Here are a couple more pictures for your viewing pleasure.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Chappel showdown in Guntakal!
I've been experiencing extremely slow computers here in south India so I haven't had a chance to update my blog.In the meantime I have posted a poem that I really like and I hope you will enjoy as well.
It's amazing how many times I have found myself lost and have ended up right where I want to be.I spent a week in Hampi,well five days which was brilliant.My rule for traveling is if I come across more than ten pairs of those ugly garden shoes in a day,well...it's time to catch a train.I know it's sounding like I have a vendetta against the ugly garden shoes,it is true,I hate them!Lonely planet should put out a book just for those foreigners that wear ugly garden shoes,and take pictures of beggars and half dead dogs.You know,for those evenings when your sitting around the fire,with nothing better to do than to share your India experience with your friends and loved ones.
Guntakal isn't on the foreigners circus,I arrived here at 12:43 in the afternoon, free of ugly garden shoes,crazy monkeys,symphonic frogs and wild dogs.A lie,there will always be wild dogs,where ever you go in India.I set out on foot to see what Guntakal was all about.After about a half block I noticed I was being followed,actually chased,by a half dozen boys all holding a pen and a piece of paper.They wanted my autograph,it sounds absurd,but this is India and like it or not your part of the never ending circus.There is a beautiful brotherhood among Indian men and boys.A closeness that North Americans don't have,I often see Indian men holding hands with there arms draped over one another.That being said,India men can fly off the handle in a heartbeat.As I was sitting on a bench,rummaging through my man purse desperately looking for a pen.I heard what sounded like the beginnings of a heated argument.Pretty common here in India,so I decided to investigate.Two men dressed in suit and tie,both wearing chappels,hands flailing,were yelling at one another.After some preliminary shouting which led to a shove,which led to angry Indian man number one slapping angry Indian man number two.The chappels came off,well actually only one came off.AIMNO removed his left chappel and started whacking AIMNT,this went on for about a half dozen whacks on both sides.Maybe you really needed to be there,but I found this quite entertaining.Leaving the train station I went looking for a post office,
I had a couple of post-cards that needed mailing to the west coast of Canada.I walk into the post-office and there are three men sitting around drinking tea.They offer me some tea which I happily accept.So I'm at the post-office for the next two hours sitting around drinking tea and chatting with these men. While in Guntakal I went to see a Bollywood movie,there were no sub-titles and I couldn't understand a word,but you don't really need to.The plot very seldom changes,there is always the hero,who saves the girl from either being raped or beaten,than about three quarters in there will be a song and dance number,usually set someplace that makes no sense whatsoever.For example if the movie has been shot in the desert,the song and dance number will take place in the streets of Paris.In India there is a genre called Tandori Westerns,funny!
It's amazing how many times I have found myself lost and have ended up right where I want to be.I spent a week in Hampi,well five days which was brilliant.My rule for traveling is if I come across more than ten pairs of those ugly garden shoes in a day,well...it's time to catch a train.I know it's sounding like I have a vendetta against the ugly garden shoes,it is true,I hate them!Lonely planet should put out a book just for those foreigners that wear ugly garden shoes,and take pictures of beggars and half dead dogs.You know,for those evenings when your sitting around the fire,with nothing better to do than to share your India experience with your friends and loved ones.
Guntakal isn't on the foreigners circus,I arrived here at 12:43 in the afternoon, free of ugly garden shoes,crazy monkeys,symphonic frogs and wild dogs.A lie,there will always be wild dogs,where ever you go in India.I set out on foot to see what Guntakal was all about.After about a half block I noticed I was being followed,actually chased,by a half dozen boys all holding a pen and a piece of paper.They wanted my autograph,it sounds absurd,but this is India and like it or not your part of the never ending circus.There is a beautiful brotherhood among Indian men and boys.A closeness that North Americans don't have,I often see Indian men holding hands with there arms draped over one another.That being said,India men can fly off the handle in a heartbeat.As I was sitting on a bench,rummaging through my man purse desperately looking for a pen.I heard what sounded like the beginnings of a heated argument.Pretty common here in India,so I decided to investigate.Two men dressed in suit and tie,both wearing chappels,hands flailing,were yelling at one another.After some preliminary shouting which led to a shove,which led to angry Indian man number one slapping angry Indian man number two.The chappels came off,well actually only one came off.AIMNO removed his left chappel and started whacking AIMNT,this went on for about a half dozen whacks on both sides.Maybe you really needed to be there,but I found this quite entertaining.Leaving the train station I went looking for a post office,
I had a couple of post-cards that needed mailing to the west coast of Canada.I walk into the post-office and there are three men sitting around drinking tea.They offer me some tea which I happily accept.So I'm at the post-office for the next two hours sitting around drinking tea and chatting with these men. While in Guntakal I went to see a Bollywood movie,there were no sub-titles and I couldn't understand a word,but you don't really need to.The plot very seldom changes,there is always the hero,who saves the girl from either being raped or beaten,than about three quarters in there will be a song and dance number,usually set someplace that makes no sense whatsoever.For example if the movie has been shot in the desert,the song and dance number will take place in the streets of Paris.In India there is a genre called Tandori Westerns,funny!
Sunday, February 25, 2007
"Tonight I Can Write"By Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance."
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Hampi:Temple of the Monkeys!
Hampi was super relaxing.After three days of constant travel I really needed a few days just to relax,and it was on my short list of places to visit in India.Situated on a river,surrounded by dreamy boulders perched elegantly in fields upon fields of rice paddies.
There is a temple near by called the Hanumen temple,also known as the Monkey temple.I made the mistake of hiking up the steep hill with ten banana's in hand.In retrospect what the hell was I thinking?The monkeys were waiting for me,hiding in the trees,behind the rocks and up around the bend.Sending whistling messages to each other,secret monkey code that I couldn't decipher.They knew the bananas were coming,they were all set to take action.First there were two,what could two possibly do?Right!Than there were four,than six and more coming.Jumping from the tree,just missing me and the bananas,I leap out of the way.Before I could stick the bananas in my bag I was surrounded.The monkeys wanted my bananas and would stop at nothing to get them.I did try to fight them off with a sandal,but it was of no use,they laughed and took my bananas anyway.It was very sad and a bit humiliating. Sitting in the trees eating my bananas tossing the peels my way.
The next day I would get my revenge on the redassed monkeys.Arriving at the temple by mid-afternoon,I buy another ten bananas.This time concealing them in my bag,double bagging so that the monkeys wouldn't pick up the scent of there favorite food.At the top of the hill there is the temple,as well as numerous rock bridges meant for exploring the boulder strewn landscape.The monkeys don't venture across these bridges unless they have reason to.I found a nice spot to watch the sun setting,which gave me three hours to play with the monkeys.It took less than five minutes for those bratty redassed monkeys to catch sight of me and my bananas to start making tracks my way.I spent the afternoon eating bananas and watching the monkeys cross the bridge and retreat over and over again.
Hampi was also the cheapest place I had stayed,renting a bamboo hut for fifty rupees a night.Sleeping peacefully under a star filled sky,a million symphonic frogs breaking the sound of silence in the distance,waking up to a rigmarole of roosters,wild dogs and music.Even a gang of goonda monkeys couldn't ruin the tranquility called Hampi.
There is a temple near by called the Hanumen temple,also known as the Monkey temple.I made the mistake of hiking up the steep hill with ten banana's in hand.In retrospect what the hell was I thinking?The monkeys were waiting for me,hiding in the trees,behind the rocks and up around the bend.Sending whistling messages to each other,secret monkey code that I couldn't decipher.They knew the bananas were coming,they were all set to take action.First there were two,what could two possibly do?Right!Than there were four,than six and more coming.Jumping from the tree,just missing me and the bananas,I leap out of the way.Before I could stick the bananas in my bag I was surrounded.The monkeys wanted my bananas and would stop at nothing to get them.I did try to fight them off with a sandal,but it was of no use,they laughed and took my bananas anyway.It was very sad and a bit humiliating. Sitting in the trees eating my bananas tossing the peels my way.
The next day I would get my revenge on the redassed monkeys.Arriving at the temple by mid-afternoon,I buy another ten bananas.This time concealing them in my bag,double bagging so that the monkeys wouldn't pick up the scent of there favorite food.At the top of the hill there is the temple,as well as numerous rock bridges meant for exploring the boulder strewn landscape.The monkeys don't venture across these bridges unless they have reason to.I found a nice spot to watch the sun setting,which gave me three hours to play with the monkeys.It took less than five minutes for those bratty redassed monkeys to catch sight of me and my bananas to start making tracks my way.I spent the afternoon eating bananas and watching the monkeys cross the bridge and retreat over and over again.
Hampi was also the cheapest place I had stayed,renting a bamboo hut for fifty rupees a night.Sleeping peacefully under a star filled sky,a million symphonic frogs breaking the sound of silence in the distance,waking up to a rigmarole of roosters,wild dogs and music.Even a gang of goonda monkeys couldn't ruin the tranquility called Hampi.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Auroville:Vision or Cult?
Auroville,a dreamers dream,a visionaries vision,or a cultists cult?I'm still 12 kms from Auroville being bicycle rickshawed to the Ashram I will be staying at in Pondicherry.My rickshaw driver gauranteed me that he knew where it was.To get me in his rickshaw he said it would only cost me three rupees.I think he was drunk,at least he smelled like cheap Indian rum. Pondicherry is a well thought out city,that's what the signs say,yes there were signs all over town that read "Pondicherry is a well thought out city"I left Kodaikanal very early in the morning,had to change buses three times,so I was very tired by the time I arrived in Pondicherry.To tired to argue with my rickshaw driver,so I decided to go along for the adventure.He had to ask directions at least a half dozen times,pulled a U-turn right in the middle of MG road...you don't pull a u-turn in a "well thought out city" in India.We came within a pinch of getting run over by a big orange bus that had the letters J-E-S-U-S splashed across it in pink neon lettering.I screamed "ha,see that?,we almost got nailed to the cement by Jesus,brilliant!"By the time we arrived at the ashram,I was no longer tired,only curious at how much this early morning adventure was going to cost.He wanted 100 rupees,"what happened to our three rupee arrangement?"Almost getting run over by Jesus had given me the strength to hold my ground against the hustler posing as a rickshaw driver.So I offer him the change I have in my pocket,which came to a total of eleven rupees.He freaks out and pushes me...no guff!Readers I kid you not,the hustler pushes me right in front of an ashram,a spiritual house!This is not a "what would Larry do" situation,so I push past him and head to my room.He yells something at me in a strange yet beautiful language.
It's irresistibly cheap to rent a bicycle in Pondicherry,twenty rupees for the day, which comes to about fifty cents.So I pick up my Hercules old school cruiser and hit the road.My fifty cent rental had a warped front wheel and a bum pedal,I found this out after I was well on my way out of town.Threading my way through the chaotic mid-day traffic,passing a rigmarole of tea stalls,waving children,wild dogs,auto-rickshaws,juice stalls,soup stalls,cool drink points, Internet points,and all points in between.
There are approximately 1800 permanent residents living in Auroville.To live in Auroville one must meet a certain criteria or at least cultivate a higher consciousness.
In the Mother’s words, Auroville was to be “a universal township where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities.” According to the Mother, “the purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity.”
1. Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole. But to live in Auroville, one must be the willing servitor of the Divine Consciousness.
2. Auroville will be the place of an unending education, of constant progress, and a youth that never ages.
3. Auroville wants to be the bridge between the past and the future. Taking advantage of all discoveries from without and from within, Auroville will boldly spring towards future realisations.
4. Auroville will be a site of material and spiritual researches for a living embodiment of an actual Human Unity.
· Inspirational leader: The guiding force behind the conceptualization and actualization of Auroville was Mirra Alfassa (1878-1973), commonly known as the Mother. She was born in Paris and after a childhood filled with several inner experiences and visions she travelled to Pondicherry in 1914 to meet Sri Aurobindo. After the First World War, she settled in Pondicherry alongside Sri Aurobindo, who recognized her as the embodiment of the ‘Supreme Mother’. She was instrumental in marshalling the group of Sri Aurobindo’s followers and setting up both the Aurobindo ashram and Auroville. This parallels the model in most attempts at communist countries – a great motivator and doer implementing the ideas of a great thinker.
It may be noted that the purpose of Auroville is to enable the attainment of the ‘Divine Consciousness’. This attainment is supposed to be facilitated by living in a community with the characteristics described above.
I wish I could have spent more than one day in Auroville,I got the feeling that there were quite a few highly intelligent and skilled people living here.Even though the land was purchased at the end of the 60's,they only really started to build on and cultivate it 15 years ago. So is Auroville the city of the future?Only time will tell,people keep on coming and Auroville is growing,slowly,but it's still growing.
There is so much emphasis put on the poverty and the poor people of India by the west,that we fail to notice how well Indian people live together.There is a billion people here,and they know how to work together and to solve problems together.Not only that,they also know how to find joy in the simple things that life has to offer.
Pondicherry at one time was a French colony,there is still quite a bit of the flavour left over from when it was occupied by France,such as architecture,food and the police wear cute red hats.I wanted to have a glass of red wine and I made it a mission to find a restaurant that has a croque madam on there menu.The wine was ok and the croque madam was second best to Anna's at Bonjour Brioche in Toronto.
For all those interested in learning more about Auroville here is there website www.auroville.org
It's irresistibly cheap to rent a bicycle in Pondicherry,twenty rupees for the day, which comes to about fifty cents.So I pick up my Hercules old school cruiser and hit the road.My fifty cent rental had a warped front wheel and a bum pedal,I found this out after I was well on my way out of town.Threading my way through the chaotic mid-day traffic,passing a rigmarole of tea stalls,waving children,wild dogs,auto-rickshaws,juice stalls,soup stalls,cool drink points, Internet points,and all points in between.
There are approximately 1800 permanent residents living in Auroville.To live in Auroville one must meet a certain criteria or at least cultivate a higher consciousness.
In the Mother’s words, Auroville was to be “a universal township where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds, all politics and all nationalities.” According to the Mother, “the purpose of Auroville is to realise human unity.”
1. Auroville belongs to nobody in particular. Auroville belongs to humanity as a whole. But to live in Auroville, one must be the willing servitor of the Divine Consciousness.
2. Auroville will be the place of an unending education, of constant progress, and a youth that never ages.
3. Auroville wants to be the bridge between the past and the future. Taking advantage of all discoveries from without and from within, Auroville will boldly spring towards future realisations.
4. Auroville will be a site of material and spiritual researches for a living embodiment of an actual Human Unity.
· Inspirational leader: The guiding force behind the conceptualization and actualization of Auroville was Mirra Alfassa (1878-1973), commonly known as the Mother. She was born in Paris and after a childhood filled with several inner experiences and visions she travelled to Pondicherry in 1914 to meet Sri Aurobindo. After the First World War, she settled in Pondicherry alongside Sri Aurobindo, who recognized her as the embodiment of the ‘Supreme Mother’. She was instrumental in marshalling the group of Sri Aurobindo’s followers and setting up both the Aurobindo ashram and Auroville. This parallels the model in most attempts at communist countries – a great motivator and doer implementing the ideas of a great thinker.
It may be noted that the purpose of Auroville is to enable the attainment of the ‘Divine Consciousness’. This attainment is supposed to be facilitated by living in a community with the characteristics described above.
I wish I could have spent more than one day in Auroville,I got the feeling that there were quite a few highly intelligent and skilled people living here.Even though the land was purchased at the end of the 60's,they only really started to build on and cultivate it 15 years ago. So is Auroville the city of the future?Only time will tell,people keep on coming and Auroville is growing,slowly,but it's still growing.
There is so much emphasis put on the poverty and the poor people of India by the west,that we fail to notice how well Indian people live together.There is a billion people here,and they know how to work together and to solve problems together.Not only that,they also know how to find joy in the simple things that life has to offer.
Pondicherry at one time was a French colony,there is still quite a bit of the flavour left over from when it was occupied by France,such as architecture,food and the police wear cute red hats.I wanted to have a glass of red wine and I made it a mission to find a restaurant that has a croque madam on there menu.The wine was ok and the croque madam was second best to Anna's at Bonjour Brioche in Toronto.
For all those interested in learning more about Auroville here is there website www.auroville.org
I added some photo's,the first one is of two bratty monkey's sharing a banana that they stole from me,the second photo is a beautiful layout of an assortment of colourful beads,and the third is a picture of my croque madam for those that said I better get used to rice and lentils for the next four months and the last is a dog,an Aurovillian dog,a healthy dog.Auroville has a dog adoption program, which sounds pretty normal to some,though unheard of in India.
Friday, February 9, 2007
Amma The Hugging Saint
India isn't the easiest place in the world to travel.Language barriers,remembering not to drink the water and keeping a sense of humour are all important things to keep in mind while travelling in this country.I believe Kanyakumari was my last stop.From here I headed up to Manurai to see my friend Teresa before I started my slow journey Northward.Well Teresa wasn't on the mountain meditating as I had thought,she got sick.A viral infection,another hazard to traveling in India.After spending a couple of days in Madurai and having the pleasure of witnessing the healing powers of Amma "The Hugging Saint" I unfortunately didn't get a hug,call it stage fright.It was very intense,thousands of people lining up to receive a hug.All the westerners were wearing pristine white knee length shirts and white pants.They knew all the words to all of Amma's songs and the synchronised dance moves.I tried to play along but still felt like a fraud,so I hung around till it came to my turn to get up on stage to receive a hug,than I disappeared through a maze of pristine white garments,chanting and smoke.Call it magic,poof and I was gone!Luckily the fence wasn't to high and the cow was friendly.
The following morning I awoke wondering if Amma was still giving hugs.She has been known to hug all night long.
The following morning I awoke wondering if Amma was still giving hugs.She has been known to hug all night long.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
TIRUVALLUVAR
These are some pictures of Tiruvalluvar,the great Tamil Poet.The statue stands 133 feet,is made of 7000 tonnes of stone and 5000 sculptors were commissioned to build it.These photo's were taken at 6:23 in the AM,sunrise!Thirukkural,one of the greatest ethical works in the Tamil language was written by him.It consists of 133 chapters hence the height of the statue.The first part deals with (virtue),the moral value of life,the second discusses (wealth),socio economic values of life,and the third (love),depicts the psychological values of life.
Here are some famous couplets from "Thirukkural"
Learn-read,listen,do and know
So that we are cleansed of our defilement's-of desire,anger,fear,ego (assumed identities) in short any habit of mind imprisons us in the cause-effect loop.
Those which are 'knowable' or worthy of knowing,understood as anything that throws light on truth,thereby clearing all delusions.
Knowledge (knowing) must reflect in words and deeds mere erudition is not learning.Knowing must result in a transformation of self.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
A dog named Gandhi!
I truly do love India!The strap on my burgundy corduroy bag broke today.I really liked that bag,I attempted to make a strap with some special edition Macgyver gum and a fishing hook.Frustrated and feeling beaten I slump myself down on a curb,breathing in diesel exhaust,cow dung and something frying near by.Than it happened,some angelic soul on a Herculie's bicycle pulls up next to me and asks "fixing?"Looking up surveying the situation,I notice that not only is he riding a Herculie's bicycle but he has a manual sewing machine strapped to the back of his bike.So I hand over my bag,get a chai and a biscuit for myself and my mobile Taylor friend and wait.Five minutes later my bag is repaired,morale is high and I'm on my way.
Kanyakumari,the very tip of India,the lands end,a place where the moon and sun rise above three Seas,the Arabian sea,the Indian Ocean, and the Bengal Sea.There is also a Gandhi Memorial here,where Gandhi had some of his ashes spread across
the these waters.
One of my favorite Gandhi quotes,and there are many,but one of my faves is "The greatness of a nation and it's moral progress can be judged by the way it's animals are treated"maybe those pet spas that are all the rage aren't so bad after all.So I'm leaving my hotel,and I hear someone shouting "Gandhi,No!" It was the people that owned the soup stall next door,they named there dog Gandhi!
Kanyakumari,the very tip of India,the lands end,a place where the moon and sun rise above three Seas,the Arabian sea,the Indian Ocean, and the Bengal Sea.There is also a Gandhi Memorial here,where Gandhi had some of his ashes spread across
the these waters.
One of my favorite Gandhi quotes,and there are many,but one of my faves is "The greatness of a nation and it's moral progress can be judged by the way it's animals are treated"maybe those pet spas that are all the rage aren't so bad after all.So I'm leaving my hotel,and I hear someone shouting "Gandhi,No!" It was the people that owned the soup stall next door,they named there dog Gandhi!
Friday, January 19, 2007
Back to the Beach!
A few more days spent resting on a beach.I need a good balance of curry,fruit,the beach....(trail off) and the mountains!While in Kashmir I bought some honey that's been resting comfortably at the bottom of my backpack.Which brings me back to the beach...(trail off)...my first morning in Kovalam I went for breakfast and got charged an exorbitant amount for my breakfast,well by Indian standards.So instead of allowing the beach side restaurants to gouge me,I gave my business to the locals who lined the beach waiting and willing to carve me up a fruit salad for under 50 rupees,about a $1.50 Canadian.I haven't taken that many pictures,actually the few pictures I did take got erased a while back.I got in an early morning fight with technology and technology won,to be fair I hadn't had my coffee yet!My point being is I try not to take meaningless and pointless pictures.Such as the dead fish that the beach side restaurants showcase every night,or the beggar that I see every morning with no legs,or a million beautiful sunsets.Ok so I like sunsets and it's hard to screw up a photo of a beautiful sunset.You can even purchase fancy camera's with a special sunset enhancement gadget!
So I'm sitting there with my beautiful fruit salad topped with heaps of fresh coconut,and I decide to take a picture.Oh and the honey,I had this bottle of honey in my bag that I had bought in Kashmir,and it was made with marijuana.Yes a much more enjoyable breakfast without the gouging.I never ever take stupid photo's,remember?So I have my beautiful salad positioned to balance in my lap just right,and in my other hand I have my camera.Attempting to take a picture of my salad for the folks back home,with the sun beating down on me,still balancing...( trail off) "would you like me to take a picture of you and your fruit salad?"I look up,"Hi" says the stranger at the other end of the voice.I attempt to play it cool..."um yeah but no it's ok" (changing subject) boy these fruit salads are great!The strangers name is Erica,who has been in Kovalam for seven weeks doing yoga.Erica is a Canadian but has been living and working in Hawaii.
I haven't met very many Canadians or Americans while traveling in India.Heaps of Europeans and Israelis all wearing those ugly gardening shoes.Yes there very comfortable,but so are large those jumpers with the large floppy ears and a pair of purple Ali Baba pants!I also met this crazy eccentric named Normon,he kept repeating "such a scream!" over and over again.We had a beer together,he was eating french fries topped with a sunny side up egg.I ordered one as well,Normon was in the shoe business,now living in Ireland!He would say,"The English are such a bore,but the Irish are such a scream,and don't know a thing about shoes"Yes a true character that Normon was,all 5'1,seventy-four years of him.A real howl!
So I'm sitting there with my beautiful fruit salad topped with heaps of fresh coconut,and I decide to take a picture.Oh and the honey,I had this bottle of honey in my bag that I had bought in Kashmir,and it was made with marijuana.Yes a much more enjoyable breakfast without the gouging.I never ever take stupid photo's,remember?So I have my beautiful salad positioned to balance in my lap just right,and in my other hand I have my camera.Attempting to take a picture of my salad for the folks back home,with the sun beating down on me,still balancing...( trail off) "would you like me to take a picture of you and your fruit salad?"I look up,"Hi" says the stranger at the other end of the voice.I attempt to play it cool..."um yeah but no it's ok" (changing subject) boy these fruit salads are great!The strangers name is Erica,who has been in Kovalam for seven weeks doing yoga.Erica is a Canadian but has been living and working in Hawaii.
I haven't met very many Canadians or Americans while traveling in India.Heaps of Europeans and Israelis all wearing those ugly gardening shoes.Yes there very comfortable,but so are large those jumpers with the large floppy ears and a pair of purple Ali Baba pants!I also met this crazy eccentric named Normon,he kept repeating "such a scream!" over and over again.We had a beer together,he was eating french fries topped with a sunny side up egg.I ordered one as well,Normon was in the shoe business,now living in Ireland!He would say,"The English are such a bore,but the Irish are such a scream,and don't know a thing about shoes"Yes a true character that Normon was,all 5'1,seventy-four years of him.A real howl!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Munnar
The mountains that surround Munnar are flanked by tea plantations.Some of the most beautiful country I have ever laid my eyes on.The greenest of green as far as the eye can see.The air crisp,clean and pure.
I liked our bus driver,don't get me wrong he had the craze that makes riding a bus in India exciting,very intense eyes,only smiling to break into a crazy laugh.Foot to the floor,bidi hanging out of his mouth...and always a thick mustache.
Two things have worked for me since arriving in Kerala.My Russian Futurists button,Kerala has a Communist elected government.And that my name is Chris, there is an Indian movie that was released this year called kris,spelled with a K. Kris is a super hero,India's equivalent to superman.So never under estimate the power of a button and a name when traveling in India.They take there Superhero's,Gods and Politics very seriously!
There is a small restaurant in Munnar called the Bamboo Hut,it's owned by a sculptor named Isaac.Most of the restaurants in Munnar are ordinary,I noticed the Bamboo Hut the night of my arrival.It was late and after my eight hour bus ride I wanted a comfortable bed.
The next day I dropped by the Bamboo Hut,it had only been open 16 days.Issac and I hit it off immediately,the town was about to go on a one day strike.A one day shut down to protest against the communist government.The Congress party had been in power for 20 years before losing to the Communist party this past year. The leader of the Congress party had caused some trouble,I doubt it was of the drunken brawling sort,but enough to land his behind in jail.He is very popular in Munnar,my button is not!My upward nods and smiles turned to downward nods and frowns.So in protest of there leader being hauled off to jail,the town will shut down for one day.Issac assured me not to worry,drop by tomorrow and you will be taken care of.
The next day I awoke from my late night stupor of biscuits and chai,I knew that third glass of chai was a mistake,sometimes you gotta live a little.I take to the streets,and sure enough not a thing is open.There is no one around,not a soul in sight.It was a little eerie,almost as if the town had become deserted overnight.A ghost town in the span of a few hours.
I show up at the Bamboo hut and Issac asks,"how do you feel about hiking?"...Hiking?I'm all about hiking...!So we start to hike,I'm wearing my black office shoes,a toque and a blazer.Yes well prepared for hiking!After two hours of "hiking" I ask,"Are we there yet papa smurf" he doesn't understand the reference but giggles anyway,telling me we'll be in time for lunch.And tea...what about tea? Will there be tea as well?We walk through a maze of tea plantations,a tea lovers dream,the olfactory organs all charged up with clean mountainous air,tea leaves and something cooking not to far off.Up a hill,across a bridge,through a lagoon,all the while being mocked and laughed at by the crows.
We arrive at Issacs mom's place to a beautiful spread of Thali all layed out for us.
Thali is an India dish that generally consists of some rice,curd(yogurt),Dal, vegetables,chapati,papad,pickle or chutney and a sweet dish.There are different variations from region to region,North to South.It's delicious,quite filling and takes care of indecision at lunch time.
After lunch we took a walk over to Issac's grandfathers house,he looked to be around 105 and was wearing a tea towel on his head.I could tell they were very close after some conversation of what I gathered to be of a serious nature. Isaac later told me that his grandfather was happy that he had moved back to Munnar from Chennai.After tea we slowly made our way back to town,most of the trek was downhill,avoiding the lagoons and the hills,the crows still mocked and laughed at us!
I liked our bus driver,don't get me wrong he had the craze that makes riding a bus in India exciting,very intense eyes,only smiling to break into a crazy laugh.Foot to the floor,bidi hanging out of his mouth...and always a thick mustache.
Two things have worked for me since arriving in Kerala.My Russian Futurists button,Kerala has a Communist elected government.And that my name is Chris, there is an Indian movie that was released this year called kris,spelled with a K. Kris is a super hero,India's equivalent to superman.So never under estimate the power of a button and a name when traveling in India.They take there Superhero's,Gods and Politics very seriously!
There is a small restaurant in Munnar called the Bamboo Hut,it's owned by a sculptor named Isaac.Most of the restaurants in Munnar are ordinary,I noticed the Bamboo Hut the night of my arrival.It was late and after my eight hour bus ride I wanted a comfortable bed.
The next day I dropped by the Bamboo Hut,it had only been open 16 days.Issac and I hit it off immediately,the town was about to go on a one day strike.A one day shut down to protest against the communist government.The Congress party had been in power for 20 years before losing to the Communist party this past year. The leader of the Congress party had caused some trouble,I doubt it was of the drunken brawling sort,but enough to land his behind in jail.He is very popular in Munnar,my button is not!My upward nods and smiles turned to downward nods and frowns.So in protest of there leader being hauled off to jail,the town will shut down for one day.Issac assured me not to worry,drop by tomorrow and you will be taken care of.
The next day I awoke from my late night stupor of biscuits and chai,I knew that third glass of chai was a mistake,sometimes you gotta live a little.I take to the streets,and sure enough not a thing is open.There is no one around,not a soul in sight.It was a little eerie,almost as if the town had become deserted overnight.A ghost town in the span of a few hours.
I show up at the Bamboo hut and Issac asks,"how do you feel about hiking?"...Hiking?I'm all about hiking...!So we start to hike,I'm wearing my black office shoes,a toque and a blazer.Yes well prepared for hiking!After two hours of "hiking" I ask,"Are we there yet papa smurf" he doesn't understand the reference but giggles anyway,telling me we'll be in time for lunch.And tea...what about tea? Will there be tea as well?We walk through a maze of tea plantations,a tea lovers dream,the olfactory organs all charged up with clean mountainous air,tea leaves and something cooking not to far off.Up a hill,across a bridge,through a lagoon,all the while being mocked and laughed at by the crows.
We arrive at Issacs mom's place to a beautiful spread of Thali all layed out for us.
Thali is an India dish that generally consists of some rice,curd(yogurt),Dal, vegetables,chapati,papad,pickle or chutney and a sweet dish.There are different variations from region to region,North to South.It's delicious,quite filling and takes care of indecision at lunch time.
After lunch we took a walk over to Issac's grandfathers house,he looked to be around 105 and was wearing a tea towel on his head.I could tell they were very close after some conversation of what I gathered to be of a serious nature. Isaac later told me that his grandfather was happy that he had moved back to Munnar from Chennai.After tea we slowly made our way back to town,most of the trek was downhill,avoiding the lagoons and the hills,the crows still mocked and laughed at us!
Thursday, January 11, 2007
TRIVANDRUM (TRIVI)
Trivandrum is the capital of Kerala,a busy city.I arrived the day after Saddam Husein met his demise at the end of a rope.I know this because it was all over the news and there a mock body hanging in front of the Secretary Generals residence on Mahatma Gandhi RD.There was a picture of George Bush pasted to the face of the body.A bold statement!
I had read about these restaurants in South India where the recipes are all bases on naturopathic principles.I was even more intrigued when I learned that the food was prepared without the use of flavour enhancers such as onion,garlic,sugar or Tamarind.They started me off with six vitamin packed juices,which I was to consume in a strict order.One tasted like a banana smoothie,while the next tasted more like soup,I couldn't pinpoint the spices that were being used,only that they were good for me.After taking my juice like a good little boy,the glasses were taken away and replaced with a banana leaf.For the next half hour or so I was fed delicious salads,dahls and other mysterious vegetarian dishes.I did attempt to ask what I was eating,all I got was a smile and a wink.
That afternoon I ate a lot of food,very good food,likely the most nutritious meal I have ever had.What did it cost?50 rupees,which amounts to approximately $1.50 Canadian.I still couldn't get out of them what was in the food.I paid my money to a man who I think was the owner,he only spoke Hindi and looked a lot like Allen Ginsberg or possibly Tommy Chong.
I was met by the team as I arrived at the tourney.I had walked there,I walk everywhere in India.Khursheed and the team were elated to see me,and I was happy to be there.Utter Pradesh had made it to the finals all except for the 14-18 boys doubles team.Tamil Nadu had beaten them out...the enemy!
The first thing I noticed when I walked through the doors was the Tamil Nadu coach throwing a hissy fit screaming something in Tamil.He was upset with the officiating.
I sit to watch the first game....
The board is doused with a white powder to give it a sleek slippery playing surface.We break first...a solid break!Two whites go down...After watching a few games I'm amazed at the accuracy and skill of these kids.Making triple combo's,defence,three banks to win the game.All the principles,skill and geometry that makes pool exciting.
A confession....
When arriving home late at night from the bar,a friends or a late night walk,I secretly hope that there is a 9 ball game on the sports network for me to watch before retiring to bed.
So the matches consist of three games,best two out of three wins!Each game is played to 25 points or eight racks,whichever comes first!Your points equal the number of tiles your opponent has left on the table.You each start with eight tiles,and there is a red tile placed in the center of the rack,called the queen.The queen is worth three points and has to be followed by another tile to count,if you miss the follow up,the queen is taken out and placed in the middle.Got it?
The score is one game a piece,both players have just returned from a 15 minute recess.I have just returned from shaking hands and acquiring business cards from every carom official both sides of the Ganges.The United States has a carom team but Canada does not.I have been chosen to bring carom to Canada.Apparently my keen interest in the game had not gone unnoticed.
Tamil Nadu breaks,nothing goes down.The winner advances into the quarter finals.Utter Pradesh misses the next shot.The Tamil Nadu player goes on to sink four tiles including the red.After the first set the score is 11-0 for Tamil Nadu.I look up to see there coach gloating. The next set we score 8 points.After a back and forth joust and tug of war the score is 23-21 for Tamil Nadu,half the hall is watching the game.I have been given a ringside seat.We sink the first four tiles,Tamil Nadu comes back and sinks three plus the queen.They miss the next shot,we sink two more.There next shot is blocked by one of our tiles.Strategically set up on our last play.The next shot is crucial,the money shot!Two banks off there tile and in,were now in position to win the game.I look up and catch the eye of the Tamil Nadu coach,he is no longer gloating,I smile and wave.The last tile drops,we win!
Over the next three days Utter Pradesh went on to win three first place trophies and a second place.There trip had been a success and I was given the title of honorary coach.Not that any of these highly skilled players needed any help from me,I was just happy to be there.I even got the chance to play a little Carom with Khursheed.On my way back up North I may visit them in Allahabad.That is the where the Kuma Mela,the largest Hindu religious gathering in the world will take place this year.Every Sadhu both sides of the Mississippi and the Ganges will be there.as well as astrologers,fire walkers,story tellers and about 10 million Hindu's.
Now I leave for Munnar,a place in the sky where they grow tea!!
I had read about these restaurants in South India where the recipes are all bases on naturopathic principles.I was even more intrigued when I learned that the food was prepared without the use of flavour enhancers such as onion,garlic,sugar or Tamarind.They started me off with six vitamin packed juices,which I was to consume in a strict order.One tasted like a banana smoothie,while the next tasted more like soup,I couldn't pinpoint the spices that were being used,only that they were good for me.After taking my juice like a good little boy,the glasses were taken away and replaced with a banana leaf.For the next half hour or so I was fed delicious salads,dahls and other mysterious vegetarian dishes.I did attempt to ask what I was eating,all I got was a smile and a wink.
That afternoon I ate a lot of food,very good food,likely the most nutritious meal I have ever had.What did it cost?50 rupees,which amounts to approximately $1.50 Canadian.I still couldn't get out of them what was in the food.I paid my money to a man who I think was the owner,he only spoke Hindi and looked a lot like Allen Ginsberg or possibly Tommy Chong.
I was met by the team as I arrived at the tourney.I had walked there,I walk everywhere in India.Khursheed and the team were elated to see me,and I was happy to be there.Utter Pradesh had made it to the finals all except for the 14-18 boys doubles team.Tamil Nadu had beaten them out...the enemy!
The first thing I noticed when I walked through the doors was the Tamil Nadu coach throwing a hissy fit screaming something in Tamil.He was upset with the officiating.
I sit to watch the first game....
The board is doused with a white powder to give it a sleek slippery playing surface.We break first...a solid break!Two whites go down...After watching a few games I'm amazed at the accuracy and skill of these kids.Making triple combo's,defence,three banks to win the game.All the principles,skill and geometry that makes pool exciting.
A confession....
When arriving home late at night from the bar,a friends or a late night walk,I secretly hope that there is a 9 ball game on the sports network for me to watch before retiring to bed.
So the matches consist of three games,best two out of three wins!Each game is played to 25 points or eight racks,whichever comes first!Your points equal the number of tiles your opponent has left on the table.You each start with eight tiles,and there is a red tile placed in the center of the rack,called the queen.The queen is worth three points and has to be followed by another tile to count,if you miss the follow up,the queen is taken out and placed in the middle.Got it?
The score is one game a piece,both players have just returned from a 15 minute recess.I have just returned from shaking hands and acquiring business cards from every carom official both sides of the Ganges.The United States has a carom team but Canada does not.I have been chosen to bring carom to Canada.Apparently my keen interest in the game had not gone unnoticed.
Tamil Nadu breaks,nothing goes down.The winner advances into the quarter finals.Utter Pradesh misses the next shot.The Tamil Nadu player goes on to sink four tiles including the red.After the first set the score is 11-0 for Tamil Nadu.I look up to see there coach gloating. The next set we score 8 points.After a back and forth joust and tug of war the score is 23-21 for Tamil Nadu,half the hall is watching the game.I have been given a ringside seat.We sink the first four tiles,Tamil Nadu comes back and sinks three plus the queen.They miss the next shot,we sink two more.There next shot is blocked by one of our tiles.Strategically set up on our last play.The next shot is crucial,the money shot!Two banks off there tile and in,were now in position to win the game.I look up and catch the eye of the Tamil Nadu coach,he is no longer gloating,I smile and wave.The last tile drops,we win!
Over the next three days Utter Pradesh went on to win three first place trophies and a second place.There trip had been a success and I was given the title of honorary coach.Not that any of these highly skilled players needed any help from me,I was just happy to be there.I even got the chance to play a little Carom with Khursheed.On my way back up North I may visit them in Allahabad.That is the where the Kuma Mela,the largest Hindu religious gathering in the world will take place this year.Every Sadhu both sides of the Mississippi and the Ganges will be there.as well as astrologers,fire walkers,story tellers and about 10 million Hindu's.
Now I leave for Munnar,a place in the sky where they grow tea!!
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
VARKALA
So I hopped a train,saying goodbye to the ganga,the chess players and the great Sadhu's that line the river bed.Oh and I can't forget about the holy shit,the little old man with the tea towel turban,the Merudi guesthouse and the German that threw his passport into the river screaming that he's renouncing the world forever and ever and evermore!.My train sped off with the ferocity that only an Indian train can,the ocean in it's sights,steam rolling along to it's destination thirty eight hours later. Goodbye Varanasi!!!
Finding my bunk on the train,I quickly made some new friends introducing my chessboard as my travelling companion.The chess and card games made the hours pass and took us into the night.Khursheed and his family spoke very little Hindi or english,there first language was Tamil.But it didn't seem to matter,the will to learn and patience broke through our communication barrier.
They were heading to Trivandrum for the Junior Carrom Championships.Which is a game played by flicking coins into a pocket,and are identical to Checker pieces.You strike the coin into the pocket using your finger as your striker.It's also called finger billiards.Well after some explaining I was convinced that this was a game I could be interested in,so I promised I would show up in Trivandrum at the competition by the 3rd of January.First I had a date with the ocean and the sun that I just could not bring myself to break.
So Khursheed and his family of carrom players got off in Trivandrum and I continued on toward Eravikulam.That is where my ticket was made out to.All I wanted was a beach,a palm tree and some fresh pineapple.I was now riding in a car with forty men that were on a pilgimage.It seemed more like a party than a pilgrimage,but hey what do I know about pilgrims!They were all computer software programmers from Bangalore.They've been doing this for the last seventeen years.No women,only the men!
I switched bunks so they could all be together.Myself and another girl were the only non pilgrims in the car.She was coming from Chennai,a university student on her way home to visit her family.We talked about Ghandi,the political situation in Kerala and how much cleaner Kerala is compared to the rest of India.There slogan is "Gods own Country" which I was quick to repeat to anyone throwing garbage out the trains window.She also spoke of a place called silent valley,it's claim is to be so silent that you can't even hear the crickets cricketing.I suggested that maybe the crickets took a vow of silence.God I crack myself up sometimes!
I decided to get off at Varkala,a couple stops after my scheduled stop.I hadn't seen the ticket inspector in awhile so I figured that I was safe.I said goodbye to the pilgrims and my non pilgrim friend.Hopped off the train,bought a juice and a bunch of banana's and set off on foot.
Arriving in Varkala the day before New Years eve without a hotel booked was not a good idea.Although they were totally full till the middle of January the people at Jicky's guest house were kind enough to let me use there phone and store my backpack till I secured a place to stay.Which I did!Next door at a place called Bina's.Actually it was more of a shack than a room,and it came with colourful giant red ants,spiders the size of small puppies,a giant cockaroacha that flies and skitters and a rat that only comes out at night...how thoughtful!On the advice of a well travelled friend and woman of the world.I decided to give my friends names.The giant red army ants will be the home team,than there is Ratzo Rizo, Connor the cockaroacha and I will give honourable mention to Sal the saavy Salamander.
There was another girl staying at Bina's who had like me,not booked a room and was a bit stranded.She was a little bit choked when I told her I was only paying 150 rupees/night,that is until she saw what I was getting for my 150 rupees.Quickly her average room turned into the penthouse suite.Tressa(Irish for Teresa)was on a holiday,three weeks in total.We wandered the beach,ate some fresh pineapple and exchanged stories.Another friend that I hadn't seen in over two years was coming to Varkala to spend New years with me.We last saw each other in Victoria,BC,both of us at the time expressing a keen interest in coming to India.Two and a half years later we land in India within a month of one another.
Tressa and Teresa got on well,having quite a bit in common.We made a plan to be enjoying an oceanside fish dinner come New Years eve.The water was warm and lovely,the three of us walked along the beach in silence with only the sounds of fireworks and the waves crashing on the beach to fill the quiet night.
The next day I slept in till 10 in the AM.Starting out in Kashmir waking up at 5am every morning I had worked up till 10am.Teresa and I had made a plan to start the year off with a three day juice fast.There is a juice bar on every corner in India...are Lassi's ok?We decided that yes Lassi's were ok.Ghandi would fast every Monday and take a vow of silence only communicating through the written word and hand gestures.
Teresa needed to get back to work and I had a Carrom championship to attend.I love the freedom that travelling alone allows.Jumping on and off trains,attending Carrom championships,taking in a beach,fasting....ahh life is truly beautiful!
Finding my bunk on the train,I quickly made some new friends introducing my chessboard as my travelling companion.The chess and card games made the hours pass and took us into the night.Khursheed and his family spoke very little Hindi or english,there first language was Tamil.But it didn't seem to matter,the will to learn and patience broke through our communication barrier.
They were heading to Trivandrum for the Junior Carrom Championships.Which is a game played by flicking coins into a pocket,and are identical to Checker pieces.You strike the coin into the pocket using your finger as your striker.It's also called finger billiards.Well after some explaining I was convinced that this was a game I could be interested in,so I promised I would show up in Trivandrum at the competition by the 3rd of January.First I had a date with the ocean and the sun that I just could not bring myself to break.
So Khursheed and his family of carrom players got off in Trivandrum and I continued on toward Eravikulam.That is where my ticket was made out to.All I wanted was a beach,a palm tree and some fresh pineapple.I was now riding in a car with forty men that were on a pilgimage.It seemed more like a party than a pilgrimage,but hey what do I know about pilgrims!They were all computer software programmers from Bangalore.They've been doing this for the last seventeen years.No women,only the men!
I switched bunks so they could all be together.Myself and another girl were the only non pilgrims in the car.She was coming from Chennai,a university student on her way home to visit her family.We talked about Ghandi,the political situation in Kerala and how much cleaner Kerala is compared to the rest of India.There slogan is "Gods own Country" which I was quick to repeat to anyone throwing garbage out the trains window.She also spoke of a place called silent valley,it's claim is to be so silent that you can't even hear the crickets cricketing.I suggested that maybe the crickets took a vow of silence.God I crack myself up sometimes!
I decided to get off at Varkala,a couple stops after my scheduled stop.I hadn't seen the ticket inspector in awhile so I figured that I was safe.I said goodbye to the pilgrims and my non pilgrim friend.Hopped off the train,bought a juice and a bunch of banana's and set off on foot.
Arriving in Varkala the day before New Years eve without a hotel booked was not a good idea.Although they were totally full till the middle of January the people at Jicky's guest house were kind enough to let me use there phone and store my backpack till I secured a place to stay.Which I did!Next door at a place called Bina's.Actually it was more of a shack than a room,and it came with colourful giant red ants,spiders the size of small puppies,a giant cockaroacha that flies and skitters and a rat that only comes out at night...how thoughtful!On the advice of a well travelled friend and woman of the world.I decided to give my friends names.The giant red army ants will be the home team,than there is Ratzo Rizo, Connor the cockaroacha and I will give honourable mention to Sal the saavy Salamander.
There was another girl staying at Bina's who had like me,not booked a room and was a bit stranded.She was a little bit choked when I told her I was only paying 150 rupees/night,that is until she saw what I was getting for my 150 rupees.Quickly her average room turned into the penthouse suite.Tressa(Irish for Teresa)was on a holiday,three weeks in total.We wandered the beach,ate some fresh pineapple and exchanged stories.Another friend that I hadn't seen in over two years was coming to Varkala to spend New years with me.We last saw each other in Victoria,BC,both of us at the time expressing a keen interest in coming to India.Two and a half years later we land in India within a month of one another.
Tressa and Teresa got on well,having quite a bit in common.We made a plan to be enjoying an oceanside fish dinner come New Years eve.The water was warm and lovely,the three of us walked along the beach in silence with only the sounds of fireworks and the waves crashing on the beach to fill the quiet night.
The next day I slept in till 10 in the AM.Starting out in Kashmir waking up at 5am every morning I had worked up till 10am.Teresa and I had made a plan to start the year off with a three day juice fast.There is a juice bar on every corner in India...are Lassi's ok?We decided that yes Lassi's were ok.Ghandi would fast every Monday and take a vow of silence only communicating through the written word and hand gestures.
Teresa needed to get back to work and I had a Carrom championship to attend.I love the freedom that travelling alone allows.Jumping on and off trains,attending Carrom championships,taking in a beach,fasting....ahh life is truly beautiful!
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Ganges purples,pinks and,Blues
India is a carnival of sights and sounds.A circus every single day!A festival of colour,a festival music,a sadhu festival,a festival for astrologers,a festival for textiles,jugglers,a festival for dancers.No admission needed,just walk out into the street and it's all there waiting for you.
India is best discovered by foot and when your shoes wear out there will be someone who is willing to fix them,for a few rupees of course.I didn't bother bringing any special shoes to India,and I've done heaps of walking.The soul of my one shoe cracked when I was in Varanasi,I discovered this one fine day,when stepping in Cow shit.Swearing has never really been my thing,however I may have cursed and said something to the extent of "shit,goddamn,fucking cow!",and as I was saying it I looked up and locked eyes with the cutest little old man wearing a tea towel on his head.He simply said "holy shit,good luck!"This is the beauty of India!
Varanasi one of the oldest and holiest cities in all of India,it's five thousand years old,furthermore that's five thousand years of recorded time.So who knows how old the city actually is.The town lies along the Ganges,which may be one of the most polluted bodies of water in the world,this doesn't stop the people of Varanasi from drinking it,bathing in it,washing there dishes or just taking a mid-afternoon dip,this is what I call faith!
You really feel the heaviness of the place.At the one end is the burning ghat where the Hindu's bring there dead to be cremated.You are strictly forbidden to take pictures.A Japanese couple either forgot to read this in there Japanese version of lonely planet or they decided to ignore the rule.They got hauled off to jail.I used to live in Ottawa and it would just about kill me to watch Japanese tourists posing with the decorative guards in front of the governor generals residence.Which makes me wonder if the same goes for burning bodies in Varanasi.
Along the river hundreds of flowers with candles are set adrift that you light at sun set.A large bell was ringing sending vibrating messages across Mother Ganga.There was chanting coming from all directions,mixed in with the beautiful sounds of sitars and strange instruments.Everything was illuminated with sound and colour,I tried to imagine what Varanasi was like five thousand years ago.Nothing has changed,only the faces.
The morning time by the river is magical,waking up at five AM and walking down to the river,having a chai and a thought.The river is set aglow with shades of purple,pinks and blues,a collaborative effort between the morning sun and the ghats that line the Ganges.
Down around the ghats at night there is a big chess scene.Chess originated in India and some say that playing cards was derived from chess.I got in the habit of coming down at night and playing with the locals.I was at a bit of a disadvantage not knowing Hindi.During these games it was the norm to have a crowd of twenty or more watching the game shouting random moves out or even reaching over and moving your pieces for you.The wins and losses bounced back and forth.With each loss came chants of "India,India,India!!!".I enjoyed my time in Varanasi and may return before heading back to Canada.
Before coming to India I loaded up my i-pod for those long train hauls.I haven't really used it much,If you haven't listened to "A meeting by the River" it's an album by Vishua Mohan Bhatt and Ry Cooder.You must own this record.I walked up and down the river from Ghat to Ghat listening to this.Track three Ganges delta blues will blow your mind!
India is best discovered by foot and when your shoes wear out there will be someone who is willing to fix them,for a few rupees of course.I didn't bother bringing any special shoes to India,and I've done heaps of walking.The soul of my one shoe cracked when I was in Varanasi,I discovered this one fine day,when stepping in Cow shit.Swearing has never really been my thing,however I may have cursed and said something to the extent of "shit,goddamn,fucking cow!",and as I was saying it I looked up and locked eyes with the cutest little old man wearing a tea towel on his head.He simply said "holy shit,good luck!"This is the beauty of India!
Varanasi one of the oldest and holiest cities in all of India,it's five thousand years old,furthermore that's five thousand years of recorded time.So who knows how old the city actually is.The town lies along the Ganges,which may be one of the most polluted bodies of water in the world,this doesn't stop the people of Varanasi from drinking it,bathing in it,washing there dishes or just taking a mid-afternoon dip,this is what I call faith!
You really feel the heaviness of the place.At the one end is the burning ghat where the Hindu's bring there dead to be cremated.You are strictly forbidden to take pictures.A Japanese couple either forgot to read this in there Japanese version of lonely planet or they decided to ignore the rule.They got hauled off to jail.I used to live in Ottawa and it would just about kill me to watch Japanese tourists posing with the decorative guards in front of the governor generals residence.Which makes me wonder if the same goes for burning bodies in Varanasi.
Along the river hundreds of flowers with candles are set adrift that you light at sun set.A large bell was ringing sending vibrating messages across Mother Ganga.There was chanting coming from all directions,mixed in with the beautiful sounds of sitars and strange instruments.Everything was illuminated with sound and colour,I tried to imagine what Varanasi was like five thousand years ago.Nothing has changed,only the faces.
The morning time by the river is magical,waking up at five AM and walking down to the river,having a chai and a thought.The river is set aglow with shades of purple,pinks and blues,a collaborative effort between the morning sun and the ghats that line the Ganges.
Down around the ghats at night there is a big chess scene.Chess originated in India and some say that playing cards was derived from chess.I got in the habit of coming down at night and playing with the locals.I was at a bit of a disadvantage not knowing Hindi.During these games it was the norm to have a crowd of twenty or more watching the game shouting random moves out or even reaching over and moving your pieces for you.The wins and losses bounced back and forth.With each loss came chants of "India,India,India!!!".I enjoyed my time in Varanasi and may return before heading back to Canada.
Before coming to India I loaded up my i-pod for those long train hauls.I haven't really used it much,If you haven't listened to "A meeting by the River" it's an album by Vishua Mohan Bhatt and Ry Cooder.You must own this record.I walked up and down the river from Ghat to Ghat listening to this.Track three Ganges delta blues will blow your mind!
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