Standing up for myself in India, getting to know the Buddha in Sarnath, and the warm-up to puja, Varanasi style (Varanasi)

August 13

Not surprisingly, the overnight train from Agra to Varanasi wasn’t the most relaxing experience.  My Spanish bunkmates roused around 5:30 am, a good thing because we arrived in Varanasi at 6:00 and I had no idea what time we were supposed to arrive.

I followed the Spaniards to the main arrivals hall which, as expected in India, was very busy.  I stood there waiting to be found.

Not long after, my London friends Josh and Aaron arrived, looking none the worse for wear after their evening in AC3, one class below my train car. Miraculously, my Varanasi driver found me amidst the hubbub. I asked if we could give my friends a ride to their hotel. Oh no, the answer, their hotel is very far away. I’m sure.

I called Devesh, the Varanasi guide recommended by the October 2008 Departures Magazine whom I had organized before I left Canada. Sure enough, the boys’ hotel was in fact very close to the Surya where I was staying – go figure. So I explained to my driver, Babu, and his greeter sidekick that I had my own guide and that Josh and Aaron would be joining me.  They respond that they want to take me to their boss. By this point in my trip I am prepared to put my foot down. Firm, but gentle, I insist they take the boys to their hotel before dropping me off.  Babu furrows his brows, then smiles in agreement.

When I arrive at my hotel my room isn’t ready, so I head to the restaurant for breakfast. Inexplicably, all the fruits in my fruit salad are canned except for the banana. I am delighted to discover my hotel warmly embraces the standard issue Indian paper napkins which feel like they’re coated in plastic and disintegrate immediately upon exposure to food.  The table runners are filthy, and the bamboo centerpiece has a drowned fly.

My grotty Varanasi hotel room

On that theme, I arrive to my grotty room and discover the bathroom has a few mosquitoes swirling around. No wonder – you could fit a raccoon through the gap under my balcony door. For the first (and as it turned out, only) time on my trip, I set up my mosquito net.  Then I chuckled at the pathetic toilet paper provision and laughed when my Indian phone plug didn’t fit in the outlet.

I waited for Devesh in the lobby.  I plugged my phone into the outlet and it rang – it was Devesh calling from two metres away to confirm I was me.  What followed was a large discussion with Babu who insisted that I go to the office to speak with his boss.  I gave Babu a straightforward choice: either he takes us with a tip that would recognize his extra effort, or we get a new driver.  Babu passed his cell phone to Devesh who then passed it to me, explaining that they didn’t believe I had booked Devesh from Toronto. Sighing, I spoke to the boss (who, unusually is a woman, or perhaps a man with a very high voice) and firmly explained my position.  Phone went back to Devesh then to Babu.

“Okay, all set,” Devesh says. That was easy.

Sarnath

We picked up Josh and Aaron and drove to Sarnath where the Buddha first began teaching and which consequently became a major religious centre after the 4th century C.E. Devesh revealed within two minutes why he came so highly recommended.  He was smart, funny, had a perfect command of English and was a bewitching storyteller.  By the time we arrived he was mid story and the three of us were captivated.

The "faux" Buddha

Pilgrims' gold rubbings

We visited a Buddhist temple which had the story of the Buddha painted by a Japanese painter and a sandstone Buddha made to look like gold.  Devesh explained that according to the Buddha, the source of all our confusion is greed: when you have nothing you lose all anxiety.  When you see the Buddha holding his fingers in a circle it represents “undoing the knot”, or releasing the confusion of life. I was so inspired I bought the book “What Would Buddh Do?” Ah, the Buddha – the MacGyver of the ancient world.

We strolled the grounds, admiring the massive bodhi tree and visiting the Ashoka temple ruins where pilgrims rubbed gold leaf on the ruins for good luck.  We strolled clockwise around the Dhamek Stupa (a “stupa” being a mound shaped like an upside down alms bowl which stores Buddhist relics), followed for a while by a persistent child asking for chocolate. We surrendered to the tutelage of Aaron who had spent two weeks in a Thai Buddhist monastery and taught us to solemnly repeat “Om mani padme hum”. Aaron then described how, after a week of 16-hour days of silence, he made a ninja run for the fence to get cigarettes.  After that we visited the Jain temple where we learned there are two kinds of Jains: those who wear white and those who wear nothing.  We saw neither. Jains do not believe in harming any living beings; they won’t even eat onions or garlic for fear of offending the bacteria that live on such beings. I was intrigued when Devesh said that most Jains were stingy businessmen. Hmmm.

Weaving the good ole' fashioned way

Yet again, the inevitable craft shop pilgrimage. In Varanasi they’re known for their silks with metallic thread. Our craft shop hosts claimed the process for weaving silk hadn’t changed in the last 200 years. Having visited the primitive conditions of the weaver, I can believe it. Boy, did we sure learn about making silk!  The silk thread comes from Bangalore. The spools of copper wire are cleaned in a large vat of sinister-looking blue chemical whose fragrance permeates the air and then polished in sawdust. It’s dyed into metallic colours (silver, gold) after which a machine mixes the silk thread with the coloured wire, making metallic silk thread.  The weaving is done piece work all over the city. The weaving machine uses punch cards that instruct the machine which threads to weave.  Thus the pattern is created.   Of course my immersive silk education led to a scarf purchase.

Josh, Aaron and I treated Devesh to lunch at my hotel which Devesh claimed was one of the best restaurants in Varanasi. I recalled my dubious breakfast in silence.  But I have to admit – the palak paneer, dal makhani, garlic nan, pineapple raita, babganoush and mango lassi were pretty awesome.

Heading to the ghat in Varanasi

Devesh then organized the two bike rickshaws to take us to the ghat for the evening Hindu ceremony by the Ganga, the Ganges.  I was so excited – going to evening puja in Varanasi is one of the most quintessential Indian rituals you can experience!  And the rickshaw ride there?  Spectacular, amazing, incredible, fabulous.  As the streets got increasingly busy, you could feel the happy energy surge. All kinds of people – locals, pilgrims, holy sadhus, tourists from all over the world – were flowing down the road to the ghats, the riverbank steps. Although technically no vehicular traffic is allowed, our rickshaw drivers stealthily bribed the police to let us pass – without us noticing.  Given the rickshaw congestion, this was clearly common practice and undoubtedly very lucrative for the gatekeepers.

“Quick, look over there!” Devesh said, pointing to the textile store to our right.

“What the…?” I started.  Inside the shop was a giant ox. According to Devesh, the ox has been visiting the store on a daily basis for years. He causes no problems, and even leaves the store to relieve himself before coming back in. This ox was famous enough to make the pages of the Toronto Star.

Jupiter Temple

We passed the Jupiter Temple, the only temple in the world dedicated to worshipping the planet Jupiter. Luckily it was Thursday, the only day of the week the temple is operational. And by golly, it was busy.

If this was the opening act, I couldn’t wait for the main show!