Long Overdue

Avid readers and fans, I apologize for my prolonged absence from the hallowed pages of Blogger. I really can attribute it to nothing other than my own laziness and preoccupation with various activities (some of which should take precedence over blogging and some of which are just a waste of time, like Facebook). But after an extended break, during which my dearest mata ji (mother in Hindi) called me out for not blogging for a long time, I'm back in action and ready to write more than any human could possibly want to read about the last week and a half or so in India! I'm even going to use subheads.

Varanasi Boat Ride

On our last day in Varanasi, we were treated to a lovely and fascinating boat ride along the Ganga Ji (Ganges River). Varanasi, often called the oldest living city in the world, is situated on the banks of the Ganga Ji and in Hinduism, the cycle of reincarnation is broken and salvation (or whatever it's called in Hinduism, unfortunately I don't know as much as I should) is achieved if a person is placed in the river after death. We rose early to get to the river before sunrise, but Varanasi was already abuzz with life. It was a hazy morning, and people were generally moving in the direction of the river. Women were performing pujas (prayers) in circles, washing clothing, and bathing in the murky water of the Ganga while street vendors started setting up and beggars began their daily routine. We walked to the river's edge and boarded what was basically a very large row boat, operated by two Indian men.

It was a really cool experience to be slowly moving up the river as the city began to wake up. If you ever see pictures of India with women in saris standing on crowded steps descending into a river and entering the water and washing things, those are pictures most likely taken in Varanasi. I asked Goutam Ji whether people continue to bathe in the Ganga by choice or whether they lack running water at home, and he said it's a choice based on many years of tradition and spirituality. As we moved down the river, we saw scores of other boats filled with tourists, including some with tripods set up in their row boats and hoards of Southeast Asian tourists in masks to filter the dirty air. It was probably the most tourists we'd seen anywhere.

Along the shore of the river were the women I already talked about, as well as men bathing, people meditating, tourists taking pictures, and people selling things. We also passed several crematoriums on the edge of the river, which consisted of high pyres built to burn bodies on. It was an interesting sight but it felt a little too intimate to be looking at that part of someone's funereal process. The sun came up through haze while we putzed along the river, and across the way we could see a few long figures walking along a sandbar. It was all very meditative and beautiful, and it was probably my favorite part of our time in Varanasi. The water itself was gray and dirtier than in Rishikesh, and at one point we saw the body of a dead cow float by. We've heard stories of people bathing in the Ganges and surfacing next to a dead body, which is morbid and sad. I dipped my hand in but we definitely avoided bathing or swimming in the Ganga Ji.

Shopping & Train

After the boat ride, some of us decided to go back to the main, bustling market area of Varanasi. We wanted to further explore the little alleyways that criss-cross the area and make some purchases. I ended up buying a child's langa for Mariyah, my little sister for Big Brother Big Sister. It's pink and blue and has a lot of beads on it, so hopefully she'll think it's fun. I also bought some pillowcases that I may take to Leavenworth (where my family has a cabin, for those of you who are really behind on my life) or put in my room. It's a lot easier for me to make purchases that I claim (in my head at least) are for other people. I buy a lot of things that I plan to give to my parents, knowing full well that having them in my house at home means they're sort of mine too. Anyway, I also bought a pair of pants for someone but I haven't decided who yet.

We had to catch the train that evening around 7:15, and Goutam Ji made us leave the hotel at 5:30 to take autos the six kilometers to the station. That seemed like more time than we could possibly need, but the Varanasi roads were tangled and busy and crowded, so we got there at the perfect time. The train itself was ok (another sleeper train — I'm becoming a pro at sleeping in their questionably clean and comfortable berths) and I watched another movie on my computer. Side note: I have about 100 movies on my computer from Mojo (an application that lets me get movies from other people's computers easily), and it's been a godsend in India. We can't really be out at night, which means we have a lot of time just hanging out at our home stay and things like that. Being able to watch movies is nice, and I've recently given a lot of them to other people here. Anyway, I watched a movie and went to sleep, and when I woke up, I found out we were a little delayed so we could rest longer. Our "little delay" became an approximately six-hour delay, so Rachael and I were not in the best of spirits upon arriving home. We had to rally energy, though, because that day (Sunday) was Rachael's birthday and we, being the other students and I, had planned a surprise party that night!

Party Time Hurray!!!

A while ago, some of us had discussed doing something for Rachael and Poonam's birthday on Oct. 23, and Nina agreed to take the lead on organizing a party. She has a Greek restaurant in mind (which is confusing in India...) but we all agreed to let her do her thing and we would all chip in to pay for it. Nina planned everything but we decided not to tell Poonam and Rachael, so on Sunday after our long train delay, I told Rachael that nothing really had been planned but we could go out to dinner with a few people if we wanted.

I had to write down the directions and read them haltingly to the auto driver, but we eventually found the the Greek restaurant, checked our name off the list, and we headed upstairs. Nina had reserved the entire top floor of the restaurant. Dinner was provided, and it was entirely delicious. We also had two bottles of champagne and a DJ, which of course prompted loads of dancing. It was all fantastically fun! We got to relax like we were back in Amreeca (how they pronounce America here) and be ourselves in a place where there was no one else to stare at or judge us. Rachael was turning 21 so people made sure to buy her plenty of drinks, and it was generally a wonderful time with friends! It was definitely a night on the pricier end of those we've spent in Delhi, but it's nothing compared to what it would be like to study abroad in Europe.

Diwali

Last week was Diwali, which is one of the largest festivals in Hinduism. This is saying something, since it seems like every other day is some sort of holiday. Diwali has something to do with the conquering of evil/darkness, and I believe it's related to the story of Rama's return home in the Ramayana (synopsis: Sita is the wife of Rama and is kidnapped while they are exiled in the forest by an evil guy from Lanka — which I later found out is the same as modern day Sri Lanka — and the monkey god Hanuman helps save Sita so she can return to Ayodhya).

While every other person in all of India seems to have had the day, if not the week, off, we had school like normal. Since my host parents are Muslim and don't celebrate Diwali, we were invited to come back to the center later that night to celebrate with our teachers. In India, a lot of people celebrate holidays of other people's religions with friends who are of a religion that celebrates a certain holiday (i.e. Muslims will celebrate Diwali with Hindus and Hindus will celebrate Christmas with their Christian friends), which seems like a lovely and interesting way to do things, but alas, our host parents don't do things quite like that.

We arrived at the center at 6:30 and waited around for a bit, because apparently someone had proclaimed that the ideal puja (prayer service) time was 7 p.m. We began the puja with Goutam Ji, Archna Ji, Bhavna Ji, Abid Ji and his wife and son, Azim Ji and his daughter, Kishore Ji, and our really awesome kitchen staff. Goutam Ji performed the rituals at a little altar they had set up, and Archna Ji and Kishore Ji sang out of a book. We then lit diyas, which are little candles in small clay bowls, and Archna Ji gave us the red string around our wrist the is a symbol of protection (I can't remember the name). We put the diyas outside and then headed out to light off some small fireworks.

We started with sparklers, which are relatively harmless but still so pretty and fun to wave around. I was a little nervous when they were give the sparklers to four-year-old Irene and 14-month-old Raman, but I think they were very supervised/not actually holding them themselves. We then moved onto fountains and a little spinny thing that was really scary because it started spinning the second you lit it, so you were still crouched next to it. It was nothing that I haven't done before, but it was really fun because it was something different and our teachers have kind of become our family here, so being with them was nice. It was also cool because EVERYONE in the neighborhood was setting off fireworks, so we could see and hear them going off all around us in the streets and in the sky.

We ate a yummy dinner (complete with gulab jamun) and Rachael and I got a ride home from Azim Ji's driver. Our host father isn't a big Diwali fan because of all the air pollution from the fireworks, but even he was impressed by the fireworks in our neighborhood when we got home. Rachael and I went for a walk through the DDA flats (Pocket A, though, because our pocket, B, wasn't partying quite as hard) to see the fireworks. As we came around a corner, we heard a huge blast and Rachael shrieked and literally dragged me behind a car a la some kind of scene in a war movie. These were some of the biggest non-commercial fireworks I've seen, and that's a feat considering my mom's cousin Ted usually buys those really expensive packs of fireworks from an Indian reservation every Fourth of July.

After settling down a little and realizing that we weren't actually in imminent danger of being bombed, we enjoyed the impressive display of some young men setting fireworks off in the street, as well as a little girl and her uncle lighting fountains next to us. The girls mother came out after a few minutes and began talking to us and invited us into her house for sweets. I realize this was breaking the number one rule of being a child (don't take candy from strangers and definitely don't follow them into their houses), but Rachael and I felt comfortable going with her. She was very nice and we talked to her and her mother from Punjab who had just had a hysterectomy (which we heard within a minute of meeting her) while we ate some delicious Diwali sweets. After a few minutes, we awkwardly parted and Rachael and I returned to the streets to see more firecrackers than I've seen in my life to this point being blown up consecutively. It honestly sounded like a machine gun assault. After that, the exciting fireworks people left and most of what was around were just really loud things, so we left Pocket A, walked around a bit more, and returned home.

Ok, I'm getting tired now (I ALWAYS, without fail, go to bed after Rachael) but I will write more tomorrow, promise! Next up on the catching-up-on-blogging agenda: the wedding, shopping, TMI health issues (but actually), my independent study project, finals, the American Embassy School cafe, Dartmouth stuff, the other wedding, and probably more that I forget! Thanks for reading all this if you made it to this point!