Social Whirl

It has been a long time between blogs. I keep being promised wireless access and then it doesn't materialize. At my new hotel, we worked for two hours and couldn't get my computer to recognize the wireless signal. Using the hotel's computers is relatively expensive and I have been looking for a cheaper place. This is traveler's madness because expensive isn't that expensive, but I have found a place between my hotel and my Hindi class that is convenient, relatively spacious and cheap. It also seems to have Internet access all day long. My hotel is darked out between about 10 a.m. and 3 p.m because the City power is off and their generator only supplies a few essential lights. No power to outlets and no hot water. I will be in Varanasi for almost two more weeks and I am beginning to have a routine so I hope to blog more regularly from now on. Promises, promises.

My New Hotel

Except for my complaints above, I like my new place very much. Admittedly, there are almost 100 steps between the walk along the river and my room at the top of the hotel and there is only one entrance so I must climb the 100 steps every time I come home to my room, but once I get there, it is worth it. I have a spectacular view of the Ganges. I am just down river from the main cremation ghat and at night, I can see the fires, and in the daytime, the smoke. Cremations take place 24 hours a day. My room is simple but quite comfortable. The monkeys make a lot of noise, and last night, there was amplified chanting all night long because of the New Year's festival, and the temple bells start ringing at 5 in the morning and there are the usual dog choruses in the middle of the night, but earplugs and familiarity take care of all the sounds and I sleep as well if not better here than I have anyplace in India. Although there is a lot of activity along the river bank (the ghats), the hotel is a walk from most tourist amenities, so I usually eat breakfast and the evening meal at the hotel. The restaurant is quite reasonable and the other tourists are interesting and therefore . . .

The Social Whirl

In Delhi, I was on the edge of the tourist circuit but here I am right in the middle of it. Even before Ben left, I started meeting people and now have made several friends. My place is not home to many long stay travelers, so the friendships are short, but my days are full. Even before I moved here, I met a young Swedish musician at Asi Ghat. We have plans to get together when he gets back from the mela at Allahabad. Then at my new hotel (Scindia Guest House), I met a French psychologist. She practices the eye movement thing that I can't remember the name of and is studying Somatic Experiencing (SE) which I am doing with Shel Rasch. She (the French psychologist -- names do not stick in my head anymore) and I have hung out together several times and will do so again. She is also at the mela but will be back soon. If my energy picks up, I might go back to the mela for a day or two, but right now, although I am feeling better than I have since I arrived in India, my full strength has not come back. However, after a couple more days of stair climbing therapy, I will be strong as the buffalo that are everywhere on the ghats. There is a herd of them on the steps of the burning ghat that I have to thread my way through on the way home. Ben T. told me to get a flashlight and for once I listened to him and it is invaluable for avoiding cow flops on dark nights. Not only is there no electricity between 10 and 3, it is also prone to going out at other times and some of the ghats are very dark after the sun has gone down.

I have also started interviewing tourists as part of my "Tourist Project." I am terrible at it. My respect for anthropologists has gone up enormously. My first subjects were an Australian couple in their early fifties who have just started out on a year-long circuit of Asia. Three months in India is their first stage. I met them after they had just completed their first two weeks. They have traveled for five week periods several times before, and they say until that time period is up they don't think the enormity of what they are attempting will settle in.

One thing I am interested in is how people think of themselves. They definitely don't think of themselves as tourists, but they didn't come up with another word. I am going to abandon this question or come at it in a different way. Most people don't like to think of themselves as tourists, but most have not come up with an alternative.

The Australian couple, I do remember their names -- Jan and Keith, are very friendly and quite easy going. They have been married thirty years and although they occasionally annoy each other, they seem to have figured this one out. I am in awe of them. I don't think I could stay away from my roots for that long. Three months is pushing it. I am doing fine so far -- better than I expected, but I know I will be glad to see the clean, wide, traffic free (compared to India) streets of Los Angeles again.

I have also been hanging out with a Canadian couple from Calgary, Paul and Tara. She says she is not a tourist but a sociologist. He didn't respond. They spent time in Dubai and Oman before India. They loved Oman. "A real treasure," they say. They had expected to be met by an Indian friend but there was a family misfortune and at the last minute, they were left to arrange their own time in India. They are doing very well. They are about to leave Varanasi for Rishikesh to chill out in the cool air while practicing yoga.

And then more Australians, and then some Norwegians, and who knows who is next. I talk all day long it seems. But now that I have Hindi classes and homework, I will have to be disciplined. However, the nights are long if I don't hang out over the dinner table.

Makar Sankranti

Yesterday, was the Hindu New Year's, Makar Sankranti. It was celebrated by bathing in the Ganges and flying kites. I was out on the ghats by 6:00 a.m. (sunrise is about 6:45) and both activities had already begun. By sunrise, the sky was filled with kites. There were so many of them that one had to be careful as one walked not to get tangled up. Some of them were being flown by very small children who didn't quite have the hang of it yet. The kites are made of plastic and are small, about 1 foot square with a very small, stubby tail. They can go very high. They launch the kites by repeatedly giving short, strong tugs on the string until the kites are high enough to catch a current. They are very skillful. In a few days there is to be a professional kite flying tournament. I don't know where. Accurate information is hard to find.

All day long yesterday, there were crowds on the ghats, sitting, eating snacks and bathing. Mostly men but quite a few women too. At one point, I was sitting watching some boys fly kites when I was suddenly surrounded by a Punjabi family, at least ten or twelve people. They were all talking to me at once in a mixture of languages. It was fun, but I soon moved on.

Also yesterday, a saddhu was being initiated on the ghat below our hotel. That's what I think was happening. The hotel manager said, "Oh, those tourists are doing puja down there." I would never of thought of them as tourists, but I guess they didn't come from Varanasi. There was a saddhu dressonly in a short saffron wrap around his waste. He sat on a platform in front of a row of religious pictures all of which were garlanded with marigolds. Beside him there were two men in the Indian version of Western clothes, Brahmins, I presume, chanting. They were motion for him to do things like dipping water into the fire in front of him. It went on for hours. They were all very friendly and they gave me prasad (half of a sweet obviously bought from a sweet shop) at one point.

Varanasi

I am having a great time in Varanasi. At one point I decided I was crazy for staying here so long but I was wrong. I can just stand on my balcony watching people walk by for hours. Something new and interesting is always happening. Because of New Year's there are a lot of pilgrims here. Long strings of them walk up and down the ghats. And I liked my first Hindi lesson very much. A window into Indian life seemed to open a sliver. I am in the old city and behind the ghats are endless winding lanes closed to all but pedestrians, bicycles, cows and, unfortunately, motorcycles. One of the great thing about the lanes is no one hassles me. On the ghats, I am always being asked if I want a boat, postcards, grass, to see a silk shop, to contribute to the excavation of a temple, etc., etc., etc. In the lanes, I can poke along at my own speed. On the ghats, it is dangerous to stop, although if I go north (down river), it is better than up river toward the main ghat.

It is nap time. Back to the ghats and the 100 steps.