The Essence of Varanasi

Have you ever noticed how different forms of media often claim to represent, or accurately describe, the "essence" of something? Perhaps it's kind of obscure, and I won't blame you if you haven't made this observation. But I have, and maybe I'm just realizing it now because it's an India thing. I suppose I've seen this device used most often in books; for example, I just bought one that claims to be a consice overview of the "essence of Hindu religion" (I believe I mentioned in my last blog that I'm trying desperately to get a fingerhold on the theology / ideology of this intricate faith system). However, I doubt that it will succeed in this task, just as I will certanly utterly fail in describing the essence of Varanasi, the city that I've spent the last two days growing to love. But I'll make a doomed attempt anyways.

As you may already be aware, Varanasi is situated in the central-west portion of north India, alongside the mighty River Ganges. Indians call it the City of Shiva, a deity who is part of the triumvirate of major Hindu incarnations of God, along with Vishnu and Brahma (I'm sure that was horrible sentance structure / word choice, a tendency that unfortunately plagues this blog. My apologies.) It's a major destination for pilgrims from throughout the country, and has an indescribably spiritual air about it. The many rituals that take place here 24/7, 365 days a year revolve largely around the Ganges, which is considered the holiest river in India. An interesting example of a ritual is the "body burning" that I noticed soon after I arrived at my hostel, which looks out over a series of huge stone "ghats", or steps, that lead down to the river. Don't worry, the bodies are quite dead (at least to my best knowledge). Depending on one's caste status while they were alive, along with numerous other factors, they may qualify for a cremation ceremony after they pass away. After their cadavers are decorated with a variety of spices, oils and flowers, the former Hindus are taken down to the shore of the Ganges, where they are burned in a ceremony that is attended by friends and family. A good number of these processions are usually happening at the same time, all in a condensed section of the Ghats that is designated for this purpose. As this was happening pretty well right outside of my room, I was almost instantly welcomed by various chants, bell ringing, etc., as well as the surprisingly sweet smell of the cremation fires (remember that the bodies are thourougly "groomed", if you will, before they are burned). In conjunction with the other religious proceedings that occur on the riverbank, such as the constant meditation songs of devotees camped out along the Ghats, this creates an altogether surreal atmosphere.

The uniqueness of Varanasi extends beyond the riverbank, especially within the "Old City", which is composed of countless narrow alleyways that house various little shops and religious shrines, most of which occupy no more space than a hole in a wall. These alleyways, which are further characterized by clotheslines strung from building to building and frequent "cow-jams" (the alleys are often not much wider than the beasts themselves!), constitute a realization of the images that I had of India before I arrived (I'd love to post pictures but, as has constantly been the case, the web connection is simply not fast enough. I'll continue searching for an adequate portal from which to satisfy this blog's dire need for visuals).

Most of my time has been taken up by simlply exploring the city, whether by foot, boat, or bicycle-driven rickshaw (a first for me!). Today, however, the group mixed it up a little by taking a trip out to Sarnath, the location of the Buddha's first sermon. As well as visiting the exact spot where this specific lecture was delivered, we saw a number of other temples that have been erected by adherents to other country's forms of Buddhism. As I understand it, in the centuries after its inception, Buddhism assumed a number of different forms the varied from region to region, all of which have been described under the broad banner of "Maharana" (spelling?) Buddhism. This is in contrast to the "Theravada" sect of the religion, which is much more strict in it's adherence to the Buddha's specific teachings. I think the temples from the different countries represent the adaptions of Buddhism in the respective countries. I'm very likely off on this one - I really want to learn more about this religion, as well as Hinduism.

Time to sign off - have to visit the post office, and then head off to a dinner that's been arranged for a few of us in the group, by a well-connected fellow traveller from San Fran. Hope everyone up in Canada is enjoying the stiffening weather (hehe)! Phir milenge (until later)!

- Tom

Bonjour, mes dosts!

Basically, this combination of French and Hindi words (you Canadians should be able to differentiate between them, at least from the French side!) is a pretty miserable attempt by me to highlight the fact I'm in Pondicherry, France...uh, I mean India. Unsurprisingly, a lot has happened since I last blogged, most of which is associated with a significant amount of train travel (approx. 15 hours since I left Mysore). The remainder of my stay in that city was comparable to the first couple of weeks, which I think I sufficiently broke down in the previous couple of posts. The classes ended up being pretty interesting and decently easy, with the exception of Hindi, which reinforced the fact that I am absolutely inept at learning new languages. I seem to recall telling you about a fellow who invited me in off of the street one day - well, I went back and visited him a couple more times, though not nearly enough as I should have. Along with his wife, whose name I forget, Sejoy (spelling?) was eager to show me and my friends outstanding hospitality. I'm somewhat bitter at the fact that I had to do an increasing amount of schoolwork as the Mysore academic module went on, in the place of getting to know top-notch people like this better.

From Mysore we proceeded to take a train to Madurai, a prominent religious city in the extreme south of the subcontinent. The main religious monument there, the Meenakshi-Sundareswarar temple (think I used Wikipedia on that one?), was devoted specifically to the deity Shiva and his wife Meenakshi, who are incarnations of God according to Hindu religion (if I'm feeling really ambitious - and more informed than I am now - I may make a humble attempt at outlining Hinduism at some point in the next few months). Spanning 45 acres and in some portions dating back to the 15th century BC, the temple is recognized as one of the most important architectural landmarks in South Asia. I took the adjacent photo in one of huge chambers in the central area of the temple - our patient and pleasantly non-scheming guide informed us that this section was 3500 years old! Although its presence necessarily dictates huge numbers of tourists, it's still easy to get totally lost in the hubble-cabubble of the city, and not see a single westerner for a whole afternoon.

In contrast, the city that I've spent the last couple days in , Pondicherry, contains more white people than my Haliburton Highlands S.S. history class. The French only relinquished control of the region to the Indian Union in the late 50's, so the city is chock-full of French expats and a plethora of European tourists. As you can imagine, the town is somewhat divided into one area where the colonials made their nest (closer to the beach), and everything else, where the Indian majority resides. Contrary to the negative image this might advance, however, an impressive harmony seems to have developed between Indians and Westerners - although they live in separate parts of the city, it becomes evident that their everyday lives are greatly interlinked. For example, as I was walking over to the internet cafe this morning, I saw European expats and Indians alike driving their kids to school on the backs of their scooters, and it seems commonplace to see Westerners haggling vendors at the fruit market like any Indian would. All in all, it seems like a really neat type of syncretic culture has developed. At least that's the conclusion that I've come to based on my limited experience here - in reality, I suppose, the picture might be much less rosy, and the more negative aspects of colonialism much more pronounced.

Tomorrow morning we take a bus to Chennai (formerly Madras) where, after a day of doing the tourist-thing, we're going to catch a train to Varanasi in the state of Uttar Pradesh. My first taste of the north is going to come at a price, however; specifically, 20+ hours lounging around in the second class cabin. I've actually quite enjoyed the train thus far, as it really is a mosaic of sights and sounds, ranging from the SLR-worthy landscape views to the amusing drone of the food and drink vendors. The funniest example of the latter is the "chai-wallahs", or tea sellers, who walk up and down the aisles droning "chai chai, tea chaiiiiaa, chaii chaii." Remarkably, they all sound the same on every train you step onto. I can see it becoming irritating eventually, but for now, its just one of those pleasurably-unique qualities of this country that is really making the trip.

As you may recall, I promised pictures by the time I get to Jaipur. I'm going to try and fulfill that pledge a bit early, but there's no guarantees that I'm going to be able to upload many - if any - before my ADD tendencies kick in.


Cheers,
Tom

(note: as you can see, I managed to get one photo up, but apparently I don't know how to use Blogger, and can't figure out how to put in captions, etc. Also, it's taking way too long in this cafe, so I'll probably wait until I get to a place where I can surf for free.)

Photos

Due to the fact that, as I've already mentioned, the internet connectivity at this institute is more unpredictable than Vince Carter's health, I have a pretty short window. So I'm going to keep it short. Some of you may be wondering why I haven't posted photos on this blog, and I'm sure many of you are assuming it's because I'm an unsentimental photo-pooper. Correction: I'm an unsentimental take-30-copies-of-the-same-freakin-photo-with- your-camera-phone pooper! Wow, that felt good!

I've actually taken quite a few photos, many of which are pretty darn good, if I do say so myself. However, for the same reason that I'll probably get booted off the net and lose this blog post when I try and submit it, it's wayyyy too painful for me to try and upload hundreds of megabytes worth of material at this location. Unless I randomly find some DSL utopia, I'm afraid everyone's going to have to wait until I get to Jaipur (late February, I think.)

Thanks for your patience!

- Tom