Thursday, January 22, 2009

Weirdest City on a River





Varanasi wins the award. And I love it. This is the most relaxed I've been the entire trip. I would never have thought that some city taking 2nd or 3rd place to Agra, Jaipur, Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata, Goa, Kerala, etc... could be so interesting.

I've been wandering the arms' width alleys, the ghats, the vendors' shops that line the alleys, eating food from various restaurants just because they are there and menu's fare sounds delectable.

I had first real Indian yoga class here. No Western brand. I guess you could call it hatha for lack of a better descritption. Today I am feeling like iron thrown against the wall and turned to putty. Sooo good.

I've seen the two "burning" ghats where families' take their dead to be creamated on pyres near the holy Ganges. After the creamation, the ashes are let into the river. This is perhaps, for a Hindu, the most auspicious way to pass into the next life.

Tons of offers for boat rides on the Ganges. I've been laughing because the offer is "cheap for you my friend, only 100 rupees." But my wacky humor knows it's 100 rupees to the other side and 600 rupees back.

By the way, the ghats, what are "ghats"? Well, they are like piers but they run parallel to the river. each ghat has a somewhat distinct flavor and design. Some are more grandios than others - the ghats built by maharajas have spectacular temples and shrines.

Many Indians do bathe in the Ganges regardless of the water condition. And working in that particular profession, and even if you don't, I am amazed at the willingness with which people enter the water. There is absolutely no sewage control, trash control, water buffalo control, nothing. It struck me funny the contrast that when in CA, if we have a heavy rain, the beaches are closed due to 0.001 ppm of methyethyl death. We are truly blessed to have the environmental controls we have - sometimes I wonder about the excess we freak out. But, that's the way of the world of my friends. Now, the Indians see foreign tourists (department of redundancy department) as walking dollars, I see Indian pollution remediation as serious dollars.

So as Varanasi goes, it is a town that now I understand Dawn's description - "you are just so happy to actually make it back home to bed that night. That's the day's accomplishment." I now have lived that. Almost been crushed by a water buffalo in the alleys, or run over by a motorbike, or lost for ever into the black hole created by the Super Conductor below Switzerland - it is in Varanasi.

Bodhgaya


Siddhartha Gautama became no longer. He became Buddha.

This, nothing can negative can be said. The dust, dirt, and craziness was worth it again. I would need to outrun my smokers cough first.

All I say is: Devotion.

It's not often that someone can visit the exact location where a major spiritual transformation occurred. There are few places on Earth where you can feel this energy. I would say that once in a lifetime, experience the birthplace of any spirituality. At the time I was there, there was some Buddhist "convention" or gathering of some type - the name of which escapes me. That is not the point.

However, Bodhgaya was awash in the real maroon robes of life-long devotees of Buddha from around the Asian world. I visited their monasteries: Japan, Thailand, Tiawan, Indian, Bhutan, Indonesian, Nepali, Vietnam. If there was ever a Major Cool in the Army, this is where he served.

I have two photos: One is where Siddhartha sat for six years without food or water. In a little cave. In the middle of the desert. In the middle of a rock cliff.

The second photo is at the Mahabodhi Temple. After six years in the cliff cave, Siddhartha emerged (this is a greatly simplified story because I think 15 people want to use this computer) and sat under the Bodhi Tree and became enlightened. A descendent of the original Bodhi Tree grows at the exact location behind the golden Buddha. I was there at night so the photo did not turn out - but the video was perfect, especially with the chanting.

Where's Sponge Bob?




I feel like Sponge Bob Square Pants. One exception: Instead of little sponge holes, I have little rupee and USD signs printed all over me. Well anyway, such is the way of the way of the world.

I have no idea where I last left off. But I don't think you've heard of my typings of Goa. I'm talking "THE GOA" of hippies, free sex, drugs drugs, and rock and roll. Except with the latest spate of terrorism, the Goan government has cracked down on the hippies, clubs staying open past 10pm, no drugs or you get seriously screwed, no free sex anymore (gotta go to other countries for that now - the USA is your best bet). It's mostly a nice place to vacation for families and foreign couples looking to hide out under the beach umbrellas and get ayurvedic massages. Hey, not to bad.

The ironic realization? You, sitting there right now, can have the (almost) exact experience! No $2,000 airfare or breathing liquid dust for weeks. Just hop into your car and speed on over to Santa Cruz. I was amazed at the similarity - a bit Santa Cruz mixed with a bit more Caribbean and this is Goa. I liked it. Now, some experiences you can not get in Santa Cruz: My biggest enjoyment was floating in the sea. Wait. This is the Arabian Sea. Waaaay Awesome. The Arabian Sea. I thought of all the craziness and tragedy that has transpired in these waters. Yet these same waters, at that moment, were providing enjoyment for a few thousand people.

The other very Goan experience are the bamboo restaurants that are built to within 500 or 1,000 feet of the surf. I can have breakfast, lunch, dinner, and lots of beers while watching the waves and tides flow in and out. And really, that's mostly what Goa has up its sleeve. Oh yeah, I had a very tasty burger at this on joint (hahahaha) on the cliff. In Goa, apparently any food is not off limits.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

That's Hot. Paris is my binkie


The way of the world my friends.

LET THEM EAT CAKE

Where next

The past first:
Mumbai
Pune
Aurangabad
Ellora
Ajanta
Aurangabad to get to...
Pune to get to...
Mumbai to get to...
Goa
Bangalore to get to...
Mysore
Bangalore to get to...
Delhi to get to...

Then I said "I've had enough of the south, I'm going north, CA doesn't have the Himalaya.
Patna to get to...
Gaya to get to...
Bodhgaya
Varanasi
Agra
Jaipur
Haridwar to get to...
Rishikesh for a long time
Delhi to get to...
USA to get to...
In-N-Out

Some tata humor


These may be the most humongous TATA's you have ever seen. They come in pairs. No two are the same. And if you get too close to inspect these goods, hey, you've been warned. The upper TATA is more ornately decorated and I found it to be of a model. It is a three-axle TATA so it can carry more non-discriminatory goods. Now the lower model is a bit understated, a two-axle model, made to carry fewer, but specialized, goods. Both drivers are very very proud of their TATAs.

Lower than lowest. But I had to do it. I just had to.

At this point in time

Let's just call it "at this point in time" because I just said FAAHCK IT about time here. Certain people will understand this to their bone marrow. Now I understand this to my bone marrow. Add to this the noise, more noise, constant noise, Lonely Planet suggesting the rooms in the back are quieter, wear ear plugs - well guess what - it's all a load of bull crap. And I have the video to prove it. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I've gone nutso. I have dust up in the conch of my ear that even three hot/cold whatever temperature shower I can, when I can one, won't wash out that permacorundumdust. I just invented a new element. Not even q-tips help!

I can now see why so many religions exist in India - you have to turn yourself to something internal, universal, transient, or else the flesh would just vibrate itself into jelly. I am reminded of that scene in Airplane 2. Oy vey.

tendon. The trucks and Horns. Horns. Horns. Horns. Whistles. Whistles. Whistles. Whistles. I don't even know what sound is coming to bring me to my maker. And let me tell you, India, even the bicycles have right-of-way. Frisco bike Nazis would LOVE it here. The rickshaws will tear off your Achilles tendon, hope you have death and dismemberment insurance.

Time is of no consequence here. Two months. Wow, that's a long time. Two months. 1/6 of a year. One month in and I'm ready to run for the hills, get me to a monastery. Just hang out and do yoga. I think JD's idea of "nesting" is sounding lovely right about now.

If there are any bets about Matt: 1) never returning from India, or 2) how long Matt will last in India.

Answer: 1) definitely will return to the USA. Hopefully, at a minimum to outrun the liquid below the waist syndrome. Haven't broken into the Cypro yet. Some fellow Western travellers say hold off until you really x's 3 need it because it a gnarly dam damn of a blocker.

Answer: 2) I can not lie (well I can, just not well) that In-n-Out sounds exquisite. I could be like Cleopatra and lounge in a bathtub of #1 Animal Style, no tomato. But I tell my weak flesh, you can doooo eeet.

Time.