Agra

I had to leave Varasani at some point, though I could have stayed longer. I boarded a train and headed for Agra.

Anyway, I boarded the train, only to find that I had been put in a part of the train with all the tourists. The ride wasn't too bad, I got some sleep, sat and talked a little bit, and then we arrived in Agra. You could see the Taj Mahal almost immediately. I shared a tuk tuk with another guy to the guesthouse. We arrived and after checking in, I checked out the rooftop view. It was AMAZING! The Taj Mahal looks exactly like in the pictures! I was feeling pretty tired and weak, left over from being sick. I fell asleep and basically slept the whole day. At night, I went to the top of the guesthouse to eat and look at the view again. It was pretty cloudy out, but still as the sky changed colors from the slow descent of the sun, so did the Taj. It turned shades of blue and then shades of purple. Even in the darkness of night the Taj can be seen pretty clearly. I vowed not to sleep the following day and go see the Taj up close.

In the morning, I woke up still feeling pretty weak but knowing that I wanted to leave Agra the following day. I rustled myself out of bed, took a cold shower (feels wonderful in the heat of the Monsoon season), and headed out to see this magnificent building. I'm not one to be particularly impressed by architecture, but the Taj Mahal is an exception. And to think about the man-power and labor that went into constructing this building is insane. You walk through the entrance and you are immediately inside a post card. You know the one, with the water leading up to the Taj. People are taking all sorts of fun pictures. This is unfortunately the only point that I got a picture of myself with the Taj because my batteries died before I left. I walked down the steps and found my way to the entrance of the actual building, after taking off my shoes, of course. The marble and intricately inlaid stones into beautiful flower designs are seriously impressive. I walked around and looked at everything, but in light of my utter exhaustion, I felt like I couldn't appreciate it the way I wanted to. I walked towards the exit and was happy to see people sitting and laying down in the shade of the Taj, enjoying the cool marble. I joined the crowds and passed out in my little corner. Once I got up, I was feeling a bit better and decided to go through the Taj again. I took my time looking at the flower designs and beautiful Arabic in the marble. I then walked out and into part of the gardens in front of the Taj. This is when I found myself looking back to make sure this majestic building was really there. It had a strange translucence to me. As if it could be a mirage in the dehydrated mind of a human in the desert. I sat on a bench and just enjoyed the scenery filled with interested Indians and foreigners admiring the Taj and the beautiful trees, plants, and tiny squirrels. I allowed some Indians to take pictures with me, wrote in my journal, people-watched, watched people watching me, and admired the beauty of the three great buildings in sight. Once I got up, I wandered around the Mosque and the 'other' building (built for symmetry), looked around the not as impressive museum, and wandered along the wall of Indian sights to see. Eventually, I was hesitant to leave, but it was time for me to head back for a skype meeting.

The next day, I left Agra. There's not a whole lot in Agra, but there is ruins of an ancient town not too far out the city and also the Agra Fort that people visit. I wouldn't have minded seeing these things, but wasn't set on them either. I decided to concern my energy and hop on a train to Delhi, where I could rest a bit and get ready to head to Dharamsala.

Once again, I bought the lowest class ticket and bumped it up once the train came. Part of me almost feels guilty for doing this, like I should just ride in the lowest class.... I will at some point of my trip, when I don't have a giant bag. The lower class tickets are standing room only, and you know those pictures you see of people in India stuffed into and hanging out of buses? Well, it's like that, but in a train and VERY hot! It almost reminds me of some pictures from the holocaust of people stuffed in trains, but there are windows and these people are free to get on and off as they please.

I am in Delhi now and will see some of the cool things here, but so far have just been resting up.

The Burning Ghat

Varanasi:

According to the Lonely Planet India, otherwise known as "my bible", Varanasi is one of the oldest consistently inhabited cities in the world. It has been knocked down and rebuilt a few times, but it continues to exist. If I remember correctly, the ancient name of Varanasi is Kashi... google it.

I arrived to Varanasi so proud of myself that I had gotten on the right train and gotten off at the right stop all by myself. I was immediately shuffled into an auto-rickshaw by a guy trying to convince me to stay at a guesthouse of his friend. I emphatically declined and was convinced to stay at the guesthouse that works with the Brown Bread Bakery, a German organization who engages in development work and receives a percentage of the guesthouse bill for the Live for Life (something like that) foundation. The rickshaw-wallah (man) drops me off in front of an alley telling me at 5am that I need to wander down these alleys to find the right place. After some hesitation, I pay the man and head down the alleys. Within 10 minutes, I feel a bucket of presumably dirty water being dumped on my head. I was pissed! I look up see someone's linens out to dry and I assume that's where the water came from. On purpose or a thoughtless mistake, I don't really care. Luckily, I'm already filthy from the travel and the hot muggy weather. I continue down this maze of back alleys and tiny streets littered with sleeping people, and ask a few people along the way where this bakery is. Most aren't so sure. A very short man in a surong is trying to convince me to follow him, saying their are 3 guesthouses when I run into Spanish guys looking for the same bakery. I tell them that I'm a little uncomfortable and am gonna stick with them, only to have them wish me well on my way. (in my head at this moment: F this city, I'm gonna see the burning places and get the heck out of here!) I follow the short man and eventually the Spanish guys show up again headed to the same guesthouse I am and invite me to join them in checking that one out. We head in, I check out a few rooms and pick one. I shower and sleep.

When I wake up, I'm feeling a bit groggy and read the Varanasi chapter in the Lonely Planet. I basically just wander out of the guesthouse to start figuring out where the heck I am. I am immediately shuffled into a massive crowd of people heading towards the fires. Dead bodies burning. I get skiddish and convince this 'guide man' that I'd rather watch from afar, with respect to the families, and secretly for my own comfort. I finally rid myself of this mans unwanted company and start heading back to my guesthouse in an effort to make sure I remembered where it was. Before I get there, another guy starts talking to me. I start to brush him off when he starts saying, "that's the problem with you tourists. You want to come see the sights, but you don't want to learn. Why did you come to India?" I eventually let this guy talk me into sitting for a cup of chai (tea) and I'm glad I did. This guy was actually really cool. I met a few of his friends and spent the next few days hangin around the city with them.

On my first day there, I attended a Shivah ceremony filled with smoke, loud drums, incense, an old holy man with grey dreads, and the loud chimming of the thick bronze bells. We were in a circle in the small Shivah temple. Outside the window was a few other foreigners sitting and listening to a man explain to them about the burning ghat. Past them was the ritual burning of bodies.

Here's what I learned:

The bodies must be burned within 24 hours of death. The family pays for the wood, which is relatively cheap, and the bodies take about 4 hours to burn. The family stays in the area while the body is burning and take the time to wash in the Ganga (Ganges). On women, the hips are the last thing to complete burning and on men, it is their chest. This is because the chest is most strong in men from hard work and the hips are most strong in women from child birth. After the burning of the body, the family returns to someone's home for a small ceremony. The women do not attend the burning because one time a women jumped in the fire. Also, nobody cries. Tears are believed to taint the burning in some way (i forget exactly). The bodies are burned to get rid of the person's sins before they are returned to where they came from, the Ganga. There are 4 types of bodies that are not burned because they are already pure: a pregnant women, a child, a person with lepracy, a Brahmin, or a holy man. These bodies are brought on the same stretchers as the burning bodies but are wrapped in a light cloth. They are then tied to a large cement slab and some of the family takes the body on a boat to the middle of the river, where the body is ceremoniously dropped into the water. Sometimes, the bodies come undone from the cement and this is when you see bodies floating down the river. The Ganga is seen as the holy Mother for people all over India. The people who have the job of actually burning the bodies are of a lower class. They gather the ashes and empty them into the Ganga, also sifting for gold. If bones are found not fully cremated, they are taken on a boat and dropped in the middle of the Ganga. Also, every evening there is a ceremony performed by two Brahmins that is dedicated to the Ganga.

Spending time in Varasani, it is impossible not to see the procession of a family chanting a mantra, carrying the body of a loved-one on a bamboo-made stretcher. The body is cover with a bright, gold colored cloth. I think they burn at least a hundred bodies a day at the burning ghat, the main holy burning sight. There are many other places throughout India that are appropriate for burning, but this one has a special significance. It is inappropriate for people to take pictures of the burnings or of the procession of the dead bodies.

The city of Varanasi is a mix of tiny old streets, almost resembling those of parts of old Jerusalem. The streets are packed with people and lined with food, cotton clothing, and silk shops. There also cows and buffalo who add to this interesting little place. I loved sitting on the empty steps of an unused building, sipping chai and watching as the buffalo wade in the water. They dip there heads just slightly and seem to be in utter enjoyment as the cool water slides over their face. I didn't know until this trip that buffalo and cows could swim. This is the high season for the Ganga and it was interesting to see pictures of beach and parts of the city that are under water 3 months out of the year. Everything moves up, into the city as the water rises. A friend explained to me that normally, the burnings are much lower and they are separated by class. He said one thing he liked about this time of year is that all the burnings are done together, regardless of class. This is the young person's mind next to ancient tradition.

Closing note for this blog session

I'm now in Veranasi, where they burn the bodies at the Ganges. I seriously hated it the first hour I was here, but have grown to really like it a lot. I leave in 2 days for Agra to see the Taj Mahal.

I could write forever. Some things I would write about:

-All the crazy ideas and warnings about India have not been validated to me yet. I have had no harassment, have taken risks, and have met some really awesome and fun people.

-Food: it's not what we, Americans, think of when we think of Indian food.

-Diversity: India is INCREDIBLY diverse in land, people, and culture


Namaste

Is this your first time to India? (asked so much its almost like another saying)

I arrived in Bodhgaya at night time, not a clue where my guesthouse was. I started asking around and after heading down what seemed like a shady street, I headed to an internet cafe and the nice boys working there called the guesthouse. They explained it was down that street that I wasn't so comfortable with, but when I didn't seem happy about that they directed me to a closer guesthouse. I followed their instructions and what invited on the motorcycle of an Indian man. I am hesitant to get on Motorcycles and even more hesitant a motorcycle of a random man in the middle of the night. He saw this and rode slowly until we found another foreigner walking on the street who was headed to the same guesthouse. I went with her and we found our way, thanks to my handy headlamp. I checked in and retired for the night. The next day, I read the chapter in the lonely planet and set out for whatever was to come. I headed to the Bodhi tree and temple where Siddartha is said to have achieved enlightenment, becoming the buddha. On my way there, tons of people tried to sell me things, offered me a tuk tuk, and even to show my way to the tree. These two boys started walking with me. At first, I was somewhat annoyed, knowing I wasn't going to give them any money for a "tour". Then they talked about practicing their English and I remembered a good friend of mine in the Peace Corps who lived in a nearby town that had a major tourist sight for Mongolia. Her English students would hang around the monastery and practice their English with the tourists. I talked to them for a minute while I walked to the enterance of the temple and left them there. I entered and noticed the tourists from all over India and the world. There was a huge delegation of Sri Lankans engaged in a pilgrimage to this holy site. I sat at the tree for a while and appreciated all the worshipers. It didn't take long for one of my friends from outside to find me with his other friend. I sat and talked to them for a while and people would come up and for a photo with me. I agreed and my new friends explained that they were from other parts of India and had probably never seen a white person before. I spent the whole day walking and talking with my new friends, who ask people for money for their school, but they never did ask me for $. They explained to me how the felt about tourists. The state of Bihar is one of the poorest states in India and some of the scenery in the state is that you would find when looking at pictures of Africa. People just as dark as Africa, carrying things on their heads, colorful saris, working hard, and extreme poverty. Bodhgaya is filled with monasteries built in the cultural fashion of many different countries. I visited most of them in one day, and the last 2 another day. There is also a giant statue of the Buddha, which I found somewhat less impressive, but other people really enjoyed. It's neat to look at, but seems a little anti-buddha to me. Bodhgaya was a very interesting place, but I was sick and the mosquitos drove me absolutely insane.

Everything's Possible in India (an Indian saying) Sub Cuch Milega (in Hindi)

The way out of Darjeeling was an adventure. I was told there was a bus leaving from a nearby town, Siliguri, every half hour until 8pm. They lady even called to confirm. Apparently she didn't call the bus people because I arrived at 630 (already dark) and the last bus heading toward my next destination was sitting full, ready to head out. I tried and tried to talk my way into a seat on the bus and was sent back and forth in the night, talking to different people to figure out what to do. I finally accepted the fact that I was not getting on that bus and started asking about trains. Supposedly, there was a train leaving at 10pm from the nearby train station, but I couldn't confirm this until I went to the train station. Rickshaw and tuk tuk drivers tried to get me to pay 100 and 150 rupees to get to the train station. I held off and paid 20 in the end. I arrived at the train station and stepped over people selling vegetables in the street, through tuk tuks and tuk tuk drivers trying to get me to go places that I wasn't going, and over and through sleeping bodies who looked like they'd set up camp at the train station. My introduction to the train stations in India. Now I know, tons of people sleep in the train stations. And it actually might be one of the safer places to sleep if I' m ever in a bind. I'm talking full families, camped out with cooking supplies and all. I waited in line and noticed the lines were filled with men. I shrugged at this and waited... until people started edging me to the front of the line. I had noticed the sign marked "ladies", but it didn't seem to lead to anything, so I'd kinda ignored it. I finally realized after people pushing me forward saying "ladies first" that women are allowed to go right in front, while the men wait patiently in line. I'll take it. I got to the front and explained that I wanted to go to Putna, which would lead me to a bus headed for Bodhgaya. She agreed but then explained that this counter is not for sleeper class, it is just for _____ class (i don't remember what it's called). At this point I was hot and tired and feeling a little frustrated, so I didn't pay much attention and just agreed, as long as I got on that train. A ticket in my hand, I was relieved. I stepped over sleeping bodies and through family and friendly dinners as I scoured the train station. I had a few hours to kill and wanted to become oriented before I joined the crowds sitting on the ground. I figured out what was where; the first class women's waiting room, the first class men's waiting room, platforms 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, the signs that announce first in Hindi, then in English what trains are arriving and the status of the other trains. Finally, I realized I was about to embark on a 12 hour journey and when I saw people benched up on the train, looking pretty hot and uncomfortable, I probably wanted the sleeper class. EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE IN INDIA. This is a saying that I have heard since the first moment I arrived in India. I found my way to a help desk and asked what I need to do to change my ticket to sleeper class. They sent me to another office. I never found that office, but when I found a different office and asked they said better that I get on the train sitting in the station now, waiting to part for my destination. This train I didn't know about. I had been told the next train wasn't for a few hours. I listened to the man and found my way to the train. I asked the men near the train how I change to sleeper class; one younger man lead me to about 4 other men one after another, and finally me onto the train into my new sleeper class seat. He didn't really ask for $, but I didn't want any problems later, so I asked how much. I paid 100 rupees and asked if he needed to write something on my ticket. Behind him, an older man said not to worry about it and that he'd be sleeping in the seat next to me and if there was a problem he'd take care of it. (how nice of him) Throughout the ride, this man treated me with the Indian hospitality that I have learned about, buying me tea and treats on the train, interested in my India and English books, and watching my bag as I watched his when headed for the bathroom. At the beginning I was weary of him, but it didn't take long to realize he was just a nice man. In the end, I ended up giving him one of my books as a thank you for making sure I was alright and that I got off at the right stop. Lesson of the train system: know the name of the train station, not just the city where I'm going. I got off the train and took a rickshaw through the crazy streets of Putna to where I could catch a bus to Bodhgaya. I arrived in one piece :)

Darjeeling

After Assam, I headed for Darjeeling. This was my first "traveling" experience in India, where I had to figure everything out on my own. I boarded the correct plane, arrived safely, and took an airport cab up to Darjeeling. Darjeeling, known for it's tea, is a small town on the side of a hill. It is literally sprawled on the side of the hill/mountain, no flattening anything. The ride up is not for the weak at heart, as is no ride or transportation in India. But the ride was absolutely breathtaking and we proceeded up the windy road passing through beautiful, lush, tropical scenery with waterfalls, and the higher we went the more exposed the view of the valley became. It was on and off raining and it felt like we were climbing into the clouds. The one lane road was filled with two-way traffic and thoughts of slipping down off the road were blocked from my mind, which was filled with the impressive landscape. Upon arrival, I was dropped off at the taxi area. I had picked a guesthouse out of my "bible", the lonely planet, and basically just asked around. Everyone was super friendly, and the police handed my a not-s0-legible map of Darjeeling. I hiked up and around the road in the light mist and found my guesthouse without trouble, other than my lungs' acknowledgement of the altitude. I arrived in the guesthouse, checked into my tiny, but quaint and very inexpensive room. I headed to the restaurant on the top of the guesthouse, had some tea and food and retired for the night. In the morning, I scanned the Darjeeling chapter in the lonely planet and decided some of the sights that I might want to see. I'm not too good at finding things, and I didn't want to walk around with my giant lonely planet in my hand, so I basically just started walking. I noticed the tibetan influence of this city right away and found a certain comfort in the familiarity of Mongolia. I was walking around with no direction and decided I'd start with seeing a monastery. I had no idea that Darjeeling is filled with Monasteries. I just asked a guy on the street where's the nearest monastery, and followed the school children down a narrow path until I eventually found one. It was closed. I walked around and noticed the 2 other foreigners taking pictures. They left. There was a monk making prayers in the 2nd floor of the monastery. I looked up, trying to figure out where it was coming from, and found the monk looking out the window at me. He invited me up. I found my way up the stairs and entered his tiny room, sans the shoes. I sat in silence as I watched and listened to his prayers, mantra, and drums. It again reminded me of Mongolia. Some of the men in the Monastery even kind of looked Mongolian. Monks would peer into the room, I assumed from seeing the foreigners shoes outside. They'd smile and disappear. When the meditation was over, I thanked the monk, who didnt speak any English and got lost finding my way back up towards where I was staying. I loved my short time in Darjeeling, but I'd heard its a lot like Nepal and it reminded me a lot of Mongolia. I planned to head out and my last day, I made some tourist friends and directed them to the tibetan refugee center, which I'd hiked to the day before. Me and one other guy headed for the zoo. The zoo had some interesting animals, but I'm not the hugest fan of animals in cages. What was cool was the Everest mountaineering museum. I am absolutely impressed by the people who climb Everest and the museum helped me gain an understanding of the Himalayas, which in a better time of year are viewable from my guesthouse. I hope to do some hiking around the base of some of these impressive mountains.

Full Power 24 hours! (an Indian saying)

INDIA!!! (i'm going to do my best for a full update before my internet time is up) p.s... the shift button doesn't work, so forgive me for lack of capitalization.

After having a blast in Michigan and New York, I set out for INDIA. I used to talk about traveling India, but there was a part of me that wasn't sure when/if I'd ever make it.

1st 24 hours in India:
While in NY, I had a arranged to meet a friend of a friend in New Delhi, India. That is the only 'plan' that I had at that point. When I arrived to India (around 7pm), I had the cab driver call this friend and we found my way to the flooded garden that led to this friend's apartments. That night, I decided to join him to his family's house in the northeastern state of Assam. He was leaving in the morning, so I bought my ticket online and hoped for the best. In the morning, as we were getting ready to head to the airport, his maid (for lack of a better word) came, cleaned the dishes, set out toast, and did whatever else she does. This was my first interaction with the 'help' of India. Turns out, it was just a taste into what I was about to dive into. We headed to the airport and all I could think about was my friend, Karishma, in the states who is deathly afraid to fly ever since she nose-dived in an airplane in a local flight in India. We didn't nose-dive :) Upon arrival, I met Nalin's mom and driver. We drove through the streets of Guwahati through lush green, tropical landscapes, to one of the most beautiful homes I've seen in a while. I could tell they were quite well-off as the gate man opened the gate, unleashing the tropical paradise that serves as their yard. They have beautiful flowers, exotic trees, a small lake, and a nice porch to enjoy the scenery. The dog took a liking to me, and I didn't enjoy his slobber. The next few hours were filled with lots of friendly conversation and good food with Nalin's family. This was my introduction to the four approximately 15 year olds cooking and cleaning for this family. They live there and work very hard. I took a liking to a few of the girls, but they were pretty shy around me. It took me some getting used to, but I knew I had to learn how things work here. Later, I found out that the girls are able to buy land and houses for their families, and don't necessarily speak Hindi. They speak a mixture of Hindi and some native dialect. I don't know what part of India these girls were from. After 2 years of studying human trafficking and child labor, I found myself conflicted, not sure how to act or what to think. So, I thought nothing, and just observed. This is a new country with a new way of life. Nalin's family are the nicest and most friendly, hospitable and welcoming people ever! They fully welcomed me into their home, gave me a room and his mom took it upon herself to make sure that I had lots of cultural learning experiences; something I am so grateful for. Their family owns a tea farm... or tea company... or something like that. They ship tea off to be mixed and packaged and sold. The business obviously serves them well. I attended the 2nd day of a wedding, which consisted of a colorful assortment of Indian food and Indian versions of other food. I tried a little bit of almost everything. Nalin's mom and her friends were so friendly and made sure that I was able to experience. And I was surprised by how agreeable they were to the fact that I was traveling India without a plan. At the wedding, I was impressed with all the beautiful saris and bracelets that decorated the women.
We left the wedding and headed back home, where I met up with Nalin. We went out and met with some of his friends, went to a small club with a live band, rather weak drinks, beer, lots of fun dancing people. While in Assam, I was definitely the only foreigner around, but people's English and knowledge of America was so good that sometimes I forgot. After the club, we went back to the house and went to sleep. I woke up in the morning and was laying on my bed, when Nalin's mom came in and said their was a massage lady at the house and asked if I wanted a massage. I hesitated, asked how much, waved me off, and I agreed. I had a massage in one of the rooms of the house for about an hour and a half. I think the rest of the days in Assam were mostly filled with food, relaxation, and getting over my jetlag. One of the days, they had the driver take me to a bunch of the famous temples which are in the area and another day they made sure I tried traditional Assamese food. I was so greatful for their amazing generosity and hospitality. I have been keeping in touch with Nalin and will meet up with him in Delhi at some point. Also, I invited him to meet me when I get to a surfing spot and promised to teach him to surf.