Morning in Varanasi - ClaudiAntics - BootsnAll Travelogues

October 13, 2003

Morning in Varanasi

On our last day in Varanasi, Claudia and I thought about taking a sunrise boat ride up the Ganges. She's still not feeling quite up to snuff though, so after getting up at 5:30 we talked it over and decided not to go. She went back to the room to rest, but I needed some solo exploration time. I hit the streets and promptly got myself lost.

It was great. I started turning down random alleys and side streets, sometimes coming to dead ends, sometimes to ghats, sometimes to other twists and turns. The whole time, I carried my little notebook with me (I always have at least one), and stopped here and there to scribble down observations. Here's some of them:

Cows are four-legged land mine factories.

Empty lot with a locked gate; in the grass inside, 4 Indian guys, maybe teenagers?, playing cricket.

Woman in a pink sari, sweeping her front stoop and the street in front with the only full-length broom I've seen. Usually people sweep by squatting on the ground, and swishing about a short broom - they have to be close to the ground to use it.

Hardly any touts at 6 a.m. - I could walk in peace. (Usually there are tons of people trying to get your attention: "Rickshaw?" "Boat?" "Silk?" on and on and on...)

Varanasi is waking: people bathe and do chores, drink chai from street stalls, sweep. Music plays everywhere, and you overhear Hindi conversations and radio broadcasts. The difference between now and later in the day, is that now you can hear these things distinctly. Each sound has its own discernible source; each chat requires only an understanding of Hindi to know, not state-of-the-art eavesdropping equipment.

"Hello, boat?" "No thanks." A nod, then silence. Effective communication is pretty easy. We Yanks could learn a thing or two.

A shirtless man mutters melodic prayers as his young son and daughter play outside the family door.

A procession/ parade forms for "The Holy Advent Centenary Celebration of Swami Asimananda Saraswati". The most recent additions to the ranks wee 6 women in scarlet and cream saris. Walking in the opposite direction, 3 schoolboys, dressed all in white, banter and whack each other in the head with their books.

Varanasi is a sensory city, and right now the highlighted sense is sight. In the early morning light, colors are bright yet soft; rainbows are everywhere, from the faded buildings that seem held up by their paint, to the saris of every hue worn by women, who along with the men in the procession, have raised a powerful whoop. Lone notes play; drums are beaten; it's a call to a sort of mobile prayer?, and the masses walk, guided in front and behind by large orange banners. Almost immediately, a diesel-coughing traffic snarl forms behind the procession, and the horns drown out the drums.

Men do laundry in the river. They swing wet clothes through the air and beat them on small stone benches on the bank's edge. They swing, beat, swing, beat, then lay the clothes on a bench and scrub.

I'm a white man traveling in India. It's very liberating, at least from a pure traveler's perspective. See, when you travel in a place like New York City, you aren't supposed to give away your secret identity as a tourist: Don't open a map on the street; Don't walk slow; Don't look up. I'm standing just in front of a temple, maybe 6, 7 stories tall. The terraced roof is adorned with intricate figures up to a top I can't see, and I've been craning my neck for 5 minutes. Some precautions I just don't need to take. I'm a tourist - or a traveler, whatever word du jour you want to use. I'm a white guy in Varanasi; everyone knows I'm a tourist. I'll look up and in awe as much as I want. Now where's that map?

Ad above a shop: shirtless man in red "Bacteria Resistant Briefs". He's smiling, and holding a grinning girl. The slogan? "Prepare to get assaulted". Grrrr-owl. I chuckle every time I see one of these.

A pre-teen boy opens and walks through a gate. I step out of his way. "Good morning sir," he says, smiling. I smile back. "Good morning." "How are you today?" "I'm well. And you?" "I'm well." He walks off. "Have a nice day sir," he says, with a last look and grin. "You too." I like Varanasi in the morning.

Posted by Ant on October 13, 2003 10:52 AM
Category: India

Comments

Awesome, thanks for letting us walk with you.

You are a great writer.

Posted by: socalgirl on October 14, 2003 06:49 PM

That was indeed awesome Ant. I love how you capture the small details that others may not think to record. I was previously thinking of bringing a video camera to "record" my memories, but just seeing it written down like that is just as effective. I bet when you look back at your words, it will all come flooding back.

Thanks!

Posted by: Dewbie on October 15, 2003 12:55 PM

Ant and Claudia: how poetic you are, both in your own ways. We've been enjoying your adventures and the romance of your journeys. You're making India really come alive. I can see Varanasi. By the way, what exactly are "bacteria resistant briefs"?

Posted by: bea on October 15, 2003 11:20 PM

What are bacteria-resistant briefs? Honestly, I don't want to find out. But considering how balls hot-and-muggy the climate out here is, I can see where you might want as much microbe-resistance as possible around your nether regions. Maybe I should buy a pair - nah... Claudia'd probably kill me, and it would be justified.

Posted by: Ant on October 16, 2003 03:58 AM

Underwear ads are some of the most amusing ones in India. There are briefs paintings EVERYWHERE. Also, they have huge photos of very buff pseudo-Indian men wearing Jockeys or whatever. Show me where those Indian men are bc the ones I've seen are slightly different. ;)

Posted by: Claudia on October 16, 2003 04:06 AM

Hey great piece of writing Ant! Brings back memories...:-)

Posted by: holythunder on October 29, 2003 02:20 PM

Just finished writing my last exam. Thanxs for the great comments on your website.( all though i think my parents are not normal) Ek woup jy het `n baie goie vakansie voor jou en alles van die beste.

P.S-

Posted by: Jannie on November 2, 2003 03:30 AM