No longer in India

It has been nearly a year since we got back from India and I still reminisce about the adventures we had.

After India we visited a few places, Istanbul, Barcelona, to name a few. Since I have started this blog, and I don't really know how to change the title of the blog, I'd love to continue writing about our adventures.

So, if you are interested, please keep reading! 

Varanasi - the holiest and dirtiest place in India

What trip to India would be complete without a visit to the holiest place in India - Varanasi? I had heard many things about Varanasi - some positive and some not so positive. I was looking forward to visiting an amazing place, full of life and insight into the religious side of India. I wasn't looking forward to making sure I didn't get sick from eating the food and staying clean in what was supposed to be the dirtiest place in India. I had heard that Varanasi was a place that people went to die and read that whilst a cruise down the river was a must do, don't be surprised if there are floating bodies in the river. Overall, it sounded like an interesting place - a little eerie at the same time.

After a lengthy train delay, we arrived in Varanasi and got picked up by an auto rickshaw. It was just our luck that we arrived at the station just as it started thunder storming. The auto ride was not fun and I thought we would topple over on more than one occasion. Out auto stopped at a street and we were informed that we would have to walk the rest of the way to our guest house. For once we were not staying in a hotel as the only hotel in town that had rooms available was super expensive, so we settled on a guest house with reviews noting it was clean and had a great location (as it was by the river and within walking distance of many ghats). We were led down twisted steep streets, some unpaved and hopped over pools of water, around cows in the tight lanes and cow pats (lots of them). At this point, I wasn't sure we were actually going to make it but thankfully we did. Whilst the guest house was not what I expected. The sheets were sort of clean and the bathroom very basic. It most certainly wasn't 3 star - something tells me that that guest house was self rated. Our trip was not off to the best start.

Sunrise over the Ganges

We had booked a walking tour of Varanasi and our guide was very knowledgable. We took a sunrise boat ride to watch the Arti ceremony celebrating and giving thanks for the day ahead. The ceremony not only involved the priest but also men over a certain age in the community. The musical instruments they used purified the air - it was pretty cool seeing people with such strong beliefs in their every day practice. We sailed past men washing laundry on the river. Our guide said something along the lines of "I don't know how they can wash the clothes here, dry them here and still keep them so clean." As I was positive that our bed sheets were washed here, I didn't have the heart to tell him that they weren't actually as clean as he thought they might be. I was also a little disturbed that only a few hundred metres upstream was the cremation ghat.

Morning Arti Ceremony

Sheets being washed and dried on the Ganges

Ghats by the river

Fresh paneer being sold

We walked through the backstreets and lane ways, through the areas where silk factories spun silk saris. Varanasi is famed for its wedding sari production as the intricate wedding saris woven in gold and silver thread originated from Varanasi. We visited the temple inside the university, lane ways selling fresh milk and cheese products, wholesale saris and fabrics, many temples and even a mosque.





We visited an ashram where men who have completed their worldy duties and dealt with their responsibilities retire to and live out their lives in religious contemplation. These holy men spend their days debating religious philosophy. It seemed like a place where people go to prepare themselves spiritually for death as they let go of their worldy life and make peace with themselves. Besides housing these holy men, the ashram provided accommodation for people who wanted to live there until their own deaths. It is believed that as Varanasi is a holy place, it is most auspicious to be born or pass in Varanasi. As such, Varanasi is sort of like a hospice for older people.

Basic possessions of the Holy Man

Holy Men in the Ashram

In the evening we were back on the river, cruised past the cremation ghat. The Hindu funeral rituals involve embalming the corpse in sandalwood and ghee, before it is purified by dipping it in the Ganges. The corpse is then placed on a pyre and cremated at the ghat. The ghats are operational 24 hours a day, so it is quite common to see up to 10 cremations happening at the same time.

Evening Arti performance - more like a dance performance than a religious ritual

I'm not sure whether I was inspired by the spirituality of the city, but I definitely left wanting to know more about Hinduism and the many stories that are told and also thinking that if I could handle a weekend hopping over cow pats and using my hand sanitizer religiously, I can really handle travelling to any city in India.

Wedding Season

Since we landed in India it has been wedding season. Weddings tend to take place over winter as the weather is ideal for large outdoor gatherings. Whilst I usually associate winter with cold miserable rainy weather, in India, winter is cool and comfortable for most of India with temperatures ranging from the mid teens to high twenties (except for the North where it can be close to zero degrees celcius and in some parts, even lower). As such, it is the favourite season for travelling (especially down south) and outdoor wedding parties.

There are multiple ceremonies and rituals undertaken for a marriage over several days – typically for up to a week in total. Different people from different parts of India will place emphasis on and conduct ceremonies differently. Like in all cultures, weddings can be large or small, simple or lavish. Staying at the hotel, we witnessed many wedding party set ups on the grounds of the hotel. They seemed like rather lavish affairs with a welcome desk in the lobby, a concert stage for a live band and multiple buffet stations scattered around the venue. I later learned that a large wedding was the norm with some weddings hosting up to a thousand guests. During our time in India, we were lucky enough to attend 3 weddings – all slightly different to each other.

Our first wedding was a South Indian Brahmin wedding of our friends from Sydney. The wedding was held in Chennai at a temple in the morning. We arrived after breakfast to learn that the groom had been fasting all night and been up at 6am to conduct religious rituals before the marriage ceremony. Some notable moments included:

• 
  the groom walking away from the ceremony venue, religious book and cane in hand with the bride’s parents chasing after him to convince him not to leave his worldly life and to come back and marry the bride (luckily for us, he had already made up his mind and this was ceremonial more than anything else)
• blessing the bride and groom by throwing flowers at them during the marriage ceremony, and
• enjoying a traditional vegetarian lunch on a banana leaf without the use of utensils – only hand sanitiser and a pappadam as a spoon.

Our second wedding was a typical Bengali wedding in Kolkata. The wedding was for a colleague from work who is of Bangladeshi origin. I learned that it was usual for everyone in the immediate team to be invited to the wedding, so all 30 of us attended. Typically, you are only invited to the party which your colleague pays for. In this case, it was the wedding party hosted by the groom. The wedding was held in a marriage hall. We met the bride for the first time (quite common for attendees to only know either the bride or groom before the wedding) and presented her with our gifts. Then it was onto the buffet. The wedding party was an eating fest for guests and (like some Chinese weddings) the guests left pretty promptly after dinner.

The third wedding was the Sangeet party for another colleague from work. Whilst the couple grew up in Kolkata, their families were of Rajasthani origin, and both families run successful businesses. As such, they held a large opulent Sangeet party at the Royal Calcutta Golf Club. The Sangeet party was a celebration of music and dance where family members perform dances for the bride and groom. At this particular party, the bride and groom also performed a dance. It was a very Bollywood affair with official compares, back up dancers, smoke machines and a Cinderalla carriage from which the bride emerged. An amazing party and production.

Weddings are big business in India with professional wedding planners, large venues and hundreds and hundreds of guests. There might be differing views on arranged and love marriages but regardless, the parties are amazing!

Traffic Indian style

While the use of the horn is a rare thing in Sydney, it is essential here to let the driver in front or at the side know there is someone close. Especially because the concept of individual lanes is a foreign one here. So think of the "beep beep" as more of a a courtesy call rather than a "F*(!@ OFF MATE!".

This short video captures this sentiment.

It is not just cars that you have to deal with when on Indian roads, it is also rickshaws (those pulled by riders as well as walkers).

Autorickshaws

And of course pedestrians

Streets of Old Calcutta

Having been away for Christmas and New Years it was quite nice to spend a weekend in Kolkata. We organised to go out to a few areas of the city with a religious flavour - the Flower Market and Kumartuli.

When we informed our driver we wanted to head out to the Flower Market, he seemed a bit concerned ("Not good area"), however, we insisted on going and he reluctantly drove towards the Flower Market. The Flower Market is located at the foot of the Howrah Bridge near the Mallick Ghat by the river. When we arrived, our driver took our mobile number and gave us his, made us miss call him and leave valuables in the car. This was a little intimidating. We felt a little better when we saw another car of tourists arrive.





We walked through the market passing vendors selling all types of flowers strung onto garlands and walked up to Howrah Bridge for a better view of the action beneath. Vendors were calling out, advertising their flowers and making sales. Through the tourist eye, I'm not sure what differentiated each seller, but I am sure that there were subtle differences of quality and a network of relationships that moved each sale. We stood on the bridge and watch the vendors pile up garlands on the purchasers (who moved on to sell their garlands outside temples throughout the city) - they looked like they were wearing a big puff coat of garlands - quite cool.

We walked through the markets where shopkeepers threaded ornate flower arrangements and safely made our way back to the car - much to the relief of our driver.

His relief was momentary as we then asked him to drive to Kumartuli, an area in which artists make idols ("Far, bad traffic, many car"). But we managed to get there within 15 minutes.

Kumartuli is a suburb in Northern Kolkata where idol artists live and work. The artists create sculptures of Hindu idols, mainly of the goddess Durga (Durga Puja is one of the most celebrated religious festivals in West Bengal - it celebrates the goddess' triumph representative of good over evil). Some artists tied together straw into shapes of the goddess, horses, mythical creatures forming the skeletons of the sculptures. Others layered clay over the straw skeletons forming the body of the sculptures. We watched in awe as they sculpted details with their bare hands working an amazing level of detail. There were intricate backgrounds, detailed facial features and the draped fabric was reminiscent or renaissance art.

All in all, it was pretty awesome to watch.

The joys of being a tourist in India

(The first of an occasional series, this a special guest post from "Mr Reney".)

From pushy autorickshaw drivers, to the aggressive souvenir sellers at every tourist attraction and those all-too-helpful "officials" at train stations, being a tourist in India is hard work.

But the rewards make it all worthwhile.

Let's start from the beginning. Having enjoyed the delights of Christmas in a lovely Kolkata home, we hit the road for the well-trodden triangle of Delhi, Agra and Jaipur.

The flight to Delhi was uneventful, and we counted five separate ID checks between the entrance to the terminal building (No.1) to the security guard standing just before the aerobridge for one last look after you scan your boarding pass.

Red Fort, Delhi

Streets of Old Delhi

Red Fort is simply stunning, and a joy to behold after walking through the busy nearby streets with the sounds of the car horns blaring. We also dined at the same restaurant Bill Clinton did, visited the excellent Indira Gandhi museum and learned about trains at national railway museum ahead of our ride to Agra.

Snack tray, train from Delhi to Agra

We were repeatedly warned not to talk to anyone at the station ("there are plenty of cheater men at the station," the taxi man cautioned us). Despite this, when went to New Delhi Railway Station to find our train delayed a man in an official looking blue coat told us to go to another station to take an earlier train and buy a ticket at the local tourist office on the way. He would even bargain the autorickshaw driver down to 20 Rupees. Why did I follow him towards the rickshaw as part of a well-known scam? Who knows? Thankfully, sanity, in the form of Reney, prevailed and we went to the international tourist office at the station to sort out new tickets for an earlier train. It sure felt better to be on the train rather than hanging around the station with the word "target" on our heads.

There are inflated prices for just about everything - taxis, souvenirs, even beer. The bottle shop owner tried to convince us the Maximum Retail Price on the bottle was not the actual price because it "doesn't include duties". A local we spoke to described it as the "skin tax" - the lighter your skin colour the more they charge you. While you can put it down to just part of being a tourist, it does wear you down.

However, when you wake up at the dawn of a new year and, after a cup of hot masala tea, walk through the gates into one of the world's most majestic structures you can't help but feel it is all worth it. Travelling in India may not be the smoothest of journeys, but it is one we will always treasure.

The Taj Mahal (almost)

And there it is!

Christmas Away from Home

Everyone has a different idea of how Christmas should be spent. Growing up in Australia, Christmas conjures up images of surfing Santa, Koalas with sunglasses and Santa hats on…oh wait, that's just the cheesy souvenir cards I am picturing at the Post Office. Christmas to me is a BBQ with family and friends with lots of fresh seafood, meat, and even some salads. Lunch might be followed by contemplation of heading out to a beach. This contemplation is shortly followed by discussion on not being able to find a car parking spot, not being sober enough to drive, importance of air conditioning and ultimately, how lazy everyone is feeling.

Before leaving Australia we had contemplated having a white Christmas as I have never experienced one of these before. We had even mapped out train travel though Estonia and Christmas markets in Berlin. However, we ended up staying in Kolkata for Christmas. I have to say that I was a little curious as to how Christmas would be celebrated in a country dominated by Hindus, Sikhs and Muslims.

Christmas day is a national public holiday (but boxing day isn't). Park Street - a street full of restaurants and clubs - is lit up with Christmas lights. Shopping centres are filled with excited shoppers, friends catching up and Christmas displays. It was quite festive and fun.

We ended up spending Christmas day lunch with some friends from Sydney who happened to be in town visiting their family. The family put on an amazing lunch - veggies in gravy, massive prawns, mutton curry and bhekti - local river fish. It was so nice to be out in the burbs enjoying non-air-conditioned air and getting to know new friends over a gin and tonic.

It's kind of amazing that we were spending Christmas day on the terrace of a friend's family's house in suburban Kolkata. I suppose it just shows that you never really know what adventures life will take you on.