the community. We learned so much about these people, more than we wanted to know, but I'll only speak of what we actually saw or learned first hand. The Aghori's wear traditional orange garments. They often have long shaggy or dread locked hair and cover their bodies with white ash. The ash is in fact that from the burning ghats. These people live and spend their days by the riverside and spend their nights at the ghats. To take a photo of them, for a tourist, means paying a fee of about 50 INR. Mostly they do not sell things like the other locals.
Part of the tradition of the Aghori's is canabilsm of the bodies in Varanasi (this is not knowledge I acquired first hand, but from the internet, therefore I will not disclose details, but a quick google search can answer any curious questions). What we were told by a local was to stay away from the burning Ghats. He advised us to look from a distance but that they're very dangerous and we should not approach them. He explained the process, that people from all over India spend up to 500,000INR to have a body burned here and sent into the sacred river. The river is believed to be a direct portal to a better place. However, many are not burned but are sunk to the bottom after death. These include for example; death by disease, women, children, infants, and child bearing mothers.
The people of Varanasi, and India, believe the river to be so sacred they continue to bath in and drink from it. We were obviously quite shocked at this as foreigners, but when asking a local man he explained to us that it all depends on your beliefs. He said, if you believe it is infected, it will be, but if you believe it is pure, it will be. This is a fair belief in this culture, however for us, we did not drink from or bath in the waters of the Ganga. We watched in awe and were sponges for all we'd come to know.
Near the Ganga, and in Varanasi, is generally bustling with people. Everyone wants to talk and 'be your friend' but eventually they hit you with the sales pitch and if you so much as say 'maybe' that person will follow you for the rest of your day whether it be to a temple or even back to your hotel. Despite the beauty of the city and the wonderful sites we'd experienced, the days got exhausting and we decided to take a boat across the river to a sand bank that looked very empty.
On arrival, the first 10 minutes, were relatively peaceful. Making new friends with stray dogs is very easy when you have a bag full of snacks.
Not long after, a boat full of local tourists arrived in front of us. They asked to take our photos and put their children in between us. We promised only one photo but it never stops there. After many photos were taken we were hiding our faces with scarves but this didn't stop the photos from coming. When finally they'd moved on, not long after, a group of local intoxicated men showed up on motorcycles to do the same.. Needless to say, we headed back to our hotel.
I'm grateful for the memory of meeting a wonderful local man who has taken initiative in the ' Wall of Creation ' which is an area along the Ganga which was formerly used as an outdoor toilet. This young local man, not asking for any donation, had backpackers and tourists paint art on the wall and the sideways to deter people from soiling the area. At night he, and friends, hold local music shows free of charge along the Ganga. He's planted a beautiful garden and made the whole area safer and more appealing. Each year in the rainy season the water will wash away the beautiful paintings, but as the waters subside and the walkway dries, he starts over with the same goal in mind. We spent a couple of our evenings on the river bank with other tourists who'd come to hear the music. It was a little bit of peace in a hectic city.
I'll have stories to tell for a lifetime from my trip in India. Some are of beautiful wonders of the world, some are bizarre local experiences and others are of the discomforts of this country. I think all are equally valuable and important in their own way. It's essential to feel and experience other areas of the world to truly understand and respect the life I have in Canada. I feel I've had a great advantage in this sense and I wouldn't change it for anything.
Once leaving the comfort and safety of this surrounding to venture into the sacred wonders of India I was presented with different emotions.
First off, travelling, even catching a bus or train is so incredibly difficult in India. Without our personal tuktuk driver we'd never have found our local bus to Agra at 6:00 am.
As we pulled up, our driver waved down a slowly moving bus and pointed for us to hop on. We grabbed our bags, paid our 2$ bus fair and settled in for the approximately 6 hour journey. We sat in the front, 3 ladies, behind the driver. The seats were tattered, dirty, and the bus cold. The windows didn't close. No one spoke English. The radio blared with what I'm guessing were classic Hindi songs. Not only did this adventure start off with noisy tunes but in India everyone honks their horn as they pass another car. Every single car. And not the soft, tolerable North American horn. A screaming off key horn that the driver holds down the entire time he's passing these multiple vehicles. The young local who can speak English, sitting a few rows behind, questions our option of riding a local bus saying how rare it is to site westerners in these seats.
We like the adventure we say.
When arriving in Agra and checking into our hotel, with the rooftop view of Taj Mahal, we head up to get a bite and to check out the sites. It's incredibly foggy. The Taj is faintly visible. From our rooftop we're looking down on most rooftops. Chipped brick, clotheslines and busy streets. Monkeys screech at each other swinging from trees and buildings. We make our way through the narrow and winding, market filled streets to the Taj Mahal. It's incredible the transformation from bustling smelly streets, cattle and dogs scattered about, to the quiet, pristine green grass inside the walls. However beautiful the site, thousands of people remained within the walls all also here to see the Taj.
Locals from all areas of India pay less but are made to stand in lengthy lines that weave around an unreasonable distance while tourists get the go-ahead. In line to get in we're waved through ahead of the people who live in this country. It seems backward to me, but so do many things here.
Stopping for a moment to take a photo of the spectacular view gives the locals their chance... Many people come forward to ask for a photo. Young men, women and even children ask to take a photo with us. I've heard many reasons why: we look like celebrities, some people have never seen someone with white skin, others use them for adds or send to friends. I don't know what to believe. The Taj Mahal is spectacular with the beautiful detail put into every inch of building.
The next morning we're up early, before the sun, and head to the dingy, cold train station. Our train is delayed by one hour, then another, then another, and another... 6 hours after our arrival at the train station we decide to take a local bus for the 7 hour journey to Jaipur. We arrive in Jaipur late and head in for the night for an early morning.
In Jaipur we visit the Janter Manter, Amber Fort and Monkey Temple. The day is warm and the sites beautiful. We climb the hill, covered by Monkeys, cows and dogs, to monkey temple. At the top we have a breathtaking view of Jaipur. We get henna art from a local woman here.
Jaipur is a beautiful city, but again there is so much filth, poverty and death of animals in the street. Here in Jaipur the photo taking is not bad, we have only few people approach us and ask to take a photo of us or with us.
The overnight bus home from Jaipur is one of the worst I've yet encountered on any overseas journey. The sleeping quarters are fair sized with doors which close completely, so safety doesn't concern me. The beds are damp from condensation and winter use. The ride is terribly cold and by the time we arrive back in Delhi I know I've caught some sort of bug on this weekend excursion.
These cities have given me a small taste of being a tourist in India and though busy and overwhelming it doesn't seem so bad, I'm excited for my upcoming weekend away in Varanasi. Lucky for me a volunteer friend has decided to join.
We fly to Varanasi and are brought the one hour from airport to hotel by taxi. As we drive through the city we're so refreshed at the sun, blue skies, calm streets and quiet.
It's actually quiet. We discuss how relaxing this trip is going to be. So blissfully ignorant.
On arrival we walk around the winding alleys that are used as roads. The buildings are so tall that the sun only peaks through every so often when it's at the right position. If you look up, 3 or 4 floors high, the monkeys jump from windowsills or balconies.
The alleyways are probably only 2-3 meters wide in some areas and are shared with large horned cows, water buffalo, dogs, new born pups, tourists, carts and stalls and all the droppings from all of these animals... And humans.
Watch your step.
Lucky for us stepping in cow dung is considered lucky. I should have a lifetime of luck after Varanasi.
We take the river cruise around the Ganga River. We've been told before our arrival that the Ganga will wash away your sins with a dip in the river. We figure 'perfect', the new year is around the corner and no sins for us!
On the boat we notice the water looks awfully dirty, we're reconsidering that dunk.
Our long beautiful wooden boat is occupied by only us and the rower. The wood is old but the boat sturdy. We purchase floating candles in a bed of flowers and set them on the Ganga while thinking of loved ones. It's all very beautiful and peaceful.
We row past our first Ghat and the rower tells us of the tradition of burning bodies in this outdoor cremation system... we wait and watch .. We'd seen these bodies be carried through the streets on beautiful drapery covered in fresh flowers while the others chanted prayers.
Looking back now I can't remember if I knew that this was in Varanasi at this point or not. Talking to my dad back home that evening about the adventures of the day he informed me that the local people actually put the remains and ashes of the dead into the Ganga.
'No they don't' I said. 'There are signs all over the Ganga river banks in Varanasi that state to keep the river clean. '
Walking around in many shops in search of scarves and clothing proves to be quite the task. Shop owners exhaust us with the pressure to buy anything and everything that we've looked at. People yell in the streets and push and shove to get through the narrow allies. Others squat mid walk to relieve themselves on the stone walkway. We're to bed early that evening, and good thing, as we find out there is no travel through the city passed 10pm. We're told this is because of problems in previous years due to crime and alcohol.
As the days progress we learn more and more about the beliefs, culture and traditions of the local people. The Aghori's, traditional people of Varanasi, are visible in the community. We learned so much about these people, more than we wanted to know, but I'll only speak of what we actually saw or learned first hand. The Aghori's wear traditional orange garments. They often have long shaggy or dread locked hair and cover their bodies with white ash. The ash is in fact that from the burning ghats. These people live and spend their days by the riverside and spend their nights at the ghats. To take a photo of them, for a tourist, means paying a fee of about 50 INR. Mostly they do not sell things like the other locals.
Part of the tradition of the Aghori's is canabilsm of the bodies in Varanasi (this is not knowledge I acquired first hand, but from the internet, therefore I will not disclose details, but a quick google search can answer any curious questions). What we were told by a local was to stay away from the burning Ghats. He advised us to look from a distance but that they're very dangerous and we should not approach them. He explained the process, that people from all over India spend up to 500,000INR to have a body burned here and sent into the sacred river. The river is believed to be a direct portal to a better place. However, many are not burned but are sunk to the bottom after death. These include for example; death by disease, women, children, infants, and child bearing mothers.
The people of Varanasi, and India, believe the river to be so sacred they continue to bath in and drink from it. We were obviously quite shocked at this as foreigners, but when asking a local man he explained to us that it all depends on your beliefs. He said, if you believe it is infected, it will be, but if you believe it is pure, it will be. This is a fair belief in this culture, however for us, we did not drink from or bath in the waters of the Ganga. We watched in awe and were sponges for all we'd come to know.
Near the Ganga, and in Varanasi, is generally bustling with people. Everyone wants to talk and 'be your friend' but eventually they hit you with the sales pitch and if you so much as say 'maybe' that person will follow you for the rest of your day whether it be to a temple or even back to your hotel. Despite the beauty of the city and the wonderful sites we'd experienced, the days got exhausting and we decided to take a boat across the river to a sand bank that looked very empty.
On arrival, the first 10 minutes, were relatively peaceful. Making new friends with stray dogs is very easy when you have a bag full of snacks.
Not long after, a boat full of local tourists arrived in front of us. They asked to take our photos and put their children in between us. We promised only one photo but it never stops there. After many photos were taken we were hiding our faces with scarves but this didn't stop the photos from coming. When finally they'd moved on, not long after, a group of local intoxicated men showed up on motorcycles to do the same.. Needless to say, we headed back to our hotel.
I'm grateful for the memory of meeting a wonderful local man who has taken initiative in the ' Wall of Creation ' which is an area along the Ganga which was formerly used as an outdoor toilet. This young local man, not asking for any donation, had backpackers and tourists paint art on the wall and the sideways to deter people from soiling the area. At night he, and friends, hold local music shows free of charge along the Ganga. He's planted a beautiful garden and made the whole area safer and more appealing. Each year in the rainy season the water will wash away the beautiful paintings, but as the waters subside and the walkway dries, he starts over with the same goal in mind. We spent a couple of our evenings on the river bank with other tourists who'd come to hear the music. It was a little bit of peace in a hectic city.
I'll have stories to tell for a lifetime from my trip in India. Some are of beautiful wonders of the world, some are bizarre local experiences and others are of the discomforts of this country. I think all are equally valuable and important in their own way. It's essential to feel and experience other areas of the world to truly understand and respect the life I have in Canada. I feel I've had a great advantage in this sense and I wouldn't change it for anything.
