I was scared to come to Varanasi. I was dreading coming face-to-face with filth, desperation, and death. All of the guidebooks talk about it as an assault on the senses. It warns you about the touts, the dangers of its streets, and the dirtiness of its streets and waters. All things I fear. Colour me surprised when we get here to find something completely different.
Varanasi is very very beautiful, hauntingly so. It is strangely serene, immensely spiritual, and perfectly pure. It is as if the smoke from its externally burning funeral pyres covers the city in a blanket of serenity. People seem at peace with life and all its angry chaos. Maybe it is the effect of Mother Ganges or the purity of the believers' heart that centers this city. It almost makes me want to bathe in her waters.... fortunately or unfortunately, I can't get over the all of the bits life's flotsam and jetsam (think puja offerings, excrement, laundry, garbage, human remains, etc.) that are also included with the water to dip a toe in.
A couple of days ago as part of our guided tour if the city, AK and I had our first Ayurvedic massage. I was directed into a room by a burly man with an impressive porn moustache where I was met by a tiny tiny woman who proceeded to tell me to strip and get on the table facing up. Without any warning, she then proceeded to oil me up and, just as she started to pummel my right breast (yes you heard right...breast not chest) with vigour, she gave me a smile and asked me my name and where I am from. I learned two things in that moment. One - I am easy to interrogate. Two - my breasts have a range of motion that I was previously not aware of. I'm not sure I needed to know either of those two facts.
Ahhh... toilets. India has been a surprise. Everywhere we have gone, we have been met with clean, if somewhat damp due to the manual bidet system, facilities that puts North American potties to shame. Thank gods. I have however, learned to hoard toilet paper. Given the state of my bowels, it is a commodity more precious than gold.
Our time in Varanasi is almost up. We're off to Amritsar next.
Varanasi is very very beautiful, hauntingly so. It is strangely serene, immensely spiritual, and perfectly pure. It is as if the smoke from its externally burning funeral pyres covers the city in a blanket of serenity. People seem at peace with life and all its angry chaos. Maybe it is the effect of Mother Ganges or the purity of the believers' heart that centers this city. It almost makes me want to bathe in her waters.... fortunately or unfortunately, I can't get over the all of the bits life's flotsam and jetsam (think puja offerings, excrement, laundry, garbage, human remains, etc.) that are also included with the water to dip a toe in.
A couple of days ago as part of our guided tour if the city, AK and I had our first Ayurvedic massage. I was directed into a room by a burly man with an impressive porn moustache where I was met by a tiny tiny woman who proceeded to tell me to strip and get on the table facing up. Without any warning, she then proceeded to oil me up and, just as she started to pummel my right breast (yes you heard right...breast not chest) with vigour, she gave me a smile and asked me my name and where I am from. I learned two things in that moment. One - I am easy to interrogate. Two - my breasts have a range of motion that I was previously not aware of. I'm not sure I needed to know either of those two facts.
Ahhh... toilets. India has been a surprise. Everywhere we have gone, we have been met with clean, if somewhat damp due to the manual bidet system, facilities that puts North American potties to shame. Thank gods. I have however, learned to hoard toilet paper. Given the state of my bowels, it is a commodity more precious than gold.
Our time in Varanasi is almost up. We're off to Amritsar next.
I'm not sure WE needed to know either of those two facts.
ReplyDelete