3 December, 2008. Varanasi, Uttar Pradesh, India.
After a night of rocking and tossing, sleeping, snoring, and listening to snoring (and the large group of French tourists who surrounded us), I arrived in Varanasi early today. The overnight train experience was, well, like camping out, while moving, with strangers. The train cars are like very narrow hallways with curtains on each side. The curtains open to sets of berths, four on one side and two on the other. I was assigned the lower berth on a 4-berth side, meaning that I shared a very narrow space with 2 Indian young men and their woman friend. My larger bag slid under my seat/bed, while my smaller backpack wedged between the small table and my head space, and after spreading out the provided sheet/blanket/pillow, I was down and we were all respectful of each other’s quiet. I could easily reach my arm across to the other bed, but with the 2-tier structure, should I need to sit up, I could do so comfortably….if the others had not used the floor space for large luggage. Actually I slept about normal, but those moments between deep sleep cycles seemed to have a bit of a click-clack to them. I’ll try to provide photos on the next similar adventure, which occurs in a few days.
Varanasi (previously known as Benares) is by most accounts the most holy Hindu city in the world. The city sits on the great Ganges River, which is identified with the mother goddess Ganga, whose power comes forth from the far-off Himalayas and flows through a large portion of the Indian continent. The city dates back to 1400 B.C., long before the emergence of classical Hinduism, and as Mark Twain said after his visit here, “Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them together.” Hindus believe that the Ganges is a river of salvation, and that those who die here receive moksha (release from reincarnation, and thus salvation) immediately.
In addition to the river, the faithful Hindus come here to visit a special temple dedicated to the god Shiva (the destroying and re-creating lord of the universe). Called the “Golden Temple” due to its large gold dome, this Shiva temple is a major pilgrimage sight, even though it is difficult to reach. One must navigate a series of very narrow streets (no more than 4 feet wide, and filled with shops) and turns, and then the temple gates/entrances appear. I’d love to have photos for you, but inscriptions in the original marble walls prohibit “gentlemen who are not Hindu” from entering. I did try to get near the gates, and after four security checkpoints, I was able to have a glance before moving on.
The city is full of temples and people, shops and traffic (a familiar refrain), but the Ganges ghats are the main draw. About 80 ghats (steps) line the river’s edge, with varying sizes of platforms,
steps, and temple framing leading to the water, which rises drastically during the monsoon season. People (over 60,000 a day) come to the ghats for the numerous reasons: to wash their bodies, to dip in the sacred water, to drop lotus flowers after prayers, to swim, to wash clothes (forming a stunning tapestry of sheets and pants and towels spread over the steps and platforms), to wash their children, to wash cattle, to fish, and to boat. They also seem to gather for 
something akin to a day at the beach, with families forming little umbrella-marked areas for relaxing and drying after a dip in the river. And all of this is done at and in one of the most polluted rivers in the world, with sewage and everything imaginable dumping into it. This very dangerous water has become a matter of international concern by health officials, and though attempts are being made to change things, the pilgrims, and families, still come for days and dips.
And they come to let their dead go. At one of the two burning ghats, pyres of wood and bodies
burn 24 hours a day, as Hindus bring their dead relatives here for cremation. I watched several family ceremonies today, where the dead are placed on specially prepared piles of wood and straw and then, at the appropriate moment after prayers and circling the pyre, lit and burned to ashes. A close relative finally takes the ashes, mixed with river water, and tosses the mixture over his shoulder and into Mother Ganga. Life begins, life ends, and life continues.
What could possibly compel people to risk their health in order to be washed in the river? What could make people ritually burn their dead relatives, all without a tear? These questions frame the mystery – and the majesty – that is the Hindu Ganges world. The connection with the gods is so dramatic, so truly natural, that there is no reason not to identify with the power that is god here. We might say, as possibly their own educated elite might add, that some religious practices must stop because they are dangerous. But a caution for all of us is in view. Who defines what is dangerous, especially in view of faith and the power of God? And what matter is it for the Hindu if this life is shortened a bit, so that the next may come? Or, how is it that Western Christians believe things that fly in the face of science, that some “educated” folk deem as dangerous to healthy living? And what similar uses of water as places of transformation exist in Christian worldviews?
Come to think of it, water is a common element in all religions that I know of. It purifies, and it symbolizes new life. In fact, it makes us live.
Until, at least, we realize the Living Water that transcends every ceremony and all death.
slp
After a night of rocking and tossing, sleeping, snoring, and listening to snoring (and the large group of French tourists who surrounded us), I arrived in Varanasi early today. The overnight train experience was, well, like camping out, while moving, with strangers. The train cars are like very narrow hallways with curtains on each side. The curtains open to sets of berths, four on one side and two on the other. I was assigned the lower berth on a 4-berth side, meaning that I shared a very narrow space with 2 Indian young men and their woman friend. My larger bag slid under my seat/bed, while my smaller backpack wedged between the small table and my head space, and after spreading out the provided sheet/blanket/pillow, I was down and we were all respectful of each other’s quiet. I could easily reach my arm across to the other bed, but with the 2-tier structure, should I need to sit up, I could do so comfortably….if the others had not used the floor space for large luggage. Actually I slept about normal, but those moments between deep sleep cycles seemed to have a bit of a click-clack to them. I’ll try to provide photos on the next similar adventure, which occurs in a few days.
Varanasi (previously known as Benares) is by most accounts the most holy Hindu city in the world. The city sits on the great Ganges River, which is identified with the mother goddess Ganga, whose power comes forth from the far-off Himalayas and flows through a large portion of the Indian continent. The city dates back to 1400 B.C., long before the emergence of classical Hinduism, and as Mark Twain said after his visit here, “Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them together.” Hindus believe that the Ganges is a river of salvation, and that those who die here receive moksha (release from reincarnation, and thus salvation) immediately.
In addition to the river, the faithful Hindus come here to visit a special temple dedicated to the god Shiva (the destroying and re-creating lord of the universe). Called the “Golden Temple” due to its large gold dome, this Shiva temple is a major pilgrimage sight, even though it is difficult to reach. One must navigate a series of very narrow streets (no more than 4 feet wide, and filled with shops) and turns, and then the temple gates/entrances appear. I’d love to have photos for you, but inscriptions in the original marble walls prohibit “gentlemen who are not Hindu” from entering. I did try to get near the gates, and after four security checkpoints, I was able to have a glance before moving on.
The city is full of temples and people, shops and traffic (a familiar refrain), but the Ganges ghats are the main draw. About 80 ghats (steps) line the river’s edge, with varying sizes of platforms,
steps, and temple framing leading to the water, which rises drastically during the monsoon season. People (over 60,000 a day) come to the ghats for the numerous reasons: to wash their bodies, to dip in the sacred water, to drop lotus flowers after prayers, to swim, to wash clothes (forming a stunning tapestry of sheets and pants and towels spread over the steps and platforms), to wash their children, to wash cattle, to fish, and to boat. They also seem to gather for 
something akin to a day at the beach, with families forming little umbrella-marked areas for relaxing and drying after a dip in the river. And all of this is done at and in one of the most polluted rivers in the world, with sewage and everything imaginable dumping into it. This very dangerous water has become a matter of international concern by health officials, and though attempts are being made to change things, the pilgrims, and families, still come for days and dips.And they come to let their dead go. At one of the two burning ghats, pyres of wood and bodies
burn 24 hours a day, as Hindus bring their dead relatives here for cremation. I watched several family ceremonies today, where the dead are placed on specially prepared piles of wood and straw and then, at the appropriate moment after prayers and circling the pyre, lit and burned to ashes. A close relative finally takes the ashes, mixed with river water, and tosses the mixture over his shoulder and into Mother Ganga. Life begins, life ends, and life continues.What could possibly compel people to risk their health in order to be washed in the river? What could make people ritually burn their dead relatives, all without a tear? These questions frame the mystery – and the majesty – that is the Hindu Ganges world. The connection with the gods is so dramatic, so truly natural, that there is no reason not to identify with the power that is god here. We might say, as possibly their own educated elite might add, that some religious practices must stop because they are dangerous. But a caution for all of us is in view. Who defines what is dangerous, especially in view of faith and the power of God? And what matter is it for the Hindu if this life is shortened a bit, so that the next may come? Or, how is it that Western Christians believe things that fly in the face of science, that some “educated” folk deem as dangerous to healthy living? And what similar uses of water as places of transformation exist in Christian worldviews?
Come to think of it, water is a common element in all religions that I know of. It purifies, and it symbolizes new life. In fact, it makes us live.
Until, at least, we realize the Living Water that transcends every ceremony and all death.
slp
