Update from Varanasi
Trip Start
Nov 15, 2008
1
7
18
Trip End
Feb 12, 2009
Varanasi,
Uttar Pradesh,
India
Friday, December 5, 2008
As we headed up a valley in the morning of the 20th in a taxi with our Sherpa guides, Tenzin and Pasang, we found ourselves in the tiny town of Khare, and as we headed up the hills on steep steps we found the temperature rising quickly and the terrain with it! Nonetheless, we walked through amazing scenery through to the village of Tolka, all the time with majestic scenery of the Annapurnas and the sacred mountain of Macchapucchre or Fishtail...absolutely astounding!
Day two was much harsher as we headed up very steep ascents, through dramatic gorges cut by flowing Himalayan rivers to the town of Jhinu Dhanda, where we splurged on a Western meal of veggie burgers...heading up an even more steep incline, we reached the day's destination of Chhomrong, a beautiful village nestled between two valley on a hillside. The beauty quickly faded as I realised I had food poisoning, delaying us for a day and meaning that I vomited without end for about a day and a half. This set us back by a whole day, as well as weakening me terrible before the hardest part of the trek. Nonetheless, we continued on after a day of rest, and reached beautiful Dovan. The air was foggy, and so everything was wet. The temperature was decreasing, but I was kept in good humour by the 78 year old Salvatore, from Rome, and his neighbour Carlo. Salvatore tried, in vain, to teach me Scopa, the Italian card game, so that Sash and I could keep entertained during the long days in the lodges once we arrived at our destinations.
We trekked up wanting to make it to Annapurna Base Camp (ABC) in one day, but the walk, the cold, and the wetness proved too much for Sash, who collapsed once we reached Macchapucchre Base Camp...so we stayed there the night, freezing and getting what seemed to be frost-bite. Nonetheless, although we had no blankets or heaters, and a sleeping bag that went to -5 (the temperature was -10 unfortunately!), in the morning, after Sash's recovery, we headed up to ABC and watched the sunrise over the Annapurnas, at 4100m above sea level, abose so much and feeling an amazing sense of awe. We then made our descent back towards Naya Phul, which took two and a half days, before spending a couple of relaxing days in Pokhara to recharge and rest before heading to the Indian border to cross!
So we got on the bus at 6:30am and headed for Bhairawa, although we decided that we would check out Lumbini, the birthplace of the Buddha. After a 7 hour bus ride we made it to Bhairawa, a dustbowl 4km from the Indian border crossing of Sunauli. There we changed buses, hopped on the roof, and got to Lumbini, a horrid little stretch of road with an ugly fence. Hoping that the spiritual importance of the place would make up for the absolute shittiness of the actual place...we were wrong. However, we did meet some interesting people...the hilarious Oeifa and Jemima from Sydney, first-time travellers with a crude sense of humour shocking enough to make you laugh for week, and John and Wayne, John the English traveller who perhaps tried just a little too hard to be alternative, and had too little of a notion of personal space, and Wayne, the deathly quiet American traveler who spoke so little that it was impossible to say anything against him, although he was a novelty to the locals because of his height!
After a boring and somewhat uneventful two days, we headed to Gorakhpur in India. We crossed the border at Sunauli, and after passing the very lax immigration office in India, we got on the bus, arriving at Gorakhpur after a relatively comfortable if crowded bus service. The city presented itself as a pure Indian stereotype: polluted, overcrowded and without any order whatsoever! We spend the day attempting to breathe, and headed off first thing in the morning (1 hour late, Indian Railways style, of course) for Varanasi by train. The journey took 8 hours in stead of 6 for 232kms...
Arriving in Varanasi, however, was like coming home! I can't explain the feeling that I had, of absolute chaos and sense, of the perplexing ability of this Indian spirit to make the two opposite reconcile in such a natural way. Death and life interact and interchange on a daily basis in this basin of light. The shit lays side by side with the offering, and the line between the sacred and the profane is blurred beyond recognition.
The little streets of the old city, although looking as though they have been hit by an atomic blast, retain a charm and power that is distinctly Indian. The spirit mingles with the keen sense of Indian business, bustling with little shops and thos famous Banarasi Saree shops at every corner. The people greet you, sometimes just to find out where you're from, and sometimes wanting to sell you something. If it's the latter though, they often tell you, although they are at times disappointment by your lack of enthusiasm about coming to their store, they usually offer to help you in any way they can nonetheless. As Jake told me, an old Indian man along the Ganga, with red teeth from chewin the Beetle Leaves, people in India have time, which we lack in the West. People work, and hard, but time is precious, and the social and spiritual are always priorities. India would do well to export this attitude to our alienated Western societies.
There is much, much more to be said of this city, but it's late now, and I need to get to sleep. I have so much to reflect on and take in, and I'll be sure to put it here, next time.
