India (weeks 30 to 33)
It's hard to decide where to start when describing India. It's taking me a while to process it all. India is unquestionably an assault on the senses, and definitely in a world of its own. There were many good and interesting aspects of our month there, but, I must admit that, for me, I still came out of it feeling a little low.
The history, religion, culture, architecture, foods, and colours were all remarkable. They were, however, like bunches of wildflowers growing out of a landfill. The most polluting country in the world...we even ended up in Delhi during the worst smog the most polluting city in the world has ever experienced. Gross. I developed a cough and an ear infection from the pollution days after arriving.
The vibrant colours of the sarees, a style of dress I find quite beautiful, were dulled by women's near-nonexistent rights, by rampant rape that goes unpunished, by the all-too-common infanticide of undesired baby girls. Highly toxic chemical dyes used in textile industries poison rivers across the country, inevitably making their way into food sources and into to the ocean.
The delicious food mingled with trash strewn everywhere, with the stench of open sewers, with the slops of sickly cow dung staining the streets. The unchecked use of chemicals, dyes, hormones, and any other tricks to sell shinier, puffier, brighter produce is of great concern.
The beautiful principles in Hinduism like "ahimsa" (do no harm) gets translated as "do not kill" and is never followed by "do good". There is little care for animals…even the sacred ones. The cows are skinny and sickly, cattle have big bleeding welts from being beaten. Dogs, the lowest of the low, are often treated cruelly, as is believed to be their karma.
The history, religion, culture, architecture, foods, and colours were all remarkable. They were, however, like bunches of wildflowers growing out of a landfill. The most polluting country in the world...we even ended up in Delhi during the worst smog the most polluting city in the world has ever experienced. Gross. I developed a cough and an ear infection from the pollution days after arriving.
The vibrant colours of the sarees, a style of dress I find quite beautiful, were dulled by women's near-nonexistent rights, by rampant rape that goes unpunished, by the all-too-common infanticide of undesired baby girls. Highly toxic chemical dyes used in textile industries poison rivers across the country, inevitably making their way into food sources and into to the ocean.
The delicious food mingled with trash strewn everywhere, with the stench of open sewers, with the slops of sickly cow dung staining the streets. The unchecked use of chemicals, dyes, hormones, and any other tricks to sell shinier, puffier, brighter produce is of great concern.
The beautiful principles in Hinduism like "ahimsa" (do no harm) gets translated as "do not kill" and is never followed by "do good". There is little care for animals…even the sacred ones. The cows are skinny and sickly, cattle have big bleeding welts from being beaten. Dogs, the lowest of the low, are often treated cruelly, as is believed to be their karma.
I was hoping to find in India more spirituality than empty rituals. More compassion than cruelty. More mindfulness than indifference. Their (main) religion is egalitarian and balanced, but their society is very far from it. Hinduism includes the sanctity of nature, but no one seems to know or care about how seriously they are destroying their land, air, and water, and how much of an impact they are having on the world. Even the educated people we met disappointed me; a medical doctor we chatted with on the train still believed that a dip in the polluted Ganges is a miracle cure and that goat's milk is the proper prescription for tuberculosis. The government has an initiative to "Make India Clean”, but zero funding is allocated to it.
Part of how I experienced India was, unavoidably, through a woman's lens; the hostility was often palatable, especially if I drifted more than a few paces from Luis. I was at times reminded all too clearly of my place, of my powerlessness and my vulnerability. Yet people were generally friendly, if a little tiring (unavoidable when most equate white skin with a walking cash machine - or perhaps some obscure movie star, group after group after group asking for "one photo please" or "selfie?" which invariably turns into a dozen poses to satisfy their hungry lenses). Even the sadhus were adamant in their begging, thrusting collection jars in your chest, standing in your way. "Namaste, money!" became our catch phrase for India. Another part of how I experienced India may also be through the lens of someone who has traveled a fair bit to areas that are not the easiest to travel through. Maybe on some level that has taught me to look a little deeper than the colours and food, to think outside the box but to open it and look inside, too.
Part of how I experienced India was, unavoidably, through a woman's lens; the hostility was often palatable, especially if I drifted more than a few paces from Luis. I was at times reminded all too clearly of my place, of my powerlessness and my vulnerability. Yet people were generally friendly, if a little tiring (unavoidable when most equate white skin with a walking cash machine - or perhaps some obscure movie star, group after group after group asking for "one photo please" or "selfie?" which invariably turns into a dozen poses to satisfy their hungry lenses). Even the sadhus were adamant in their begging, thrusting collection jars in your chest, standing in your way. "Namaste, money!" became our catch phrase for India. Another part of how I experienced India may also be through the lens of someone who has traveled a fair bit to areas that are not the easiest to travel through. Maybe on some level that has taught me to look a little deeper than the colours and food, to think outside the box but to open it and look inside, too.
India is also beautiful. We saw some amazing sights, met some friendly people, ate tons of delicious food, and had interesting conversations. I loved that people love to share their culture; seeing travelers eat at the local places, enter temples respectfully, and wear garments in their fashion made people all smiles and warmth. Calls of "Indian style!", "Indian girl!" and "very good!" followed me around whenever I wore a saree. The highlight of our interactions was when we were invited into a Krishna temple; though we were weary the priests may try to extort money from us (they didn't) or that perhaps women should not be entering (they let me sit and participate from the side), we spent over two hours there chanting, taking breaks to share some delicious chai and to exchange a few words in broken English. The sadhus were curious and friendly, and clearly quite proud to share their culture with us. In exchange, we were happy to partake in this chanting meditation, and had a really lovely time (and donated to the temple on our way out).
India is a land of contradictions. |
Jaipur, Jodhpur, and Jaisalmer
First stops: Jaipur, the pink city with the Wind Palace. Jodhpur, the blue city with a clocktower (and the most delicious lassi). Jaisalmer, the golden city, with its impressively intricate fort and smooth sandstone architecture.
We were lucky to arrive in Jaisalmer in time for Divali. Aside from near constant firecrackers going off all night, we enjoyed the festivities, especially being invited to celebrate with the hotel owner's family. We helped with pujas for their property and watched children set off fireworks in the street. Before being let loose to head back to our hotel rooms, we were ushered, along with the other guests, into the lofty house for some tasty homemade chaats (snacks), soft drinks, and chunks of opium. Woah there, India.
Did I mention I have no recollection of all the intricacies and difficulties of train travel between these areas? Apparently, we also made our way to Abhaneri to visit the Chand Baori well somewhere along the way, too.
We were lucky to arrive in Jaisalmer in time for Divali. Aside from near constant firecrackers going off all night, we enjoyed the festivities, especially being invited to celebrate with the hotel owner's family. We helped with pujas for their property and watched children set off fireworks in the street. Before being let loose to head back to our hotel rooms, we were ushered, along with the other guests, into the lofty house for some tasty homemade chaats (snacks), soft drinks, and chunks of opium. Woah there, India.
Did I mention I have no recollection of all the intricacies and difficulties of train travel between these areas? Apparently, we also made our way to Abhaneri to visit the Chand Baori well somewhere along the way, too.
Pushkar Camel Fair
We timed our India visit both to avoid monsoons and to see the Pushkar camel fair, one of the largest gathering of camels in the world. We're told over 30 000 camels and 10 000 horses show up for this fair; the first week, caravans arrive from all over the region, and the second week the fair begins, with contests, concerts, and rides. We watched the moustache competition (not surprising the the same guy wins every year) and the camel decorating contest, where camels are adorned with loads of bangles, jangles, dangles, all things shiny, and some impressive hair cuts (...same guy also wins every year).
Every morning, woken up by a prayer song on a loudspeaker nearby, we braved the road crossing to wander through the tangled streets of Pushkar. I loved this town, though I would have liked to see it a bit less busy (it was worth going for the fair, however). During our stay, we forged favorite food spots, resting spots, and observation stops, savouring all the colour and hubbub until we boarded a long-distance bus to our next destination. Or was it a train? A bus and a train?
Every morning, woken up by a prayer song on a loudspeaker nearby, we braved the road crossing to wander through the tangled streets of Pushkar. I loved this town, though I would have liked to see it a bit less busy (it was worth going for the fair, however). During our stay, we forged favorite food spots, resting spots, and observation stops, savouring all the colour and hubbub until we boarded a long-distance bus to our next destination. Or was it a train? A bus and a train?
Varanasi and Khajuraho
We (somehow) arrived in Varanasi, the holiest of cities, just in time (and quite accidentally) for the very famous Dev-Deepawali, the festival of lights. We opted for a small hotel in the old town and the proximity to the action was well worth the stuffy, grungy room. We wandered down the smallest alleyways and side streets we could find, getting lost before coming back to the Ganges again.
Though one of the first things we encountered on our first morning in India was a dead body outside of the train station ticket office doors, seeing and smelling the burning vats along the banks of the Ganges was another experience altogether. I'm no fan of our funeral practices; it was fascinating (if a little unnerving) watching people melting, bubbling, blackening and drifting off into the sky. Death is a necessary part of life, after all. Those who can't afford to be burned on the pyres in the holiest of cities can still aim to be floated down the Ganges, still a great achievement for afterlife prospects.
We looked into heading to the mountains for the last bit of our time in India, but seasons were turning, roads were closing, and we weren't sure about purchasing (and carrying) a bunch of heavier winter gear around with us. Instead, we hopped on some trains and went to see the temples of Khajuraho. We basked in the relative quiet of a smaller city for the last few days before our grueling, 80 hour journey to Ecuador.
Though one of the first things we encountered on our first morning in India was a dead body outside of the train station ticket office doors, seeing and smelling the burning vats along the banks of the Ganges was another experience altogether. I'm no fan of our funeral practices; it was fascinating (if a little unnerving) watching people melting, bubbling, blackening and drifting off into the sky. Death is a necessary part of life, after all. Those who can't afford to be burned on the pyres in the holiest of cities can still aim to be floated down the Ganges, still a great achievement for afterlife prospects.
We looked into heading to the mountains for the last bit of our time in India, but seasons were turning, roads were closing, and we weren't sure about purchasing (and carrying) a bunch of heavier winter gear around with us. Instead, we hopped on some trains and went to see the temples of Khajuraho. We basked in the relative quiet of a smaller city for the last few days before our grueling, 80 hour journey to Ecuador.