Rishikesh, India The 'dom' lifted the green bamboo stave, two inches thick and some six feet long, longer than his wiry frame. His stringy muscles flexed under his dark chocolate skin. THWAPPCRACK! The supple green bamboo pole snapped into the burning wood pile. Sparks and embers flew off in all directions. He shoved violently on one end, pushing large blackened log back into the heat of the fire. My eyes darted from top to bottom of the scene, trying to take it all in, despite some itching and watering from the smoke. Standing behind a rail just fifteen feet from the flames, I held up my arm to shield my face from the radiating heat. Trying to discern the unfamiliar smell in the air. Around me, 'untouchables' sat amongst cords of wood piled high into the air next to a oversized scale - similar to the scales of justice... I arrived in Varanasi, India a couple days ago and found a decent room in the Puja Hotel ('puja' also is the act of prayer especially in the Ganges River, just yards from the hotel.) Varanasi, formerly Benares, sits on the river Ganges and means 'eternal city' in Hindi - its the 'Mother Ganges.' Each year, thousands (and I mean THOUSANDS) come to bath in the waters in this holy spot. One dunking supposedly washes away all the sins committed to now. Dying here means instant transport to heaven, do not pass go, do not collect $200! The old city, which abuts the riverfront on the West bank, consists of a warren of narrow passageways and alleys, some just four feet wide. Shopfronts, residences, hotels, and restaurants all mix together in the atmospheric neighborhood. Cows meander the cobbled streets, stopping to munch on organic trash piled in every corner, and then leave viscous evidence of their own passing. |
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Wandering around, I keep my eye focused on the ground, like a monk, lest I slip through some slimey trash or cow patties, which the Indian kids seem to ignore, running around barefoot without a care! Once a cow stood astride the narrow road, I helplessly I stood behind it, till some little kid came along, slapped the cows side, and then it sauntered away. Whew!
Ghats, or steps to the water, line the riverfront, the Dasaswamedh Ghat being one of the most popular for bathing in the Ganges; and every morning, in the rising sun, pilgrims and locals alike drift to the waterfront and decend the stairs into the water. Boatmen beckon passersby to take a ride.
Wandering along the ghats one morning, I stumbled onto a group of pilgrims, from all parts of India and the world, gathered under a tent listening to a guru of some type. I watched and snapped photos for a couple hours. Then they all rose and went to a section of the river screened off by a stage set up in the water. There, they undertook all kinds of ceremony and prostrations and in small groups of family and friends, entered the water.
My eyes followed a group of young women, resplendent in their brilliant saris, as they settled down by the water. Soem clutched ropes set into the slippery steps, worn by countless soles and coated with moss. They dipped their hands and sprinkled the water over themselves, working slowly deeper into the water. Laughs and giggles and splashing as they immersed themselves repeatedly, their wrapped saris clinging to them like the red stripe holds a candy cane.
Fascinated and so moved by the bliss of this group, I unceremoniously set down my camera, stripped down to my shorts (unzipping my high-tech pants!) and slowly walked into the water. The cold grabbed my toes and ankles as I swam in, refreshed from the 85 degree air. I clamped my nose and mouth and eyes and dipped myself fully into Mother Ganges.
The Ganges ranks as one of the most polluted waterways in the world, with raw sewage pouring in from the city of Varanasi. Considered septic (no oxygen left suspended in the water) with astronomical bacteria counts, one can easily get sick from injecting the 'holy' waters. Dead cows often float by along with human cadavers.
continued on the next page.