After three weeks in Nepal I found myself heading to the border town of Sonauli, India ready for the final stretch of my journey. As I entered India along the dusty road separating the two countries, I couldn't find the customs office anywhere. Odd seeing as how it is the most commonly used crossing in Nepal, due to its proximity to Kathmandu. Eventually I found a small dilapidated building I had walked by several times with a tiny sign in the window “India Customs and Immigration.” All my paperwork checked out in the tiny dusty office and my visa cleared; so far so good.
The first experience I had in India was at a train station in the Northern city of Gorukphur. Enormous lineups (with a separate one for women) were all pushing and shoving one another to the front trying to buy seats for the next available train. Strolling up and down the chaotic frenzy of travelers were Indian Police, armed with their long blunt sticks used to control anyone who got out of line. The officer in the women's lineup was also adequately armed. After 30 minutes in one line I hurled myself to the front only to find out it was the wrong queue. Across the waiting hall I stood in another lineup for 30 minutes.
“No A/C car! You sit in coach!”
The lady behind the counter yelled at me as I inquired about the possibility for a cool cabin. It cost me 70 Rp (1.50 USD) for an eight hour train ride. Visions of being packed in these stuffy old cars with fans that barely spun in the 40 degree heat stirred me into a most unsettled state. As the train pulled up I walked up and down the different cars until I found a ticket officer who confirmed there was room on one of the A/C cars and told me which seat number to take. As I settled in the air-conditioned oasis I felt some relief knowing my first train ride in India thankfully wouldn't also be the longest. The officer found me a while later into my journey, upgraded my ticket to A/C and added a generous convenience charge for himself.
“Welcome to India” he said with a smile.
My first destination was the holy city of Varansi, located alongside the Ganges. It is a large, busy, noisy, and fantastic place to start my adventures through India. The old part of the city has narrow streets and alleys occupied with every vendor and salesman you could imagine. There are markets stretching across every section of road, with constant honking and screeching sounds filling each minute of the day. The smells range from aromatic sweets and snacks being prepared, to the stale stench of urine coating every dark corner and back alley you pass. It truly is an assault on the senses, for better or worse. As you walk across the busy congested streets you pass into pedestrian only sections of town that line the Ganges. These areas make up the West bank of the river where the bathing Ghats are, and further upstream, the burning Ghats. I managed to take in both from a small boat at 6 am in the morning. The bathing Ghats are busy and crowded, whereas the burning Ghats used for cremations busy themselves amassing enormous quantities of wood for the day’s scheduled processions. People bathing in the Ganges rinse, wash, and even drink the holy water to purify themselves for the day. I resisted such offers to join in mostly because of the dense concentration of heavy metals they've discovered in the river. Those learning to swim splash around in rubber tubes or have empty plastic bottles tied around their waists to help keep them afloat. It was a very entertaining experience and a good introduction into life in India.
The temperatures soared in Varanasi during the day, and most people refrained from doing anything really between 11 am and 3 pm. My fourth-story concrete room held retained the heat like a thermos and temperatures inside stayed between 36-40 degrees Celsius through the night (depending on whether the fan was working or not due to frequent power outages). On the advice on my guesthouse manager I drug my mattress to the rooftop terrace and slept there for my time in Varanasi.
The following day I ventured to Sarnath, the spot of Gautama Buddha’s first sermon. A small temple is erected nearby the ruins of where the Buddhist following originated. A large area of ruins including a stupa and pillar erected by Ashoka (similar to the found in Lumbini; the Buddha’s alleged birthplace) mark the location. A large Bodhi tree, supposedly grafted from the original one Buddha obtained enlightenment under, is also planted nearby. It was a nice day trip out of the city, but once again, the temperatures stayed well above 40 degrees for a majority of the day.
During the evenings in Varanasi there are elaborate Hindu ceremonies going on by the bathing Ghats that gather enormous crowds of followers and tourists alike. The young men performing the rituals are familiar enough with it they could do the routine in their sleep (and some in fact look like they’re falling asleep in the process). As bells chime and drums beat, the ceremony lasts about an hour as people hymn, hum, and pray consistently throughout the presentation. Hundreds gather on boats as well to catch a glimpse of the procession from a better angle. I partook in the experience purchasing a small Hindu necklace containing Shiva’s tears, blessed with holy water (from the Ganges) which I discreetly shook off before adorning. The city of Varanasi is a fantastic experience, as raw as it is enticing.
After Varanasi I took the train to Agra to take in the Taj Mahal like so many other tourists. On the train ride there I noticed many beggars asking for money, all of which were shooed away and denied any handouts by the train passengers. Then one lady, quite outspoken and loud, strutted up and down the aisle of the car demanding money from everyone (except me oddly). A man next to me handed her 5 rupees, she tossed them back at him and asked for more. He took out a ten and gave it to her quickly. I was so confused. I asked the man next to me why everyone handed out this one beggar money and yet no one else. In broken English he explained she was a transsexual with “both parts” and that they believed they deserve to be given money for how Indian society looks down on them. I asked what happens if people don't give them money and he replied,
"She will rub her genitals up against you, which is very bad luck."
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I whipped ten rupees out of my pocket faster than any gunslinger, but she had already left, off to harass the passengers in the next rail car. Apparently most tourists are immune to this kind of treatment, but I did not want to find out if that's entirely true.
Once in Agra, the city is very easy to navigate and kept clean (minus the outskirts) by the enormous amounts of tourist dollars it receives each year. Arriving in the morning I initially made my way to the nearby Agra Fort, with it's impressive walls and inner palace. It's a busy and crowded place, but the views of the Taj Mahal from atop the fortress warrant a visit. From there it was off to Itimad Ud Daulah, or simply "The Baby Taj" as the rickshaw drivers will call it. This is the original tomb built by the Tah Mahal's architect and it is equally impressive if not for it's slightly smaller size. The grounds are quiet and neat, with few visitors, and the intricate designs and carvings make it a beautiful spot to visit in the midday heat. I really enjoyed it's charm and also would highly recommend a visit to see this "original" design.
Finally, after the other two destinations of the day I made it to the Taj Mahal for an early sunset. The colors at dusk don't affect the marble as much as dawn, but the backdrop it provides is spectacular. It is the most visited site in India, and this gorgeous structure certainly deserves that title. The adjacent Mosques (one genuine, one a fake for symmetry since it doesn't face Mecca) are also equally impressive. A congested row of people shuffle and push their way through into the main hall, make a lap of the tomb, and exit out the same way they came the whole day through. By dusk the sky lit up with beautiful orange, pink, and yellow as the grounds slowly emptied. Sunrise the next day wasn't as impressive, since the dense pollution and dust prevent the early morning rays from affecting the color of the marble dome as much. Apparently, the cooler months make for better viewing. Regardless, it is still a nice site to see from any rooftop restaurant lining the main strip.
After a visiting the Taj Mahal I took a bus to the nearby city of Fatehpur Sikri. The enormous fort and palace built there was designed to replace the Agra Fort, but was shortly abandoned following it's construction due to unsuitable water supply and a somewhat cumbersome location. The enormous entrance to Jama Masjid is one of the tallest in India. The surrounding courtyard has several royal chambers and tombs dotting the perimeter as well. Inside the main palace (separated into male and female sections) are courtyards, assembly halls, and stages for everyone from astrologers to holy men. It is an enormous and beautifully constructed facility perched on a ridge overlooking the crowded city below. Everything pillar from dining halls to stables are
The heatwave crippling most of India was stifling my plans a bit. Originally, I had hoped to carry on to Rajasthan from Agra, but the heat was unbearable up until now. I had been sleeping 3-4 hours a night waking up in pools of sweat from the frequent power breaks killing my overhead fan. Since my time in Southern Nepal the heat was unbearable at times and I made a decision to change my itinerary. I had found a reasonably priced flight to Leh, Ladakh in the most Northern province of India nestled in between China and Kashmir, Temperatures there rarely exceeded the mid-twenties during the day, and at nigh it dropped to just below 10 degrees Celsius. What a welcomed change that would be. So I booked the next flight to Leh from New Delhi, hopped on the train and arrived at the airport by midnight to catch my morning flight. I was excited to see an entirely new corner of India I hadn't expected to see. Rajasthan will have to wait, but I know I'll be back.
