Long bus drive to Lucknow. More crowding, honking and temples/mosques.
Twenty-one of our fellow travelers took our bus back to New Delhi. The remaining 13 of us got on a different bus with a different driver and drove to Lucknow and Varanasi before we headed back to New Delhi.
Our original driver was MAGIC with making U-turns in the middle of the road. We were so big, it would stop all lanes of traffic going both ways. But he always did a great job.
We had WIFI in the bus — which made the long drives SO much nicer.
Had a huge laugh at the shower cap provided in the Lucknow Hotel.
Anti-brain wash kit??
Visit to the Asfi Mosque called the Bara Imambara, Rumi Darwaza and tombs of Sa’adat Ali Khan.
Bara means big and Imambara is a shrine built by Shia Muslims.
Frankly, the whole ‘take off your shoes thing’ was a pain in the ass.
Too funny. I call myself Madame Babushka!
Group photo. The blue construction barrier became a pretty backdrop for the picture.
We all were avoiding dirt by wearing closed-in shoes. Our tour director, a native, often wore sandals.
We weren’t allowed to take photos inside this mosque until the guide said you can take one picture.
Do you see how it would be difficult to explain this room. A picture is worth a 1,000 words.
Take a close look at the photo on the left. As we were walking toward the bus, I stopped to take this picture. Once boarded, my travel mates asked why I would ever stop to take this picture. I looked at them like they were crazy and said “How ELSE will my readers get an idea of the filth in India?”
The streets were dirty and full of trash, the sink was dirty, the blue water container was dirty, the stove was dirty, and someone was SITTING on the counter. You wouldn’t believe it until you saw it.
By this time my eating was just a pure fight against spice.
There are two levels of spicy food in India. Indian spice and the level of spice they give Americans. The people in my group who liked spice thought the spice level was fine. They didn’t know it was tempered downward for foreigners. Ashna grew up on Indian spice and would ask the servers for Indian Spice and she got it.
I, on the other hand, was super cautious. The servers were not to be trusted with what they thought was spicy. By this point, I was eating a lot of bread and white rice. The desserts were very good however and this time they served two of them.
Here’s a menu. They have 16 icons to show differing types of food and none of them indicate SPICY.
Here’s a screenshot of my phone, searching for available WIFI Networks. I knew I was in India when I saw Sauragh and Vishwakarma as family last names!
This was the mayor or leader of the city. Their new jingle is something about in India all rising together.
Political ads … you just can’t get away from them.
Arriving in Varanasi, a city built on the banks of the sacred River Ganges.
There she is!! Happy as a clam after ordering this spicy dish she is very familiar with. Note the bowl of red sauce!
Family on a scooter. You can’t NOT see Coca-cola everywhere. Can this REALLY be pink and white cotton candy?? I don’t think I’d eat it!
Someone fed the cow, trying to get karma points in order to get to Heaven.
Arrived in Varanasi and we took several cabs down to the river, since there were so many cars, scooters, and people it would be IMPOSSIBLE for a bus to get through. The interior of the care REEKED of tobacco. You don’t run across that in the U.S. any more.
When we got closer to the river, we all got out and started walking. It was so loud and crowded, I was afraid to pull out my phone for photos while I was walking.
I believe it was at this point our group realized we had lost Yi (pronounced Eee). Getting lost is my worst nightmare! I had Sameer’s phone number, but no service. I think I would have just started to cry. Well, Yi found a very handsome Indian middle-aged man and asked him to call Sameer on his phone. Sameer answered and we eventually found Yi.
Right after losing Yi, we gathered at the riverbank.
The plastic bottles are for sale to people who want to bring some of the sacred Ganges River water back home.
Click on the video.
Can you pick out the American tourists?? The white smears on Sameer’s forehead is a blessing from a religious man.
Here is the Ganges River where we would be part of a blessings ceremony. There were seven holy men under each of those rounded arches and they do a ceremony four times a day, every day!
We met Sameer’s mom, her friend and her niece in the streets (how the hell did that happen, even if he planned it?) and we all got on a wooden boat that would hold about 50 people.
Sameer’s mom.
Here’s their beach. Well, well worn clay-like sand, and yes, that’s sewerage flowing down to the river. That’s why I was wearing tennis shoes; not sandals.
We are sitting in the boat we took into the river.
This was our captain! He pulled that wire attached to the gas pedal of the motor in the box, and he steered with his other hand on the rudder. Simple; but it worked.
Click it.
This was a blessing ceremony of fresh flowers and a candle in each little tray that we let go onto the water in memory of our departed loved ones.
This is a crematorium in Varanasi.
We were not allowed to take photos closer than this. When we were closer to shore, at one point there were 3 bodies prepared and lined up awaiting for a spot to be torched.
It is the ultimate place for a Hindu to be laid to rest. As in Nepal, as soon as someone dies, they transport the body to this place on the River Ganges, prepare the body in oils, herbs and spices and wrap it in bright orange/red cloth. There is no smell of a dead body whatsoever due to the oils, etc. The bodies are transported from the beach on simple bamboo pallets, carried by family members to the edge, or into, the river where they splash the sacred waters of the Ganges on them. If there are no pyres available, the bodies are placed in a line on the sand awaiting their turn to be cremated.
Cremation consists of putting the body on a bed of wood, grass and straw, and then building a tepee of boards over the body. You can see the building in the back is full of wood, as are the piles of wood all along the beach.
For the death of a father, the eldest son lights the fire; for a mother, the youngest son lights it. Women are usually not allowed to partake because the soul leaves the body and should move on. If a woman is sad and crying, the soul cannot move on and it stays to comfort the crier, thereby screwing up the circle of life.
There is no crying or sadness as the surviving family awaits the four hours of burning before only ashes are left.
A specialist is hired to take over after the first lighting to make sure the fire doesn’t go out. (Wouldn’t that be creepy.)
After sufficient time, the ashes are gathered and given to the family. Most often, they throw them into the River Ganges.
I understand this is a religious ceremony and that’s the way it’s been done for centuries, but I have a problem with the air quality in India — the worst in the world. Not only are you breathing in smoke from the wood, but skin cells, hair and bone dust. EEW!
Also bodies are put into the Ganges 24/7, day in and day out. Eventually, won’t it get too polluted?
Here are the floating flowers and candle that we set out on the river. It was magical to see darkness fall while on the river.
We were in a boat like this one. Once it was totally dark, boats pulled up to the beach and the docks. More boats pulled up to those boats, and the boats would get their pointy prow wedged into any space available so that you could walk from boat to boat as if you were on land.
We pulled away after the ceremony while one of our travel mates was on another boat. There was some swift movements to get her back.
The seven holy men performed under these seven lights. They had a jumbo-tron to show what they were doing.
There were thousands of people there.
We got off the boat and headed up the stairs to catch cabs home. Because we were on the water so long, Tom REALLY had go to the bathroom. Badly. So Sameer had a local deaf kid take Tom to a bathroom. But that’s when we lost him. As we were headed home through the streets, we found the deaf kid and he didn’t have Tom. I don’t know how they do it, but he went back and found him. And all was well. The deaf kid and his friend followed us all to the way down those crowded streets to where we caught the cabs in order to be sure we were safe. We didn’t really need their help, but I tipped them just the same.
We all came right back to the exact spot before sunrise the next day. When we got to the river, we looked and watched the perfectly timed sunrise. There’s SO MUCH you miss when you sleep past dawn!
Last blog coming soon before I head to Houston and Galveston!
Linda Jeanne