Wickets in Calcutta

It was hard to believe, but after just over two months of traveling in India (I really only thought I would be there for maybe a month) I had reached my final destination before moving on to the rest of the world. I booked a flight from Calcutta to Bangkok while I was in Darjeeling, but gave myself a few days in Calcutta before leaving to get a taste of what this city was about. I really had no idea what to expect as I really hadn’t heard a whole lot about this place during my travels. I heard it was a bit more Western than some of the other big cities in India because it was, after all, the capital of India during the British Colonization.

The Howrah Bridge. One of the busiest in the world.

I immediately noticed this westernization not long after I ventured out to get a feel for the city. As I did, I was joined by a new Dutch friend, Ernest, whom I spent most of my time seeing the city with. We began walking down the streets of the city admiring the various forms of architecture that were still noticeably remnant of the powerful British influences. This gave the city a much different vibe from other big cities I had been to in India, but one that I was still able to easily enjoy.

It was funny because I had come to Calcutta alone, much like I do anywhere I go, but I just knew that I would run into some people that I would be able to enjoy the city with and even get to show me around. And it wasn’t long after meeting Ernest that we both had run into a local. As we walked along the street, an Indian gentleman began speaking to us, asking us the basics and starting some friendly conversation. It was his weekend off work and he was with a friend about to get some lunch, so we graciously joined them and he offered to show us around after that. So once again, things had continued to work out with finding good company. A fortunate thing that tends to happen more often than not during my travels, and one that continues to strongly reinforce the positive idea of humanity in the world for me.

St. John's

Our new friend, Tom, took us to some of the main sites around the city, all very impressive. He left us off at one of the oldest churches in the city, and since he didn’t have work the next day he offered to take us to a village outside of the city to get a feel for some of the more rural village life in India. I was more than willing to do this, so we arranged to meet up the next day at the train station and he would take us around the tiny village of Begampur.

The village life provides some of my favorite sights in India. This simple life always highlights the lack of need for complications and material wealth that is always so overemphasized in our current society. Of course luxury is a privilege that we can enjoy, but when we attach ourselves to these luxuries too much it creates a lot more unhappiness than actual happiness. These people don’t need much to be happy or content because it’s all internal. When we got to the village we saw the simple life firsthand when Tom invited us into his Uncle’s house to hang out for a while. He lived in a single room that had everything he needed. Even a small portable DVD player that he used to watch all kinds of movies, Hollywood and Bollywood alike. There wasn’t a lot to do in the village, so after hanging out in the small, cozy village house we made our way back to the train station to catch our train. More stares from the locals ensued as I observed everything as closely as I could, with a deep appreciation for this way of life. However, like most small villages here there is a lack of opportunity and a struggle that you can see amongst some of the inhabitants, which is always part of the consequences of living in these conditions. So like all things there’s pros and cons to these lifestyles, but lessons to be learned and perspectives to be gained in any case.

Cricket with Friends

As we made our way back into the city and wished Tom farewell, my time in India was coming to a close. After spending my last day of India walking through the massive urban park of Calcutta and playing cricket with some of the locals, I had one night left and Ernest had met another Indian friend who had arranged for us to have some fun. We met up with Conrad, our other new Indian friend, and he treated us to the perfect celebration for my last night. We went to a club in the city and I saw a whole different side of India that I had never really seen before. This was the Western-heavy side, where I nearly felt like I was partying back home or in Europe. It was a blast, and we all had such a great time together. It was definitely a highlight for me and it was really the perfect send off to what I’ve called a life-changing trip within a life-changing trip.

Up in the Clouds

Like with most cities, there’s always more to do and see, but I came to Varanasi to see the Ghats and to experience the power of life and death on the holiest river in the world. I was thoroughly satisfied and after a couple days was ready to escape to higher elevation and cooler temperatures. This meant Darjeeling. Nestled in the lower Himalayas in an area between Nepal, Tibet, Bhutan, and Bangladesh, I was somehow still in India. After a 10? hour train (it’s hard to get anywhere in India in less than 10 hours so this is my default) and a 3 ½ hour jeep ride up the very narrow and winding road to the densely lush, pristine, tea-laden hills of West Bengal, I made it to Darjeeling. I arrived to a familiar place. Very reminiscent of Dharamsala on the other side of the Himalayas, Darjeeling is one of the oldest hill stations in India, set up by the British during the colonization and served as the starting point for the first Everest expeditions. I came here, as previously mentioned, for the cooler temperatures and for a better glimpse of the Himalayas. From Darjeeling you would have to be blind to miss the astonishing view of Kanchenjunga, highest mountain in India and third-highest mountain in the world. And on a clear day you can even see the tip of Everest. I had pictures in my mind of these behemoths, rising high above the horizon like clouds in the distance. Never stirring. Too colossal to flinch. The only thing that moves is you beneath them.

Well too bad because I was blind the entire time. With nothing but hopes of clear weather, that’s about all I had to hopefully catch a glimpse of the higher Himalayas. Unfortunately, India simply did not want to reward me with these views, and decided to keep the hovering clouds intact for all 4 days I was there. This was unsatisfactory but the misty movement of the ghostly, elegant clouds of vapor provided for a relaxing atmosphere regardless, and gave the bustling hill station a sense of serenity. I didn’t mind, but if I could have had one clear day of massive mountains I also would not have minded. On the other hand, this was the first time in about a month that I wasn’t sweating, so that made up for everything.

The days here consisted of local sightseeing (not mountains) which included a beautiful tea estate/factory, a zoo featuring native animals of the Himalayas (and yes, I saw a tiger), and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, which was maybe the best sight I came across. It covered a lot of the history of the first expeditions and ascents of Everest and had inside some of the original equipment used by the first two climbers to conquer the highest point on Earth. I had recently finished Jon Krakauer’s "Into Thin Air" before coming here (which covered a crazy Everest expedition in the spring of ’96) so I was able to somewhat relate to the amazingness of the preserved artifacts this small museum held.

View from the roof of my guest house

Aside from these highlights, I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Darjeeling. It’s hard not to enjoy the atmosphere there regardless of what the actual weather is like, which is always a clear sign of a genuinely pleasant destination. I didn’t mention much about the people there but they were all extremely friendly. Most are actually of Nepali origin, which is actually the language of choice in this part of India. And like Dharamsala, it was hard to believe that I was still in India at this point, as you see a much different side of the country here. But further exploration of the diversity of this amazing country only continues to impress upon me just how incredible India continues to be.

Life and Death

Varanasi is the holiest city in India and one of the oldest currently inhabited cities in the world. It’s important. It’s mostly important because of the Ganges River that passes through it. The Hindus and Jains believe that when someone dies in Varanasi and is cremated on the shores of the Ganges, they will achieve Nirvana and be liberated from the cycle of rebirth and suffering. Because the river is holy, it’s only necessary to further wash yourself in it and bathe in the holiness that rids you of your sins. This is what the world famous Ghats are for. Most people have heard of these things, but seeing them in person is definitely an experience and the obvious highlight of this place. As the steps lead down from the city limits to the river itself, there’s something to be said, and seen, for the juxtaposition between life and death; and Varanasi is the place where this contrast is emphasized more than ever. Seeing the public cremations happen on the shores of the Ganges gives you a new perspective on death and gives you a firsthand look at how death is viewed on this side of the world, which is of course in an entirely different view.

The Ghats

Death is merely part of the cycle, another step in the process of continuing your seemingly never-ending suffering, as the belief of rebirth is emphasized to reinforce this cyclic existence. It’s not a sad event when these cremations occur, rather it’s quite the opposite. The people are said to be liberated from this cyclic existence when they die here, thus no tears are shed during this event. The atmosphere remains grim, but in a different light. A subtle sense of hope and contentment fills the air as the ashes are thrown over the holy fire in which the cremations occur, and Nirvana is achieved. This is the belief, and it’s powerful in its own right. It’s a very real place, and the washing and bathing that happens is also a powerfully positive experience for people. I was surprised with the amount of positive energy and overall happiness there was here. This is not a city of death or destruction, this is a city of salvation.

On the Railroad

My journey from Hampi - in Southern India - to Varanasi - in Northern India - was so long that I think it deserves to be mentioned in a post. The total travel time was around 53 hours I think. Three trains, two moderately long layovers, and an entire experience of its own.

I started in Hampi on the morning of Thursday, May 7th. I left my little meditation hut I was staying in and took a small boat to cross a river, took a rickshaw to the nearest train station, and got on my first train to Londa, India; a small village just outside of Goa about 5.5 hours away. I had about 3 hours to kill in Londa before my next train. To be honest, I was looking forward to these two layovers that I had on my long trip north, as I figured them to be places where not a lot of tourists tend to go - off the beaten path - and I had definitely never heard of them.
 

Hanging out with my new friends in Londa, on my first layover of the long journey.

Londa was a cool little place. Not much to do, so I had lunch at a small hotel by the train station that I was happy I wasn’t staying at and then I just decided to walk around and check the place out. The usual stares from the locals ensued. A few waves, hellos, and smiles here and there, and then I came across a more active living space. This one had a group of young children playing cricket in the front yard with a middle-aged man standing outside passing the time. As soon as he saw me he waved his hand for me to come over, so come over I did. He introduced himself, asked me where I was from, and invited me into his quaint little home for some coffee. The kids were enticed by my unexpected visit and proceeded to stare and smile, a couple of them introducing themselves and having fun with it. I had some great coffee and enjoyed the wonderful hospitality that my new friend was providing. We had basic discussion about his home and family, and although his English wasn’t perfect it was enough to have an enjoyable chat. Shortly after our chat he had to go to church and left me with the cricket-playing kids. They saw me whip out my phone to see what time it was and asked if I had any games on there, so I opened one up and they were enthralled. It was priceless watching these kids surrounding each other trying to figure this game out, and there was plenty of excitement and enthusiasm during that stint of entertainment.

Alas, the three hour layover flew and the next thing I knew I had to struggle to remove myself from the highly entertaining situation, only tempted to just stay for another day in Londa, India of all places. The kids walked me to the train station and I hopped onto train number two, nearly 24 hours long, which would take me further north to a town called Itarsi in the dead center of India.
 

A small glimpse of the extensive market in Itarsi, on layover number two.

I got into Itarsi for another threeish hour layover and immediately noticed how busier things were in comparison to my previous stop. This appeared to be a decent-sized town, with an astonishingly massive market encompassing the immediate exterior of the train station. It was slightly overwhelming, but again, I just wanted to take things in and explore. I think I got more stares here than just about anywhere I had been in India. I don’t know of any foreigners who had been to this place and I’m not sure the locals did either. It was a cool experience though, and when I decided to sit at a small shop for some chai (Indian tea), I went to hand over my money for it and the local man declined my payment, offering the chai to me as a gift, and I was already impressed with the hospitality here. Not long after that, as I continued my aimless walk of exploration a gentleman who appeared not much older than me stopped his scooter shortly ahead of me and motioned for me to come over. He spoke little English, but asked me the basics and then invited me to hop on and drive me around. After feeling for the situation I accepted the offer, hopped on, and he drove me through the streets of Itarsi. We stopped at a local food market nearby and he offered to buy me a chai. I had my second free chai and once again took in the great hospitality. He drove me back near the train station and dropped me off at a restaurant so I could get some dinner. I ate dinner, continued walking around to kill time, and actually found a bar nearby, knowing that this is where I would be until my train arrived. As I was sitting alone at a table having a beer and enjoying the journey so far, two younger Indians sat with me at my table and of course we began to chat. They were really nice guys and I even gave them some foreign currency that I was looking to get rid of as a souvenir. It was yet another very successful layover in Itarsi, and I boarded my third and final 15 hour train for Varanasi, which of course would prove to be the most challenging part of the journey.
 

My friends I met at the bar in Itarsi, showing off their foreign silverware I gave them.

The third train would be about 15 hours long, and it was no short ride. I booked my ticket in the lower, cheaper sleeper class. It was packed, cramped, hot, and by no means comfortable. I think there were 15 of us crammed in an area built to normally accommodate half the amount of people. The only comfort I received on the train was from my fellow passengers, of which one spoke basic English and even taught me how to write some things in Hindi. The company was good and the views of rural India passing by briefly provided distraction from the lack of comfort. You see the villages and farms and workers and it gets you thinking, embracing appreciation for the life we lead and the opportunities we have. India does that of course, but more on that at a later time.

I finally made it into Varanasi on the afternoon of Saturday, May 9th. Over two full days of travel had passed and things were still just as hot as they had been when I left Hampi. Was I going in circles for two days? I got off the train and immediately began to sweat.

Temples and Chillaxation

Hampi is probably known as one of the chillest places in India. It’s also known for its beautiful landscapes and just serene atmosphere. Again, I was coming here at the beginning of low season, so things were even more quiet than usual, but I still really wanted to check it out. It’s a lot of people’s favorite destination in India, and for good reason.

Hampi's impressive Virupaksha temple

It’s a pretty small town situated on a small river with guesthouses and things to do on each side. The main side of the river consists of most of the guesthouses and an impressively large temple complex. It’s really nice there but there’s usually too much going on, so people had suggested that I stay on the other side which has a more relaxed atmosphere and better vibes. So I took a small boat to cross the river (the only way to get across without taking a long and expensive 40km detour) and went to a place that my friends stayed at and had recommended. I had my own little hut and I was paying about $2.36 a night to stay there.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived in Hampi was the landscape. Just amazing. It’s a hilly landscape, but instead of these hills being covered in vegetation they were shielded by large boulders. These boulders provided an aesthetic quality to the landscape that uniquely reminded me of a national park you might encounter back home. It was beautiful, and I was excited to do some exploring here.

The popular thing to do on this quieter side of the river was to actually rent a scooter and explore some of the temples and small villages nearby. There were temples everywhere. Hampi is full of them and they complement the landscape. On the precipice of a boulder-strewn hill you might see a small temple capping off the top of it like a cherry on a perfectly constructed sundae. There was one popular temple in particular that provided an above average view of the surrounding area, the ‘monkey temple,’ which of course came with monkeys. I rented a scooter on this day and rode over to the base of the hill that the temple sat on top of and began hiking to the top before 11am. By the time I reached the top I was completely drenched in sweat. Hampi was even hotter than Goa, which made it even more difficult for daytime activities (this is a big reason why it was considered ‘low season,’ as temperatures began to steadily rise this time of year).

But the view was worth it. I got a great panorama of the surrounding boulder-infested valley, and it was quite a sight to see. After the monkey temple I picked up a couple little kids that were hitchhiking to the next village, dropped them off, and continued on to another village called Anegundi. It was a really nice little place with a beautiful temple complex situated on the upper banks of the river. It was such a cool feeling to be cruising around in a somewhat remote village in which I was probably the only Caucasian person at the time. Everyone waves at you, saying hello and just enjoying your presence of being there and exploring.

I spent another day on the busier side of the river seeing the main temple and doing some exploring on my own when I discovered some (ancient?) rock paintings nearby, followed by another temple complex that I never knew existed, in which I was the only person there at the time. It was a lot of fun just walking around on my own and exploring the surrounding area.

I had a lot of time to myself during my near one week stint in Hampi, and it was much needed after traveling with a group of people for the previous couple weeks. But after that week in Hampi I was ready to move on to a busier city setting. I wanted to be back in the craziness and instability that is an Indian city, and I felt the craving to immerse myself in that atmosphere once again. So I was determined to get to Varanasi, and it would be no short journey..