A Visit to India, Part II
Our two month adventure at Dhamtari Christian Hospital in rural, central India, was dissected by a weekend long trek to India's most holy city, Varanasi. For someone raised on a dairy farm in tiny Sugarcreek, Ohio, Larry certainly pulled some great ideas out of his hat; this visit to the holy city of Varanasi in northeast India, with the Ganges River coursing through its veins, being one of his finest.
We took an overnight train to get there, splurging on first class tickets. This business man shared our cabin. Like transformers, the seats all reconfigured into sleeping cots. We awoke the next morning, well rested, in Varanasi. This city is the ultimate destination of Hindus, in life and in death. Along the banks of the Ganges River there are over one hundred ghats, steps leading down into the water. Pilgrims come for sin-cleansing dips down the steps of the ghats, into the murky, bacteria riddled, waters. According to Hindu tradition, if you die and have your body cremated on the famous Ghats, and your ashes are spread over the Ganges, you will avoid the pesky process of reincarnation and go straight to heaven. All I remember of our first day is that our hotel had a large shower with an endless supply of hot water. When you've bathed from a bucket for a month, standing under hot running water feels like you have died and gone to heaven. Larry and I stood in that hotel shower for an hour before we felt human again.
Imagine being on a boat at dawn on the Ganges River, observing the pilgrims perform various life rituals on the ghats. We made arrangements the night before so that we would have front row seats.
4am. Waiting at a chai stand to meet our guide. Whose idea was this?!
Rowing on the Ganges.
Early morning bathers on a ghat.
A marriage ceremony being performed. At the next ghat there was a baby baptism.
Family members rowing a loved one's dead body to a cremation ghat. It was the circle of life.
The river was also the local laundromat.
Laying the "clean laundry" out to dry.
Varanasi is famous all over India for beautiful woven, silk saris. Many are made it small, multi-generational shops. Visiting one was a highlight for this young, Mennonite seamstress.
I purchased some yards of blue-grey, raw silk, not knowing what clothing I would turn it into. A decade and three kids later, the fabric "spoke" to me. I sewed matching outfits for my children, linking our present family to our adventure in a land half a world away.
We rode back to Dhamtari on an all day train. We purchased cheap tickets and traveled like the ordinary folks did: crammed and jostled together on bench seats. When the toddlers standing on the floor peed, we all lifted our feet in unison so the liquid could roll to the edge of the car.
One month later, we bade farewell to our new friends in Dhamtari, and embarked on our twenty-one day salute, "Travel India." Over the Christmas holidays, Didi, a visiting relative of our hosts, the Martins, helped Larry and I purchase a special Indian Airlines ticket: for three weeks, we could utilize as many intra-country flights as we desired. We mapped out an ambitious agenda of ten cities or areas, from Dehli, in the central north, down to Trivandrum, a gorgeous beach town at the southern tip, and planned for several days at each place.
We flew to Dehli first, where Didi and his wife lived. They graciously put us up for the night and helped us solidify our travel plans. It amazes me that we were able to plan so well without the use of the internet or cell phones. I honestly don't know how we would get by today without those modern conveniences. When we travel now, we rely heavily on the internet. Our copy of INDIA a travel survival kit, 1984 edition, from the lonely planet series, became our ever present companion and guide. Upon arriving in a city, we'd use the recommendations found in that bible for hotel, restaurants, and sights to see. More important to these poor students, places were listed price wise as Top End or Bottom End. Mostly we hung out near the bottom; we often were able to keep our daily lodging and food expenses to under $10.
Of course we journeyed to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. This most famous Moghul monument was constructed in the seventeenth century by Emperor Shah Jahan, as a white marble tomb for his beloved wife, Mumtaz Mahal. After 17 years of marriage and 14 children, she died in 1629 in childbirth. Heartbroken, the Emperor recruited workers from the Middle East, Central Asia and even Europe, to construct this lasting testament of his love. The jewel of a tomb took 21 years to complete.
We spent half a day at the Taj Mahal, soaking in its beauty from every angle.
"You know Shah Jahan, life and youth, wealth and glory, they all drift away in the current of time. You strove therefore, to perpetuate only the sorrow of your heart? Let the splendor of diamond, pearl and ruby vanish? Only let this one teardrop, this Taj Mahal, glisten spotlessly bright on the cheek of time, forever and ever." -- Rabindra Nath Tagore
The inside of the memorial was filled with intricate carvings in the marble. Many of the flowers were originally precious stones, but have since been gouged out.
Local stories say that the Emperor had planned a second Taj, in black marble, across the Yamuna River from the white Taj, to be his own mausoleum. The plans never came to fruition as he was overthrown by his son, and imprisoned at Fort Agra. We took this photo from the Fort prison, looking out on Shah Jahan's view during his final days.
Our next flight took us to the exotic, colorful state of Rajasthan in the northwest, bordering Pakistan. This area was the ancient home to the Rajputs, a group of warrior clans who controlled this part of India for a thousand years, similar to the mediaeval European knights.
Jaipur is known as the "pink city", as many of the buildings in its old walled city were made from pink-colored sandstone. This photo shows the City Palace.
Near Jaipur, we visited the Monkey Temple, a place overrun for many years by a tribe of monkeys who are permitted to live and thrive there. They were mean little critters, wanting to snatch your glasses or bags.
We hiked up to the Meherangarh Fort for this wonderful vista overlooking the "blue city" of Jodhpur. Many houses are painted blue because that color helps to keep the homes cool on the inside from the scorching sun.
At this point in our travels, I must tell you the story of meeting the Minister of Forestry for the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. We met this friendly business man two months earlier on our first flight into Calcutta. We had already been gone from home for three days and were missing familiar food. Indian Airlines had the nerve to serve rice and curry for the in-flight lunch (imagine that!). The reserved, kind gentleman sitting next to us noticed our lack of gustatory enthusiasm and struck up a conversation. We discovered that he was a government employee, in charge of forestry for the state of UP. He had a wife and two teenage kids; he showed such unselfish interest in our plans and was happy for us to experience his country. He wished us well as we parted ways at the airport.
Eight weeks later we were in Rajasthan, on a flight from Jaipur to Jodhpur, and guess who we were sitting next to?! It was the same Minister of Forestry of UP! After all these years, sadly, I cannot remember his name. He recognized us and we remembered him and we struck up conversation. He was by himself, on his way to the countryside in Jodhpur for a few days of relaxation. He was staying in a house accessible to him because of his government position. Would we like to come be his guests while we were in the area, and use his house as "home base?" If my adults kids found themselves in a similar situation, I'm not sure what I would advise them to do. I know what Larry and I did; we accepted the kindness of a stranger and had some grand adventures as a result. Did I mention that the lodging was free? :)
Having proper tea in the back yard with our new friend.
The rural countryside of this area is the natural habitat for the rare blackbuck, a medium sized deer with two, curled, unicorn-like antlers growing on its head. It is quite a beautiful creature. Our friend arranged for the three of us to drive in his chauffeured, old fashioned, luxury car, resplendent with curtain panels at the window, to a private lodge for viewing the blackbuck.
This was the place they brought Princess Diana to visit when she was in Jodhpur. Assuming that American kids would want beer, he had the driver stop along the way for picnic food and beer. At that point in our lives, we did not like the taste of beer, but sitting in that exclusive lodge, we managed to choke down that warm liquid like it was our favorite beverage. He wanted to know all about getting his son into college in the states, and in turn, he elaborated on the significant problem of deforestation in India. It was a marvelous afternoon!
Not the greatest photo, but we did see a blackbuck.
After a restful night in his luxurious house, the Minister of Forestry of UP arranged for Larry and I to take a 6 hour train ride to Jaisalmer, a small town on the edge of the desert, very near Pakistan. Early the next morning, we met, per the Minister's arrangement, two guides with two camels for a private camel safari tour through the desert. I think they must have thought we were going to be important clients because the camels were decorated in festive clothes.
We traveled about 40 kilometers that day, perched on the humps of two beasts with the most advanced cases of halitosis. Larry was also quite convinced that his guide had tuberculosis; I will spare you a description of his audible symptoms.
Oasis in the Desert is not just a figure of speech. Its all about that water supply.
At noon, our camel guides found an empty corner of a goat herder's house, lit a fire and prepared us a greasy lunch. We were trying to politely push the victuals around on our plates, giving the appearance of eating, but really focusing on peeling the oranges we had brought along; Larry tossed the orange peels outside and immediately, several little dirty children scampered by, grabbed up the peels and ate them.
Through a complicated series of gestures, we managed to convey to the kids that we wanted them to have some of our food. They disappeared for a minute and then ran in with big leaves, coated in black dirt. We dumped our food on the leaves and they inhaled it, even licking the filthy leaves at the end. As Michael would say on the mockumentary, The Office, "that was a win, win, win."
Larry at the top of a sand dune. He made a little nomadic friend who ran up and down and around the dunes with the friendly, teasing American.
The predictable picture of the sun setting and me silhouetted on a kneeling camel. It was a stupendous day!
The next flight took us to Ahmedabad, a large industrial city in the state of Gujarat. There were many textile industries here. Our primary reason for visiting was the Ghandi connection. Larry had an admiration and fascination with the life of this humble Indian leader; there were a number of attractions relating to Ghandi's life in this city. Larry had read that among Ghandi's few earthly possessions, he had a small, wooden spinning wheel, upon which he spun the cotton fabric for his simple garments. A spinning wheel was the souvenir that Larry wanted to bring along home.
Visiting one shop after another, we finally found what Larry was looking for. Based on the reactions, I don't think many tourists come searching for spinning wheels. They kept wanting to sell us the cloth. The workers showed us how to take it apart and reassemble; we carried that contraption like a wooden cross in a gunny sack for the rest of our travels.
The beautiful beaches of Goa were our next welcome stop. We found a hotel with a balcony overlooking the sea and could feel the ocean breeze at night. I spent the first night on that balcony, throwing up. Must have eaten some bad prawns for dinner. If you are going to be sick, at least its nice to be in a pleasant seaside setting.
Wives of fishermen cleaning and repairing the fishing nets.
Sunset on a row of fishing boats.
From the old hippy hangout beaches of Goa, we made our way south, to the cities of Bangalore and Mysore.
Mysore is the Sandalwood City. The whole city has a lingering scent of sandalwood, jasmine, musk and many other fragrances; it is a major center for incense manufacturing in India. It is also a craft center with incredibly intricate carvings. 30 years later, our souvenir elephant family from Mysore still has that soft scent of the sandalwood from which they were carved.
As we journeyed, we frequently snacked on peel-able fruit, knowing that would be safe to eat. We washed our clothes where ever we could.
Typical bathroom for the level of hotels that we frequented.
Musicians in concert, using ancient Indian instruments.
No visit to India would be complete without a snake charmer. This charmer was sitting on a street corner, making his cobra dance. After Larry snapped this photo, we turned to walk away. Leaving the snake unattended, he ran after us, demanding money. Can you imagine rounding a street corner and meeting a lonely, hooded cobra, swaying rhythmically?!
It was common to see cow droppings drying on walls of buildings; once dried, they were burned as fuel in cooking fires. Wood was a scarce commodity.
The last stops of our twenty-one day trip included Trivandrum, Madras, Delhi and finally, Calcutta. For sheer beauty, Kovalam Beach, near Trivandrum, close to the tip of India where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean, and the Arabian Sea meet, was unsurpassed. I remember sitting at a little restaurant beside a lighthouse, as the evening slipped into the night, and being speechless with the wonder of this most beautiful place on earth. I wish I had more pictures.
We visited the Calcutta office of the worldwide relief organization: Mennonite Central Committee.
Our last night in Calcutta, before we started our trek back home to the states; we found ice cream to celebrate my 25th birthday.
We splurged with a lovely meal on our overnight stay in Bangkok.
Our flight home took us through Hawaii, where we had several days to acclimate back into the western world.
This journey began three months earlier, with an accident totaling our car. The whole time we were in India, we chose to pray rather than worry, about our need for a vehicle when we returned. We still had one semester of school left before graduation and jobs and an income. But God knew all of that and He is trustworthy. When we deplaned in Atlanta, some of our families members were there to greet us. We walked together out to the parking lot. There sat this beautiful Honda Accord, wrapped in a large bow, straight from the hand of God. Some of our family had found this reliable vehicle, gathered $6,000 to apply toward its purchase, and then handed Larry and I the keys. We felt so loved. What a humbling experience to be the recipients of that kind of generosity! We determined that the only appropriate response would be to continue the circle of kindness, if we were ever in a position to be generous.
I think it would be fascinating to revisit India now; I wonder who has changed more in the last thirty years, Larry and I or this pungent, sense-assaulting country . We are no longer young and impressionable, but I hope that we would still be open hearted. What an adventure for two sheltered kids!