Khajuraho to Varanasi

Since our last post, we have moved from Jabalpur to the small village of Khajuraho, home to some must-see erotic temples, and then on to Varanasi, which has been absolutely incredible. Enjoy!

One of the Eastern Temples at Khajuraho

Traveling to Khajuraho we spoke to a small group who told us lots about family life in India. Firstly that most marriages outside of the big cities are still done by arrangement and the husband tends to be about 25, 2 years older than his wife, with this gap being more like 5 or six years in the recent past. For most couples marriage means the wife leaves her home to join the husbands family; we saw a dramatic example of this near Khajuraho a few days later. They said it was surprising that we (being only 19 and 18) were allowed to travel away from our families.
Near Khajuraho we visited a small village set up by the government to accommodate a tribe of gypsy people. The streets were narrow with simple single story homes built using clay mud and cow dung. It was when leaving here that we first heard and then saw a woman, crying, as she was leaving the village to marry her husband to be. She may never have met this man before and will be moving away from home for the first time to a village which may be a far away.
Yesterday morning we arrived in Varanasi. In the old city narrow alleyways run haphazardly between tall buildings, with every major route filled with people, cows and the occasional motorbike trying to squeeze between the endless tiny shop fronts. Varanasi sits beside the river Ganges (believed to be sacred) and pilgrims come from all across India to bathe in its waters. Sadly I doubt any medical doctor would advise this as the river looks disgustingly polluted. People also come hear to die as Hindus believe dying here sends them instantly to Nirvana. There are two Ghats (large stone steps leading into the river) where people are cremated, one of which burns day and night all year long. It felt strange to see strangers’ funerals. While on a boat trip today we saw a body floating in the water; holy men, children, pregnant women, animals and lepers are all thrown in the river without being burnt. The people who live here are so much less removed from death than we are at home.

Jamie

Our own personal tabla performance.

The small gypsy village nearby Khajuraho was quite fascinating. Most of the children were running about, some pulling others along on pieces of cardboard with string and all of them seemed eager to have their picture taken. In the village we saw two pens with hundreds of chicks inside; the people were paid by the government to look after them until they were fully grown, when they would be taken back and sold on.
The day after this, we hired bikes and rode them around Old Khajuraho, something which many people we met during our stay there had told us we should definitely do. The cycle was really enjoyable but tired us out pretty quickly in the heat. We stopped for drinks at small shop in Old Khajuraho around midday and got talking to the owner; she asked about our stay in India and told us about her son who played the Tabla. A few minutes later her son arrived and we were invited into their home to hear him play!
I took some videos of the village and of the Tabla being played which will hopefully be uploaded shortly.
The temples around Khajuraho were quite different from any other we've seen so far; they were designed to look like lotus flowers a local told us. You can see from the pictures just how intricate they are. The western temples were closed off from the rest and there was an entrance fee to see them. They were much larger and more impressive in general as well as being distinctly more sexual than any of the other temples we’ve seen.
Varanasi has been really interesting so far; the ‘burning Ghats’ as they are called were quite shocking and more so was the floating body we saw earlier today. I’ve been trying to avoid contact with the river as much as possible due to the mud, bone ash and whole bodies washed into the river every day, and we’ve all decided not to let our guest house take our clothes to be washed in the river for the same reason.

Peter

Erotic carvings at Khajuraho

Khajuraho was a very nice place, a small village that had clearly built up around the erotic temples in the west, although the main town was very "touristic" as a local guy put it. His name was Pintu, and we met him at a restaurant on our first night. He told us all about his travels around Europe and Asia, and the many many languages he spoke and the many many girls he slept with. To be honest it became quite boring quite quickly, however he introduced us to his much more likeable and bearable friend Babalu Baba (who was also one of the sleaziest looking men I have ever met). They offered to pick us up at 6am the next morning to give us a free yoga and meditation session, show us around the eastern temples and take us to see Old Khajuraho, which peter has spoken about above.
The yoga and meditation was very interesting, although I had nowhere near the flexibility required and my discomfort made meditation rather difficult. Babalu told us at length about the life of the Sadhus, who are poor monks that eat very little, have very few worldly possessions, and spend their entire lives meditating and smoking marijuana. His words about how healthy they are were intermittently interrupted by deep hacking coughs from the Sadhu sitting with us. The rest of the day was very interesting, the temples beautiful and the village scenic, and we finished by sharing a meal and a drink with Babalu and Pintu on a rooftop cafe.
The next day we rented bicycles, cycled round in the blistering heat, and returned to the village a second time. After stopping for some drinks, we got talking to the mother of a large family, who mentioned that her son played the tabla, after talking to her for a while, he returned, and offered to give us an incredibly special private performance in their home. It was one of the most exciting and incredible experiences yet, and I was smiling from ear to ear the whole way through. He was very skilled, and had recently bought some new tablas from a shop in Varanasi. It seemed to me a big investment for a family that appeared so poor. Photos and videos of that coming.
The western temples were something else entirely. Covered from head to foot in erotic sculpture, they were unlike any temples we had seen so far. Unashamedly graphic depictions adorned the walls of otherwise typical Hindu shrines.
Our overnight trip to Varanasi was uneventful, and we have been here for two days already. After watching a (completely tourist targeted) ceremony, we visited the "Burning Ghats" where people bring their dead to burn, following the belief that anyone that dies or is burnt in Varanasi is released from the cycle of rebirth and reincarnation, and achieves instant Moksha (Nirvana). As we watched the fires burn, you could clearly make out the forms of the deceased in the flames, a sight which I doubt I will ever forget. I felt incredibly uncomfortable and intrusive watching them burn, amongst the family members. Apparently the family members re not allowed to cry, as this attachment obstructs the soul from departing.
Even more unsettling than the cremations was seeing a dead body floating down the Ganges when we took a boat ride this morning. It was face down and clearly had been floating for a couple of days, and no-one but us seemed to take any notice of it. The proximity of extreme religion, busy market stalls and death here is incredible. Unbelievable really.
John

Pilgrims praying by the river Ganges

At the riverside in Varanasi, you are constantly approached by friendly men who want to say hello and shake your hand. However, as soon as your palm is in theirs, they begin to give you a hand massage, saying they will do your head, neck, arms and shoulders for Rs.10 (about 14p). Most give up after you say 'no thank you' a couple of times. However, one was so persistent that he kept going even after several attempts at removing him. This was great fun for Peter and I. Less so for Jamie.

Jamie's unwilling massage.

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