I think the first thing I noticed about India was the smell. Varanasi was my port of entry after leaving Nepal and the stench of too many people living too close together was overwhelming. The mixture of rotting garbage, human waste and cow pies- suffocating. Men urinate where and whenever they have the urge and as I tried to navigate the small alleyways I had to tiptoe around mounds of steaming feces left by the city’s many roaming cows. And the holy cows are everywhere!! They are found anywhere a human is and it seems like their favorite place to nap is in the middle of a busy intersection completely oblivious to the parade of traffic struggling to carefully go around them.
When I managed to get “use to” the stench- and I use that term loosely because you never really get use to a smell like that- it just becomes a little less surprising- I was able to see why so many people are lured to this holy city.
The main attraction here is the Ganges River. Life revolves around this long, dirty, holy river and is worshiped by Hindus who believe in its healing powers. Everyday people come to bathe, wash clothes and bless themselves in the putrid water. Sadhus- holy men with long Medusa style dreadlocks and matching beards- walk in packs along the river holding long three pronged spears and stop at the many scattered temples to accept 
offerings and worship Shiva. Mamas in bright saris carry babies with kohl-lined eyes as little boys practice flips off the side of the concrete steps that form the river’s bank. It’s a place of nonstop commotion and nonstop devotion. Thousands of Indians come to Varanasi hoping the river will wash away their sins and send little paper boats- filled with a burning candle and flower petals- floating down the river with hopes of bringing their family good luck.
There are several “Burning Ghats” along the river where the dead are taken to be cremated. I happened to be staying at a hotel along the funeral route and on many occasions watched the funeral processions march by. They chant prayers while carrying the corpse- swathed in silk cloth and fake flowers- and each male family member carries a log to fuel the funeral pyre. I was expecting something more gruesome at the burning ghats. I had visions of a heap of dead bodies all thrown together but it was actually quite nice- as far as funerals go. Each deceased person is dipped in the river three times then the wood is used to build a small square hut around the body before it is set on fire. The ghat runs 24 hours a day and over 300 people are cremated here daily. The ashes are then thrown into the river securing the deceased person’s soul a path to heaven.
After a few days in Varanasi I boarded my first of many Indian trains headed to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Being a novice to the train system I had been mislead and was waiting at the wrong platform. I realized my mistake just as the correct train started rolling away, made a mad dash for the right platform and tried to leap onto the moving train with all my luggage- which weights about 60 pounds. I got one foot on when the weight of my pack started to pull me back towards the platform. So now I’m hanging half on half off to the train while my Chilean traveling companion is running behind me trying to push me on and board himself. Thankfully 3 Indian men came to my rescue and dragged me on to the train. I dissolved into a heap of bags and fell into a fit of giggles that lasted the rest of the journey.
We rolled into Agra bright and early the following morning and just in time to see all the men come out to the tracks for their morning poo. There must have been around 50 men squatting next to the tracks in the not so high grass doing their business for all the world to see and sadly not one of them was carrying a roll of toilet paper…
Agra is a pretty nondescript town without much appeal or lure except of course to go see the Taj. Seeing the mausoleum was a very surreal experience. It seemed like a mirage, like a photo and even walking barefoot around the cool, white, marble courtyard and tracing my fingers along the many flowered carvings it was hard to believe I was actually there. I’ve never been so affected by a building before and I’m not sure if I ever will be again. Breathtaking is an understatement.
Next it was off to Delhi and I was greeted by the worst exhaust and pollution I have ever experienced. My body reacted promptly to the world’s most populated city by turning my throat into a sore, scratchy mess leaving me without any motivation to go and see any of the sights. Plus, my preferred mode of transportation in cities are my own two legs but the mob of vehicles, people and garbage make a leisurely stroll impossible. The one time I did take an auto rickshaw I was fearing for my life as my driver- a 16-year-old boy with three chin hairs- kept taking his eyes off the road to tell me he’s a good driver and I should pay him more as he drove like a madman narrowly missing people, cows and trucks that could have turned our little 3-wheeled vehicle into a tin can upon impact.
Before coming to India I was felling very apprehensive. I had heard so many horror stories from other travelers who all seem to think that a blonde woman traveling on her own in India was a very bad idea. Most of their concerns stemmed from the typical, sex-starved, aggressive Indian male. Their concerns turned out to be not too far fetched as I’ve found the men here to be the most disgusting creatures I have ever encountered. Every single time I leave the sanctuary of my hotel room and brave the busy streets I have to stare straight ahead and pretend not to notice all the leering, lustful glances pointed at me like I was Pamela Anderson in a thong while really wearing oversized pants and baggy tee-shirts. Staring back at the men only provokes them and encourages their rude comments. However, it could be worse because I haven’t been groped yet like many women I have talked to. But what’s really mind boggling is trying to figure out how a country where women are seen as second-class citizen and nothing but baby makers recently elected their first woman president!?!
Despite the unwelcome advances and pollution I’m finding India the most interesting country I have ever visited. The people, colors and just the manic speed of their lives is exhilarating. It’s been complete madness but I’ve got to be honest I kind of love it.
