BACK ON TRACK

Well, if you read my last blog, you might be feeling a bit sorry for my pathetic little self crying in my mango lassi, but alas, all righted itself as it always does and I have spent two fantastic days in Varanasi. I am sad to leave but also at the same time glad that I am leaving it with a bit of sorrow in my heart to leave. That means I have not overstayed my welcome and will always remember it as a magical place where I met some incredible people. Yesterday I spent wandering the streets with a Canadian guy I met at a food stall and just talking about places all over the world. Most of the day was spent at the Ghats, the waterside steps where people wash themselves, their clothes and basically cleans themselves. It is considered a very holy river. In fact, when people die, they wrap their bodies and bring them to a special ghat where they are put on a pyre and burned before their ashes are thrown into the river for re-birth. You can go watch it and it is really an incredible place. Holi, a festival day, started that night and boy did the festivities begin. Of course, it is a male geared festival and all women had to hide themselves or risk being attacked by the drunken men in the streets. It is a color celebration and starting in the afternoon, people begin to throw colored water at each other. As the night wears on, they drink and drink and dance and celebrate their one day when the gods look away. We watched all the men dance and bump and grind against each other until they told us it was best for us (safer) to head back to our hostels. I really did look like something out of the Castro it was all males and there was more bumping and griding and faux sex on the ground than I have ever seen. I didn't get to find out what happened later that night as I was locked safe and sound in the hostel until after noon today. By the time we got out, much of the town had returned to daily activities (but shops were closed) and it was almost as if it had never happened (but for the mess in the streets). A few men ventured out of the hostel and they came back covered in paint with torn clothes. Probably best I wasn't let out.

Today I spent with one of the most beautiful women I have ever met (an Indian/Canadian here to find her roots). She had an incredible, wise soul and we wandered and talked and I cried for my mother and missing her and felt a bit silly but safe and right and good and we talked about life and love and the heart and truth to oneself. It is very much a spiritual place here and if there is one thing that comes more and more to mind for me is how important connections with people are. It is not as if I didn't know this or don't know this but it is really what life comes down to. I see all of these poor people - in Africa and here in India - and they have nothing and yet they still smile and laugh and are together and have that community and family and connection with people that is so disappearing with our high tech society. Anyway, enough of this...here are some general thoughts/impressions of India:

A sunset CAN be like going to a movie! When in Mt Abu, we went to Sunset Point to watch the sunset and on the way up, one could buy popcorn, peanuts and soft drinks. Hundreds of people packed in at the top, many on bench seats set up for the purpose. As the sun dipped down, these hundreds of people clapped and cheered as if it was the closing act at the theater.

The McDonalds Chicken McMaharaja is a tasty treat but still as greasy as the burgers back home. Hot fudge sundays are always the way to go - oh, and the bathrooms can never be beat as they actually have toilet paper.

The world is my garbage can - well at least the Indians think it is. I cringed as I was asked to throw my trash out the train window rather than tuck it under the seat for clean-up later. Guess the train never really gets a good clean-up.

India really does smell like a sewer in most places. Unfortunately, it is a smell I am getting used to.

Rickshaw driver will always try to take you where they want to go and not where you want to go. They will do anything to convince you your choice is wrong from telling you the bus has already left to your hostel has burnt down.

The old women that grab you on the street and as for money are exactly like the old lady in Princess Bride that shouts BOOOO, BOOOO when her husband claims Wesley didn't say "True Love" when asked why he should live.

People selling you things will grab and pull on your arm, tap your leg or foot and follow you for blocks on end whether you acknowledge them or not. I will be quite good at ignoring things when I get home I think.

Prophetic cows really do exist. They even get all dolled up and sometimes have a fifth leg - extra bonus when attempting to collect money for the cow owner. Come to think of it, a number of people I have seen also have extra body parts.

Minimum five cups of Masala Chai are required per day. Not just for its yummy taste but also to keep the chin up and sustain you when things get tough.

Cows, pigs, monkeys, buffalo and humans CAN all live happily together in the city.

The Taj Mahal really is as beautiful as you think it would and is bloody expensive to boot! It was 750 rupees or $16 to get in just to see it.

2 Rupees is the standard up charge for any item being sold to a foreigner. Water, which clearly has the price of 10 rupees market on it, often gets the price of 12 rupees for foreigners. If you drink 10 bottles, you could have bought another two if you paid the extra two rupees each time. Us wiser travelers know this and just hand them a 10.

The sandwiches that I was so tired of in Africa would be good about now to break up the curry and nan bread.

A constantly running nose is pretty much the norm for us travellers as the spice in the food tends to get to you...After a meal, I feel like I was five again running around with my snotty nose - where is my Uncle Dar's pant leg when I need it eh?

Cows can and will sneeze on you and it is not pleasant. I watched a British guy get sneezed on and well, a big green glob landed on his foot and it was NOT nice looking.

Lying to foreigners is the rule, not the exception. I have learned not to trust what anyone says and find that everyone has a different answer - even the tourist information center. You pretty much just have to go with what seems to make the most sense and keep your fingers crossed. I had five different answers for a train departure one time.

No, they don't want to really help you, they just want you to buy a shawl or scarf or something else from their shop.

Mom really was right, porridge is not a bad breakfast after all. I think since I have been here, banana honey porridge and a glass of chai has become my favorite breakfast.

And with that, I will bid you all a good night (it is almost 10pm here) as I must wander off to catch my train to Nepal.