Varanasi Cont'd.
Varanasi is a beautiful place. It is considered to be India's oldest and holiest city. The entire city contains a constant wafting smell of cow manure. You must watch as you step for your feet may land in a giant pile. Indians believe it is a sign of good luck when you step into cowshit. I must be one hell of a lucky girl.
We spent four days there going to pugas, boat rides, and many explorations. Indians in Varanasi love talking about the history of the city and the many creation stories that have taken place there. The city is dedicated to the God Shiva. At the Marnikarnika Ghat (the burning ghat), it was believed that the fire that burns in the temple is the original fire that Shiva gave to the people. It is believed to be burning for over 3,000 years. The days spent in the city was spent wandering on the riverside contemplating life as I observed the many activities involved with the Ganga River: ritual cleansing baths, children getting the hair from their former lives shaved, sadus drinking tea, snake charmers... the list can go on. Because there was not much information there that was pertinent to my research, I attempted to take time to just relax. But it is hard to relax when you can never find solitude. Women do not walk around alone in India and a foreign women draws much attention.
During one of the evenings, we decided to visit the Dasashwamedt Ghat for a daily puga ritual. We met a couple of beautiful Indian girls, Roba and Roma, who invited us into their home where we drank chai and ate some Indian snacks. Indian hospitality never ceases to amaze me. The best part of Indian hospitality is the necessity of chai tea in every interaction. Everywhere you go you are given chai: silk shops, art shops, internet cafes, train stations, etc. As I have reiterated before: if there is a possibility of overdosing on chai, India is the place for it.
One of the most amazing parts of Varanasi is the clash of traditional culture and modern consumerism. Indians love to manipulate Hindu religious icons into commercial use. Along the 3,000 year-old ghats, there are an amazing array of street art that has been absent until recently. Many of the older generation are not fond of this because it is an introduction from Western culture. But I believe it is a beautiful display of art. The artist is as mysterious and elusive as the art itself.
Walking along the streets of Varanasi I encountered one of the most serendipitous moments of my life. Paul, a South African traveler we met in Bangkok, was walking along the street and recognized me. He still had a snapshot of my Toms shoes on his camera from 3 weeks earlier. What a small world. We ended up showing him our guest house where he and a friend decided to stay also.
I fell in love with Varanasi. At sunset on the roof of our guest house, the pink glow of the sky compliments the multitude of kites flown by children and the call to prayer of Muslims in the entire city. It is the most inspirational sound in the entire world. Every day, Muslims from all around the world turn towards Mecca and pray at 6am and 6pm which creates a situation where at least one person is praying to Allah all around the world at all times. Energy felt for the submission to Allah is more than any words can describe.
Sarnath.
Sarnath is a small town outside of Varanasi. It was the place where Buddha gave his first sermon after enlightenment. Because of this fact, it is probably one of the most interesting places I've ever been in. The main street is literally lined with Buddhist temples. Every Buddhist country from around the world has a temple there. It is lined with a multitude of tour buses and tourists from all around the world.
I stayed with a Jain family of four children, a baby, and two parents. The youngest son, Ankit, is a charismatic 15-year-old who learned English through Dr. Jain and working at a shop. We worked with Dr. Jain, who has spent the last eight years developing education for the lower caste children of the area. His schools provide sponsorship and education for children of lower castes, focusing mainly on the young girls to find other job opportunities rather than waiting to become a housewife at the age of 15. His valiant effort at providing this opportunity for young women is amazing but it does not seem to be changing the job market of India. Everything in India is run by males. The few women work in public are the extreme minority. This is still a young program, however, and with the imminence of modernization in the village life, the prospects for rural women seems optimistic.
Sarnath is strange. Because it is the sight of intense religious study, there is a constant echo of prayer songs. Strangely, there is also a simultaneous constant stream of techno music from the cacophony of wedding parties performed in Sarnath. I have paralleled it with something like Burningman where one can find party and spiritual enlightenment all in one.
In another moment of serendipity, I ran into someone from my past here in Sarnath. During a Dharma gathering (where a group of Westerners study Buddha's Dharma), I ran into Mathias Langer, a guy who also went to Mercer Island High School. What a strange coincidence. Here we are, on the other side of the world and I have found two other people who also went to my high school. I referred to Sarnath in my journal as "a cacophony of beats and prayers reverberating the dust-filled air".
Agra.
We are now in Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, after taking another night train through the province of Uttar Pradesh. I already miss my host family: Ankit, Ankita, Sangeeta, Amit, Amrita, Lalchand and Shotu. They were the best family any girl could dream of being a part of. I will never forget how Ankit took me to a Japanese monastery to get my nose pierced with a tree thorn by a women, or waking up to his face overlooking mine saying "JENNY WAKE UP!" Sarnath was a dreamland and Agra is reality. We have been warned that the food in Agra is extremely dangerous due to the poor sanitation standards and so we decided to walk to McDonalds... the first one built in the world where they necessarily omitted the cheeseburger from the menu. Indians do not eat cow... she is the mother of the people and sacred to most. Therefore I ate a chicken masala burger, fries, and brownie sundae. It was the most rewarding brownie sundae in my entire life.
Indians are absolutely comical. There is no such barrier between their thoughts and words. Every Indian has such a strong personality. You will never be bored in India, it is the land of constant entertainment. I love it.
J.
Varanasi is a beautiful place. It is considered to be India's oldest and holiest city. The entire city contains a constant wafting smell of cow manure. You must watch as you step for your feet may land in a giant pile. Indians believe it is a sign of good luck when you step into cowshit. I must be one hell of a lucky girl.
We spent four days there going to pugas, boat rides, and many explorations. Indians in Varanasi love talking about the history of the city and the many creation stories that have taken place there. The city is dedicated to the God Shiva. At the Marnikarnika Ghat (the burning ghat), it was believed that the fire that burns in the temple is the original fire that Shiva gave to the people. It is believed to be burning for over 3,000 years. The days spent in the city was spent wandering on the riverside contemplating life as I observed the many activities involved with the Ganga River: ritual cleansing baths, children getting the hair from their former lives shaved, sadus drinking tea, snake charmers... the list can go on. Because there was not much information there that was pertinent to my research, I attempted to take time to just relax. But it is hard to relax when you can never find solitude. Women do not walk around alone in India and a foreign women draws much attention.
During one of the evenings, we decided to visit the Dasashwamedt Ghat for a daily puga ritual. We met a couple of beautiful Indian girls, Roba and Roma, who invited us into their home where we drank chai and ate some Indian snacks. Indian hospitality never ceases to amaze me. The best part of Indian hospitality is the necessity of chai tea in every interaction. Everywhere you go you are given chai: silk shops, art shops, internet cafes, train stations, etc. As I have reiterated before: if there is a possibility of overdosing on chai, India is the place for it.
One of the most amazing parts of Varanasi is the clash of traditional culture and modern consumerism. Indians love to manipulate Hindu religious icons into commercial use. Along the 3,000 year-old ghats, there are an amazing array of street art that has been absent until recently. Many of the older generation are not fond of this because it is an introduction from Western culture. But I believe it is a beautiful display of art. The artist is as mysterious and elusive as the art itself.
Walking along the streets of Varanasi I encountered one of the most serendipitous moments of my life. Paul, a South African traveler we met in Bangkok, was walking along the street and recognized me. He still had a snapshot of my Toms shoes on his camera from 3 weeks earlier. What a small world. We ended up showing him our guest house where he and a friend decided to stay also.
I fell in love with Varanasi. At sunset on the roof of our guest house, the pink glow of the sky compliments the multitude of kites flown by children and the call to prayer of Muslims in the entire city. It is the most inspirational sound in the entire world. Every day, Muslims from all around the world turn towards Mecca and pray at 6am and 6pm which creates a situation where at least one person is praying to Allah all around the world at all times. Energy felt for the submission to Allah is more than any words can describe.
Sarnath.
Sarnath is a small town outside of Varanasi. It was the place where Buddha gave his first sermon after enlightenment. Because of this fact, it is probably one of the most interesting places I've ever been in. The main street is literally lined with Buddhist temples. Every Buddhist country from around the world has a temple there. It is lined with a multitude of tour buses and tourists from all around the world.
I stayed with a Jain family of four children, a baby, and two parents. The youngest son, Ankit, is a charismatic 15-year-old who learned English through Dr. Jain and working at a shop. We worked with Dr. Jain, who has spent the last eight years developing education for the lower caste children of the area. His schools provide sponsorship and education for children of lower castes, focusing mainly on the young girls to find other job opportunities rather than waiting to become a housewife at the age of 15. His valiant effort at providing this opportunity for young women is amazing but it does not seem to be changing the job market of India. Everything in India is run by males. The few women work in public are the extreme minority. This is still a young program, however, and with the imminence of modernization in the village life, the prospects for rural women seems optimistic.
Sarnath is strange. Because it is the sight of intense religious study, there is a constant echo of prayer songs. Strangely, there is also a simultaneous constant stream of techno music from the cacophony of wedding parties performed in Sarnath. I have paralleled it with something like Burningman where one can find party and spiritual enlightenment all in one.
In another moment of serendipity, I ran into someone from my past here in Sarnath. During a Dharma gathering (where a group of Westerners study Buddha's Dharma), I ran into Mathias Langer, a guy who also went to Mercer Island High School. What a strange coincidence. Here we are, on the other side of the world and I have found two other people who also went to my high school. I referred to Sarnath in my journal as "a cacophony of beats and prayers reverberating the dust-filled air".
Agra.
We are now in Agra, home of the Taj Mahal, after taking another night train through the province of Uttar Pradesh. I already miss my host family: Ankit, Ankita, Sangeeta, Amit, Amrita, Lalchand and Shotu. They were the best family any girl could dream of being a part of. I will never forget how Ankit took me to a Japanese monastery to get my nose pierced with a tree thorn by a women, or waking up to his face overlooking mine saying "JENNY WAKE UP!" Sarnath was a dreamland and Agra is reality. We have been warned that the food in Agra is extremely dangerous due to the poor sanitation standards and so we decided to walk to McDonalds... the first one built in the world where they necessarily omitted the cheeseburger from the menu. Indians do not eat cow... she is the mother of the people and sacred to most. Therefore I ate a chicken masala burger, fries, and brownie sundae. It was the most rewarding brownie sundae in my entire life.
Indians are absolutely comical. There is no such barrier between their thoughts and words. Every Indian has such a strong personality. You will never be bored in India, it is the land of constant entertainment. I love it.
J.
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