zondag 16 oktober 2011

Kathmandu, 15 oktober

Hey there dear reader,

This is the third attempt to get a new post online, well, not even online, just from thoughts into words basically cuz I am typing this in Word, assuming I’ll put this online next time I’m connected. At the first attempt in the cyberplace downstairs I gave up after half an hour of trying to open my account. At the second attempt there was a power cut. Yeah, patience, if you don’t have plenty of it you just lose your mind here… For those of you who know me a little bit it is obvious that this has been a bit of a challenge for  Tinie Temper. But it’s getting better, I think I don’t get annoyed or angry as easily as before… either way: attempt numero tres. Here it comes.


Last time I posted that I was tired of writing, well that I was basically too lazy to do the recount of the past days and events. So what made me feel like picking up the thread again and get over my lazy self? I simply read someone else’s blog. Someone else’s India blog to be more precise, and it was so much fun to read all that stuff I could relate to so strongly! And I saw how his friends were happy to read about his experiences and adventures, and I kindov felt bad for you guys who are curious about what I am doing out here and left in the cold. Even if there’s just one reader who enjoys this blog, he deserves my full commitment and devotion. And I like writing for chrissake! Am I crazy to deprive myself of this bliss or what!!!!

So back to bizniz my friends. Let’s talk about Varanasi.

The oldest town in India, allegedly in the world, no one even knows how old the place really is. The city between heaven and earth. Whoever is born in it, goes straight to heaven when he dies. As smelly as it is holy, as nasty as it is beautiful, as disgusting as it is magical… the place is breathtaking in more than one way. A labyrinth of narrow alleys, stairs and short tunnels, it is the ultimate exercise in orientation. I got lost every single time I went out. But then again getting lost is probably the best way to get acquainted to a new place. Countless times locals would ask me: ‘Where you going madam?’, and I would answer them ‘Nowhere, just getting lost’ and then I would get that she-must-come-from-Mars-look again. Love that look. Love it.

The labyrinth is crowded with dogs, cows, kids, slick guys asking you where you’re going, shopkeepers, Brahmins, beggars and of course other tourists. Pretty much in that order. There's small temples all over the place. The bigger ones have armed guards around them. Shops with jewelry, chillums, silks, alibaba pants, plastic flowers, and whatever else tourists might wanna buy, are lined up on the main arteries, and the shopkeepers never tire of asking you where you're from, where you're going and if you wanna 'just look, not buy'. Plus you have to watch your step to make sure you don’t put your foot in the nasty mess of one of the many piles of trash that also subtly add to the olfactory flavor. Especially a blast at night, when it's pitch dark in some of the streets. Torches are no luxury after sunset. A lot to take in, to say the least.

Down at the Ganges there’s a series of colorful and more or less buzzing Ghats where the people bathe and do puja, sell flowers, beg and do whatever  else their daily business is. In the evenings there’s a beautiful synchronized puja ritual at the main Ghat (check pics) but the most spectacular sight to us outsiders is probably that of  burning funeral pyres at the Burning Ghat. I could hear the small funeral processions passing by my hotel every ten to twenty minutes, exclamating repeatedly how the soul of the deceased is going back into Brahma. The corpses are carried by six male family members, on a basic bamboo whatever you call these beds you carry dead or wounded people in, and wrapped in red fabric with gold fringes. At the ghat the bodies are put on the burning pyre. The smouldering rests get thrown into the river. And crazily enough the family bathes at the next ghat (downstream from the burning ghat!!!!!) before returning home… Some dead bodies don’t even get burnt first, they just get chucked into the stream to rot: holy men, pregnant women, babies, people who died from a snake bite or from lepra. I was lucky enough to not see any of those in the water.

One morning I got up at four thirty and went down the main Ghat to take a boat ride along the Ghats at sunrise. Plain pure magic. The colors changing, the light flowing in, illuminating the buildings on the river bank, the ghats coming to live with their daily hustle and bustle of bathing and worshipping people… A morning to remember. It was shared with two sweet Spanish, errm sorry Basque ;) girls I had met the day before on the Puja guesthouse rooftop: Martha and Mayalen, great meeting you!!! Sharing good times just makes the good times even better, at least that’s how it is for me (remember that scene in Into the Wild where he writes ‘happiness is only real when shared’, so heartbreakingly true!!).

I digress. Another special moment was the handreading I got from an old sadhu. I offered him a tarot reading in return and he happily accepted. We found a quiet spot behind a small temple near the main ghat and got to it. I impressed him with the Tarot reading, he was very grateful for what I had said. I was relieved :) And then he read my palms and face. This is what he came up with after studying the folds and flaws for minutes: I am a giver, not a taker. Check. Broken by love. Check. I have so much inside but still keep looking for something. Check for the restlessness. I have a big strength in me but my mind is all over the place and keeps me from achieving any determined goal. No focus. Check… reluctantly but nonetheless... He could tell I’m a nurse, a teacher, someone in a caring/sharing position. My colors are red and blue. I happen to be drawn to red and blue, they are my two favourite colors. There’s seven generations of wise people before me at my fathers side. Check as far as my granddad is concerned. I am wiser than my age would assume; someone else said that not even three hours earlier. I am under the negative influence of Saturn, have been under it for about seven years but it’s almost over, maximum another ten to twelve weeks. Therefore Saturdays deserve extra caution. Saturn! Would that be related to JS and his obsession with that same planet?! And then the good news: November 11th is the first day of my Golden Period which will last seven years (yay!) and will bring harmony, peace, love, the whole works. The pieces will fall together, I’ll meet my match before 2014 and there’s even some kids in the stars. I just have to be careful not to trust men too easily. Well, that’s a given! He was like: try ‘em out for six months or so, and then see if it’s worth a go. Six months! By the time I am with someone for six months I’m a goner, no matter how fucked up the guy is. How do you not get attached to someone for six months! He was pretty casual about it, like, maybe not six months, maybe three. Bottom line: don’t get sucked in too easily. Uhuh, makes sense. I can get sucked in after one passionate night, one good kiss, sometimes even after one intense look! Definitely must work on that. Check.

So yeah, a pretty interesting experience alltogether. Charlotte, if you are reading this, please don’t hesitate to post any (critical) comments!!! I appreciate your opinion on these matters you being an astrologist and all.

I’ll try to upload the pics asap, to complete the Varanasi picture. Now it’s time for some sweet sleep, tomorrow I’m meeting a new friend to visit the Kathmandu Monkey temple.

Greets and godspeed!

Tinie xox
First impressions of the Ganges bank

Very efficiently getting rid of the meters of  monsoon mud

Sinking temple


yup, that's the monsoon's doing





Wood for the funeral pyres
















Daily evening Aarti at Main Ghat

Very early in the morning before sunrise

Laundry

Meditating on the Ganges

Day breaks




Strictly forbidden to take pics of the funeral pyres


Here comes the Sun...



Colors coming to live...




And the day begins...


Our boatman, chewing that nasty paan and rowing into other boats every now and then :)

Varanasi!!!



Rikshaw-schoolbus



Me, Mayalen, Marta




Busy main street at night


Crowd at the evening Aarti

And the music is LIVE

Monkey at the window of the restaurant where I'm having lunch


On the billboard of a Varanasi restaurant...

1 opmerking:

  1. I skipped the visit to Varanasi during my trip through Radjastan because we planned it after landing in Dehli, took an immediat taxi-drive to Agra and had the great culture shock in Agra (I was warned not to start there, but hey I'm stubborn, yes) so in high need for quietness we went off to Rantambore instead of Varanasi... many regrets, but a reason to go back once!

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