"Anything is possible in India!"
- shouted out by a dusty cycle rickshaw wallah in Rajasthan, India.
Five years ago on a backpacking trip through Asia Joel stood in Kathmandu and had to make a decision with his travel mates whether to push on into India or double back through southern China and into South East Asia. Although the resulting journey was marvelous he has always had an overwhelming desire to make up for lost time and get to the Sub-continent. Tina, on the other hand, had always wanted to see the Taj Mahal, loves Aloo Gobi but wanted to avoid Delhi belly at all costs. Decisions, decisions.
So we got together with our good friends Lucas and Tennielle grabbed some Imodium, a good sense of humour and headed to the sensory overload of India for our spring break vacation.
Walking through the dusty, crammed, loud, chaotic streets of Old Delhi we all savoured the feeling of being back, travelling through Asia. Amidts the motor cycles, motor rickshaws, cycle rickshaws, cows, goats and people we took in the forts, mosques, streets, and buildings that Delhi is famous for. As a side note learning how to swear in Hindi during my 9th grade Science class really came in handy here. I knew there was a life lesson there somewhere.
We boarded the train and headed off into the province of Rajasthan's capital, Jaipur. Train travel is not only essential for travel in India but appears to represent the arteries of a nation whose political heart is hundreds of miles removed from most of her citizens. The bustling platforms, small scale business associated with each station, shanty towns along the tracks and the tremendous ability to link Indians of all areas combine to underline the importance of this system.
We unloaded at Jaipur and took in the "Pink City". In 1876 the Maharaja had the whole city painted pink for the visit of the Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII. (Possibly a Valentines gift gone mad?). Amongst all of this pinkness the bustling of the streets is the real draw. Camel carts, big moustaches, donkeys, etc all give the dusty city its charm. After a few days in the old city we decided to hike up to the overlooking fort. On the way down in the winding alleys we walked by our 418th cow that day. Thinking nothing of it we walked by until it reared its head and gored (maybe an overstatement) Joel in the back, tossing him across the alley and into an oncoming motor scooter. The driver was actually angry that my leg ended up under his wheel until he saw the gash across my back and sped off thinking he was at fault. What an upstanding man. Sadly, the sacred cow that in fact had caused my wounds felt no remorse. Only in this country would the rest of the people on the street take the bovine's side but alas I had utterly no defence. At the end of the day we decided to take in our first Bollywood movie at the famed Raj Mandir Cinema. The roof looked like a giant marshmellow, the crowd was lively and the movie was way over the top. Brilliant. (Odd side note - the Bollywood movie was filmed in Alberta?!?)
Patched up, we boarded a local bus and headed to Agra to see the Taj Mahal (courtesy of Sayaka/ Chris). Getting dumped off in Agra and hopping a rickshaw to our hostel we first caught a glimpse of the Taj. Our hostel's rooftop overlooks that grounds and we watched her all evening. Many descripters have been thrown at it over the years but it really is simply "perfect". It didn't dissapoint at all. Additionally in a trip filled with remarkably atrocious smells Agra produced the foulest of them all. Well done. Leaving late at night in a torrential downpour and howling winds our rickshaws weaved through the dark streets dropping us a block short of the train station as a billboard lay across the road. Wet and dirty we boarded the crowded night train for Varanasi.
Varanasi is a sacred destination for Hindus as they come to wash their sins away in the Ganges river and hope the die on her banks. It is where the spirituality of India's people are evident all over the colourful ghats. The shaved heads of the devoted, the ritual-laden prayer of the pilgrims, the washing of the clothes, the splashing of the children, the ringing bells, the incence burning, the creamated bodies floating, the cricket playing is all so other worldly. The river is so remarkable in that it is so unremarkable except for the peoples devotion to the mother Ganga. Its not especially long, or wide, or powerful or beautiful. But its importance to the people over rides all of these things and makes it completely facinating. We spent a few days here and took row boats up and down the area in the mornings and evenings and tried to soak it all in. It's a place that becomes more and more complex the further you look at it but is well worth the effort to linger. A highlight without question.
Back in Delhi we headed to Gandhi's memorial site at the location where he was assasinated and checked out the New Delhi part of town. A day of shopping and some well earned Kingfisher 's later our India jaunt came to a close.
It was one of the best places we've been together and can't wait to get back there soon. It was really special to travel with our good friends Lucas and Tennielle as they are returning to Australia after this school year.
Thank you India.
