Silk, Spirituality, But Not Sarnath - Our Voyage To Varanasi

When The Wife woke up this morning and peeled open the curtain to our window, she was greeted with the sight of a man taking a squat, his hairy balls dangling in the wind just a few feet away from the railroad tracks.  You would think that he would have had plenty of opportunity to hear the train coming and show some modesty.  Nope.  Welcome to "Incredible India."

There were also plenty of men urinating out in the open.  Now I really don't have a problem with that.  I DO have a problem with them not finding a landmark.  Someone taking a leisurely stroll through a field can step in it, mistake it for early morning dew, and then track it into their home.   Now if a landmark that people don't normally walk into were used, then this would eliminate the problem.  Good landmarks include trees, potted plants, walls, and toilets.

Where's the tree?

We got to see our first glimpses of the countryside.  Beautiful green fields ruined by callously scattered trash.  All sorts of pigs and wild dogs rooting through that detritus.  Ladies in vibrant saris' hunched over in fields tending to their crops.  And little dirt-covered children playing makeshift games of cricket.

Predictably, our train arrived late.  Three hours behind schedule.  We had decided to take the overnight train since it was supposed to arrive at 7:30 AM while the flights would only land at noon.  Similar results, just 16 more hours of boredom.  So much for having the whole day to spend in Varanasi.  Because of the late arrival, we had to eliminate something from our itinerary.  The Wife voted to cut out Sarnath, a nearby city where Prince Siddhartha gave his first teaching on Buddhism.  I voted to omit sari shopping because technically my family IS Buddhist.  After the votes were tallied, we arrived at a touristy shop called The Mehta International Silk-Weaving Centre.

They still practice artisan methods of silk weaving using the most advanced, hand-operated looms from Europe.  Of note, these looms were last produced in the 1800's.

 It was fascinating to watch these craftsmen painstakingly weave the silk thread into a six meter sari.  It takes them on average about six weeks to finish one.

Punch cards are used to produce the desired pattern.  

An even older loom that required two men to operate used a system of knotted rope for creating designs.

The tour was very informative, but The Wife really wanted the products.  Although, I am a philistine, I could appreciate the quality and artistry of their handiwork.  While these products are nowhere close to being cheap, they are definitely reasonable by Western standards.

 They had a plethora of textiles ranging from saris, scarfs, shawls, 
tapestries, and table cloths in many different patterns and designs. 

The Wife has yearned for a sari for years...I doubt she'll ever wear it.

We purchased this delicate silk "carpet" to hang up as a tapestry.

With a much lighter wallet, we met our guide for the city, Mr. J.P. Mishra.  We first visited the Bharat Mata (Mother Earth Temple).  Right outside of the temple was a sad-looking elephant chained to a post.  We were told it is used for ceremonies such as weddings.

Above the door to the temple were intricate carvings containing familiar symbols.

In Hinduism, the hexagram (aka "Star of David") represents
the intersection between the Earth and the Heavens.

The swastika has been used by Hindu's long before the Nazi's adopted the symbol.

The Bharat Mata is known for its large topographical relief map of India carved in stone that took six years to complete in 1936.  Used by the Indian independence movement against British imperialism, the monument was supposed to unite the people of India as one.  The existence of Pakistan and Bangladesh has undermined that ideal.

Our driver dodged herds of cattle, hundreds of rickshaws and carts, and groups of slow children as he sped through the city to reach Benares Hindu University.

We took a long tour of the large Hindu temple on campus.  J.P. gave a long passionate discourse on the Vedas and gods of Hinduism.  I was so tired from lack of sleep that I didn't hear a single thing except that the Buddha was just another incarnation of Krishna or Shiva.  Wait.  Does that make my family Hindu?  Great, I'm probably an 'untouchable.'

The Hindu god Hanuman

The Temple at Benares University

Chorus girl in a kick line

We had some time later that afternoon to wander the narrow streets of the main city.  There is no shortage of energy whether it be the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds or haggling merchants and their customers.

There were animals practically everywhere.  It's not just the sleeping dogs in every nook or cranny, but also the cows that block the narrow streets or shops, and even the monkeys spying from above.

Although Varanasi is a holy city for Hindu's, J.P. told us that approximately 40% of the population is Muslim.

It is hard not to notice the omnipresent security throughout the city.  There has been centuries of tension between the two groups stretching back for centuries.  In the older section of Varanasi, the intolerant Mughal emperor Aurangazeb had the Gyanvapi Mosque built over a Hindu temple that he demolished.  In that part of the city, stern-looking security forces carry FN-FAL assault rifles (they carry outdated WW II era Enfield rifles everywhere else).  That mosque is accessible through a door with electronic lock.  Nearby for the Hindu's is the Kashi Vishwanath Temple (Golden Temple).  Visitors are screened through a metal detector, and cameras and electronics are not allowed inside.

After our many hours of sightseeing, we were exhausted.  So, we headed to our hotel.  We were originally scheduled to stay at the highly-rated Radisson farther way in the newer part of Varanasi.  A month before arriving I had requested a room at the Rashmi Guest House which is right next to the Dasashwamedh Ghat.    The bedroom was basic with a fairly comfortable bed and some furniture.  The bathroom was lower end with no separate area for the low-pressure shower.

Our room (104) would have had a nice view of the river 
had there not been a huge tree right in front of the window.

The Dolphin restaurant on the rooftop had a nice view of the river, but the service was slow and the food mediocre.  Plus it is four flights up with no elevator.  We ordered a couple of dishes for dinner--a phaldari kebab (composed of compressed fruit and nuts), murgh shah-e-mehani (chicken in cream, khoa, and dry fruits), aloo dum Bernasi (deep fried potatoes in a creamy red gravy with dried fruits), and Hyderabadi biryani (rice with mutton, onions, and ginger).

The rooftop Dolphin restaurant has a great view of the Ganges River.

For the price of the hotel, the amenities were poor, but the location was unbeatable.  I think this hotel really appeals more to the backpacker or younger crowds who may not care as much for creature comforts. We really wanted to capitalize on this location and immerse ourselves in the nightly energy of the city.

After dinner, we proceeded to the Dasashwamedh Ghat and boarded a small rowboat for a night voyage along the Ghats.  There was a bombing there only three months ago which killed a small Indian child and maimed some foreigners.  J.P. recommended that we visited the ghats by boat as it is much safer and more relaxing.

Fires illuminated the shoreline at the Manikarnika Ghat where deceased Hindu's were being cremated and subsequently washed down the Ganges.  It perplexes me that so many tourists try to get front row and center to watch a body being burned.  I would think that any grieving family would want some privacy during a funeral.  But J.P, reassured me that most Hindu's feel honored that foreigners are interested in their religion and culture, so he didn't mind the extra eyes when he cremated his parents there years ago.

Funerary ghats burned throughout the day and night.

J.P, our guide in Varanasi

We tried watching the nightly Ganga Fire Aarti from our boat.  I made it through about 5 minutes of the 45 minute festival.  The lack of English translation, sleep deprivation, and gentle rocking of the boat kept making me comatose.  Before heading back, we did do the typical touristy act of lighting a floating candle on a boat of foil as an offering to the Ganges.  It was immediately crushed by the boat tailing us.

The ceremony was hard to understand without the English subtitles.

An offering to the Gods or just litter for Mother Earth?