Out with our guide at 6 am to watch the sunrise on the Ganges. We hop into a boat and are rowed upstream past many ghats, including the two major crematoriums, one for poorer folks that handles 40-50 bodies a day, and the other, larger one that handles 100-200 per day. There are stacks of wood arranged into formations that easily become a funeral pyre for a body.
It’s pretty early in the morning, but we do float past and are able to see one funeral pyre with the head and feet sticking out.
I think it’s so healthy that this is part of their lives, instead of something avoided until absolutely necessary. Only the male family members accompany the body for this ceremony because it is believed that the spirit stays around the body for 11 days, and since women are more prone to cry, if they cried while the body was being cremated, the spirit would not want to leave and go on its journey.
Early morning bathers line the shore,
offering their blessing to the Ganges and the sun, which comes up over the horizon as a great, orange ball of fire.
We also see the occasional laundry service, hard at work. Evidently, they do not use soap, but a special kind of sand, to get all the whites so clean:
And the usual strange ducks:
Matthew and I each have a small tin filled with marigolds and a small ghee candle and we each light our candle, offer blessings and prayers, and set our offering to float our on the river.
We have seen huge groups of pilgrims walking through the city, with their belongings in bags balanced on their heads. This morning, we were treated to a boat chock full of women pilgrims who are laughing, singing, clapping and waving. They are so happy to be floating on their holy river:
We disembark in the old city (here’s what it looks like in the daytime – the same area where we viewed the monks’ ceremony night before last):
and walk through the tiny alleyways to view part of the gold palace, a Hindu temple, which was built alongside a mosque. Security is tight, as they want to prevent any terrorists from blowing up one or the other as a political statement about the two religions sharing the city (of the 3 million inhabitants, 70% are Hindu, 25% Muslim and the rest…whatever). I sit and chat with a gentleman about essential oils and aromatherapy (Varanasi is known for its silk brocade and essential oils), but have to head out before business is conducted so we can get back to the hotel for morning yoga.
Matt and I head to the rooftop and join two other guests for what is called yoga, but I’d call stretching and breathing exercises. Some of the latter were very interesting, but I still think that this dude is a real amateur. I then shower and head down with our driver to do a little souvenir shopping and to visit the aromatherapy man’s studio, where I select 4 different oils (was going with 3 until he asked “do you have problems sleeping? I asked what made him ask that and he said I looked tired). Followed the driver out through the small streets that are more like alleys; they are crowded and filled with people, making progress slow, but interesting. Of course, it’s always possible you may run into a different kind of obstacle at any time:
and headed back to the hotel, where I met Matt and a gentleman recommended by the hotel for Ayurvedic massages. We walked with him through alleyways to his “simple” studio. I guess that that’s one way to put it. A room with a massage table covered in a mostly clean towel. I was wary of undressing, but stripped down to bra and panties. He poured oil over me, held out his hands to use his energy and asked me to visualize the white light pouring out of my head chakra. Etc, etc. now, you all know that I am open to all kinds of alternative ideas and treatments, but this was, well, just amateur and ill-equipped.
I warned Matt he’d be oily when done and the massage was only okay, as I passed him on my way out of the “salon” and back to the hotel. Our driver escorted me back to the old part of town so I could try out a 2-hour yoga class at a place I read about in Lonely Planet. Headed upstairs of an old building to join four others for class with a happy Indian man. I won’t go through all the details, but this was probably the best yoga class I’ve ever had. More unusual breathing exercises, stretching, holding new postures for a long time, having him explain which organs or part of the body were benefitted by each posture, laughing yoga and the 30 minute visualization during shivasana (is that one long enough for you, Nikki?)
Class over, I head down one flight to the office area, and there are Matt and our driver having a nice cuppa chai. Luckily, they bring me one also, because we agree it’s the best we’ve had yet. Out into the street and down to the riverfront to watch a bit of the Ganges blessing ceremony again (from our first night) and pass a few interesting looking characters:
He’s selling a particular type of stick, but no idea what it’s used for:
She’s selling flower garlands to offer to the Ganges:
We watch from shore this time, then slowly make our way over to the Dolphin restaurant, which is on the rooftop of a hotel and about 6 flights up. We have a yummy dinner (except the substandard naan) and head back to the hotel to pretty much pass out from our food comas.