I cant quite find an internet cafe that is strong enough, technocomputationally, to allow me to post even a single picture in under ten minutes. So I am currently attempting to at least post a few of the better ones while I have the time. Enjoy! As for where I am: I am presently in India's holiest Hindu cities, Varanasi (southeast of Delhi). And, much to my own surprise, I am loving it here. Its filthy and crowded and smelly, but charming in a way...maybe its all of the spirituality in the air, or (more likely) something in the water. Varanasi is so holy because of a handful of reasons. Most importantly it rests on the Ganges; the mother of India! The ganges is amazingly beautiful and yet also incredibly disgusting (a statement about much of India itself): it is the most polluted body of water Ive ever seen and yet people flock to it throughout the day (thousands) to bathe, pray, do yoga, swim...but also dump their garbage, cremate their dead, or dump their dead like garbage. No joke. I took a boatride at 5am down the entire length of Varanasi to see the Ghats (temples that were constructed by kings throughout Indian history..gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous...and historic!), it was just me, my boatman Babu (a grizzly Indian who, underneath the grizzle, is a sweetheart) and the ganges at sunrise; amazing. As we passed the ghats people started showing up seemingly out of nowhere; stripping down, jumping in, soaping up, praising Vishnu (or Krishna or Buddha or the other 22 incarnations), playing, splashing, washing clothes, etc. Fine. But then the cows and buffallo show up and they do the same, only more deficating and less soaping. Then we passed a "burning ghat" where I saw, fo real, a body placed on a pyre and lit on fire while a crowd around it danced and shouted. Out of respect I took no pictures but that image was - for lack of a better way of putting it- fucking rediculous. But not the most rediculous/amazing thing I saw. After the burning passed by and I thought Id seen it all I noticed a large white floating mass in the water, "could it be one of the infamous ganges dolphins I had heard about" I asked Babu...he laughed (like a grizzled-sweethearted jerk) and as we approached I noticed it was a (again, apology) fucking corpse just floating there. A fucking corpse...like Ive seen dead bodies, errr and stuff, but bloated and floating! I wasnt scared, per se, just amazed that with all of this people were still brushing their teeth with the water. As we kept going I got more used to the idea of it all and a lesson that I had been learning about this whole trip finally solidified: its their world, not mine...their rules, their way of life...who am I to judge? I suppose Im really just a novice when it comes to thirdworld travel, because this understanding has been witnessed in those people Ive come across who are obviously seasoned, or at least more so than I. But its an important thing to figure out, that you almost dont even really exist here and you can use that to your advantage in ways that would otherwise be used against you. For instance, when I left Osho's commune I was tremendously sad because I had left the comfort of friends and the safety of community to again dive head-first into the chaos of India; a really poor country (economically). And upon diving I was really frustrated again with the whole place, the whole trip; much like how I was when I first got to Mumbai (which now I kinda wish I could spend more time in). I arrived in Aurangabad, after leaving Pune, and was immediately confronted with the same nuisances: rickshaws (more like trick-shaws)who take you everywhere you dont want to go and nowhere you do while charging 500% more, beggars who follow you around and moan and are all messed up in every imaginable way (think zombies...), child beggars who are mutilated or perform public acts of mutilation for what is the equivalent to a dime, and men (so many men) who you have to trust even though most of them lie blatantly. In Aurangabad I wanted to see the caves of Ajanta: buddhist temples and statues carved straight out of stone in the side of a mountain range/cliff/chasm. It was a three hour bus ride but luckily I met this really nice, super smart 24 year old from Bogata (looked totally Indian) who is finishing his travels before going to Yale for a phd in economics! We walked around together and chatted (like I have been doing almost every step of the way with some surprisingly awesome world-friend)and I learned a lot from him (about Indian traveling, how to deal with certain things, how to maximize a good time, etc.) and he from me (about America and Osho and how to deal with certain other things, etc.). The next day I just woke up late, still exhausted from not really sleeping for 27 hours, and read and wrote in my journal and meditated and took a walk...it was really nice to have nowhere to go and nothing to really do. I decided though, since there was actually nothing in Aurangabad left to do, to leave a day early. At the train station I was again pushed to the limit: a two hour line in 90deg heat with fifty-plus sweaty men ontop of me trying to cut in front/steal my ticket/rub up against me/breath dowm my next! I would have killed everyone in the room for a cold Duff beer just then and there. But I didnt. Instead I imagined the killing, swallowed it down (Freud would have a field day with me), and got my ticket and left. I didnt get robbed, I didnt get harassed (really)...it all happened, but the Indian way...not the American way. And then I began to realize the American way only works in America, so, again, who am I to think to change this system (however annoying it is). The same thing happened at the Manmad junction, where I waited for 5 hours for a 23 hour train to Varanassi. Men swarmed around me with every step I took (like flies, which abound here too!)and stared, stared, stared. I just kept to myself though, wrote in my journal, read my book, and moved on...with less urges to kill bubbling up inside me. And, in a way, I was rewarded for my patience: two nice students from Delhi approached me and we chatted (same topics: America, girls, India, girls, movies with girls in them, etc.). And again, it was nice. More so because in talking to them I learned that they too, even as Indians themselves, hated the same things about Indian which I did. Surely they are educated and more financially secure than the lying-mutilated-child-zombie-rickshawdrivers are, but something about hearing them gave me more to think about. And boy did I have time to think about it...23 hours in a small metal and plastic bed. Luckily again I was blessed to be seated with a family; three thirty/forty-something year old brothers from Northeastern India, working class cloth traders, taking their niece home from checking out a college in Pune. We talked almost the entire time, over chai and lentils, and after the first hour they treated me like a son: looking over my plans to make sure I knew/saw the best of everything, talking to me about "family" and its importance, teaching me about Indian cuisine and language. They even got mad at me when I went off with a twentysomething to have a cigarette and hang on the outside of the train (awesome..., well, not the cigarette so much...), soooooo cute! When I got off the train at Varanasi, and after talking out the totality of my naive-sounding perturbances with Indian culture (re: above) and being given a solution to each of the "problems", I approached the rickshaw driver with a large bat of confidence/assuredness: now my problems were gonna have a problem with me! And, to be expected, it went plesantly...the driver did exactly what I wanted, no lying, no taking me somewhere else, and he only charge me 100% mark up (4$ to go nearly 8 miles...). I felt soooooo good. And now, in this dirty, smelly, trixy place, I feel more capable of having a good time, at my own pace, in my own way, but in someone elses (third) world. Thats maybe why the Ganges boatride was so relaxing, despite its excessive morbidity. After the boatride I went for a walk. Funny enough I found a small Osho meditation room where four men were just sitting, two asleep. They were so happy for me when I told them my story (about which they asked for every small detail) and I wound up spending a lot of the day with them; even getting to do some Kundalini meditation (my favorite when at the commune) with the owner of the place later in the day. When I told them about being a sanyasin they all lit up with happiness; that same kind from the people at the celebration; the kind that says, "welcome home". It was such a blessing. I told them I needed a haircut (my hair has gotten too long and nappy to deal with this kind of heat) and they promptly brought me to the barber next door. For $2 I got my head cleanly buzzed (a 1, so its short but "nice and neat"), my back rubbed, and my joints cracked (neck, fingers, shoulders, etc.). The guys at the shop didnt know what to do with me at first, but because of this new energy I was giving off (an energy of acceptance of Indian culture and not an energy of annoyed defiance)they quickly got to liking me...maybe even a little too much: telling me about their daughters, all of whom are ready to marry (at age 14!...giggity giggity goo), about becoming a barber, etc. After that I took a walk through the chaos and it felt so nice and different from before. I walked along the ganges for a while, passed some of the ghats, and eventually found a wonderful handmade toys store. I got some thangs and am having them shipped home; nice trinkets from around India...the guy is a professional scavenger and has provided the traveller (me) with a one-stop "whatdidjagetmefromIndia" shop. That felt good too. As for where I go next, it will be Delhi, then Agra to see the Taj Mahal, then more north. The plans are unfolding with every step...as it feels it should be I suppose. So all of the pictures that I wanted to post have just finished uploading, and my story is over...for now. Im going to go eat some grub. As always, with love...
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