Varanasi: It seems that finding yourself is really all about losing yourself many times over.

Back from Varanasi, from the beginning:

The train ride- Sleeper Class Non-AC, was amazing (on the way to Varanasi)!! & it was what I was most fretting about. I had a middle bunk & everytime I woke up we were in a different place- I had about 1/3 of the window and the breeze felt amazing. I couldn't wait to get back on.

The first day, we met Boris, from Belgium. He was over 6'3" and a great person to befriend. He already knew a lot about the city- including where to eat, where to go at night- he also drank the local water. Hardcore.

We spent pretty much the entire trip sitting on the "Ghats" by the Ganges river, just people watching (while people watched us). The 1st day we went to a Hindu ceremony the first night and afterwards, several poor families lines up on the stairs with plates out, begging for food. Boris bought Rs 100 worth of rice and passed it out. We found Baba, a priest, who blessed us with a blood red dot on our forehead and tied red bracelets around our wrists.

The 2nd day, we awoke at 455 for a morning sunrise boat ride on the Ganges. We went to three temples, one named "The Monkey Temple" where we bought Rs 20 worth of random sweets- including a bright orange ball that tasted like donut holes. We came back for a 4 hr siesta and headed back to the ghats. We had lunch at "Spicy Bites", that unfortuentely had run out of falafel and Hummus, it's Israeli specialty. Jess and I headed out to watercolor but by the time we reached a spot, the sun was going down fast. I came up with a somewhat decent boat painting but not before several young girls selling postcards came wishing to draw as well. It was really nice to spend time with the local children, as we were already missing our center.We taught each other hindi/English songs and of course, did the Hokey Pokey 3 times. Then, I got my fortune read, which wasn't fortunate at all.

So, I will be getting married in 2013. I will have 2 boys and 1 girl. I will die very happy, but of a HEART ATTACK at age 55 or 56! I guess we'll see.

On the last day, Jess, Boris and I boarded a boat for the other side of the river. Then.....shhh...we actually got IN the Ganges. It was disgustingly incredible. Yes...I DID read that article in the Lonely Planet describing the lethal toxicity of the river... But I've done crazier things. Plus, what doesn't kill you just makes your stronger, right? Then, we grabbed some pancakes (!) and scrambled eggs (!).

After showering back at the hotel, this seriously mental cycle rickshaw driver took us to literally the furthest ghat away from the one we asked for and we split, walking the river's edge in the worst heat of the day. I trekked the ghats about 45 minutes before hitting an area that you couldn't pass without going through an alley- which, of course, i got way lost within. I found a lot of photogenic goats, children, temples, walls, alleys, monkeys and even radio stations and dubbed Varanasi, India the most photogenic place I ever been in my life. Seriously. I ook over200 digital photos and went through 4 rolls of film. Eventually, i found my way. I quite enjoyed losing myself, although Jess's earphones wouldn't stay in my ears, so I couldn't drown out the following phrases being shouted my way:

"Hallo!" "Shalom, Madam!" "hola!" Want to see my shop?" "Want Hash, miss? Lsd?" "Where you stay" "Where you go" "need a boat, miss?" & so on.

I got lost again, but I got really lost. The signs went from English to Hindi to Arabic. I saw a beautiful mosque and a couple young boys let me take a picture of them. Eevntually, after asking 4 or 5 times, i made my way back and met up with Jess and Boris near the main ghat, but not after meeting an Indian poet who let me read his English poem in progress. We saw the postcard selling girls again and did the Hokey Pokey, but when we got to "You put your head in.." the Varanasi police approached and the girls froze, went pale, ad backed up. The police started shouting in Hindi and two of the girls fled. Muni, the one remaining was being interrogated and the police man smacked her on the back of the head. She grabbed her bag and he smacked her on the back of her head as she ran away crying- leaving her shoes behind. What's the problem? we asked the men, but they just stared at us and turned away. Then, after Boris asked again, one muttered something about stolen cameras. All of our stuff was intact. I miss my postcard friends.

Back in Delhi and the air is cooler. The train ride back was not so peaceful. We are paying to take al the children and staff to the Zoo on Thursday- it should be an adventure.

Namaste
e