We are just back from an amazing and overwhelming experience watching the evening aarti service on the banks of the Ganges River. It was very powerful and intense, with so many people worshiping, and so much sound and color all around us. We sat on the steps at one of the larger river ghats (stone lined steps along the riverbanks). There was a raised and brightly colored platform right along the shore where the steps led to the water. The platform had 9 spots under brightly colored and almost garishly lit umbrellas of colored lights. There were 9 priests, each ritually chanting and singing along with the music, which was amplified by strong speakers. Hundreds of bells were ringing constantly, not in any particular pattern. The priests moved in unison, lifting and swinging ritual objects towards the river, towards the crowd-- in each of the four directions. They started with large golden incense burners, wafting smoke out over the Ganges. Then they lifted very large candle-holders covered in smaller flames, making a kind of giant cone of fire. Next were giant oil lamps with Shiva's snake collar lifting up behind the flame. Between the lifting and swinging of each ritual object, the priests threw handfuls of petals or rice or incense into the river as offerings. We could see the river shining in the reflected lights behind the giant alter platform, and there were hundreds, if not thousands, of lit candles floating in the current. There were the special curved wooden boats, like wider gondolas, filled with people watching the ceremony from the river. (We'll have the chance to watch the morning aarti from these boats tomorrow, in fact.) There were thousands of people lining the ghat where we were watching, and there were separate ceremonies and alters all up and down the banks of the Ganges for the sunset aarti. We could hear the clanging of bells, and chanting, from all around us.
And of course, being such a holy place for Hindus, the ceremony wasn't complete without all the cows. Amidst all the people on our ghat were at least 5 cows and several calves, walking pretty much anywhere they liked. People just quickly moved out of the way if a cow came towards them; clearly cows have the right of way here.
Also amongst us were a lot of pilgrims, a number of priests, some babas selling blessings and bindi dots for our foreheads. And there were children, some quite young, selling things or begging for money. Some of these little kids were digging in the trash right in front of us. It was really hard to see. Today was our first experience seeing obviously poor children, perhaps abandoned or orphaned. These kids, the littlest not more than 3 or 4 years old, wearing rags and just made of skin and bones, were right out there asking us for money or for water, and looking in their eyes you could see how much older they were inside. This aspect was very challenging for some of us today.
Veranasi is an organic city, not planned in the least, and the roads and lanes are very old (this place is one of the world's oldest recorded cities). Traffic is crazy, the roads twist and bend, have holes in the middle of them, bump and drop, and have multiple surfaces from brick to stone to concrete to asphalt to just plain dirt. Our bus bumped us all over the place, and then could go no further. The last couple of miles down to the river had to be done by rickshaw, so we paired up and zipped off through the crazy traffic. It was quite stimulating, and bumpy, and amazingly crowded. I honestly do not know how people can actually drive in this kind of traffic soup. But, like many things so far, it was quite and experience!
When we got close to the river, we came to the area that is shut off from wheel traffic. So we got out and walked the remaining half mile or so to the river. All behind the ghats lining the river are ancient tiny streets, some open to the sky, others under cobbled roofs. They are lined with shops. These streets, really just paths, are narrow and packed with people. In some places, we only had 4 feet across. As we made our way through the paths to the river, we passed countless little shops selling flowers, saris, devotional material, jewelry, prayer beads, scarves, shoes, and street food. We also passed cows, countless scruffy road dogs just lying right in the middle of the streets, goats, babas, shopkeepers, pilgrims, and shoppers. And police officers. We must have seen 50 police officers, and we soon realized why. There is an area in this maze of tiny streets that has one of Hinduism's most holy temples (with a 1000 kg gold roof!). Right next door is a newer mosque, built in the 17th century by a Moghul ruler on the ruins of an ancient Hindu temple. These adjacent sites are highly politicized, with Hindu nationalists calling for the razing of the mosque to return it to a Hindu temple. Regular threats are made to destroy the mosque, so to even go near the area, we had to pass through a metal detector and a body search. And that was just to stand in the tiny street outside and look up at the solid gold stupa and the shiny white minarets of the mosque behind the temple. It was a good reminder of some of the struggles of India's multiculturalism.
Our approach to the Ganges was in stark contrast to our earlier visit of the day to Sarnath. The open fields of Sarnath are mostly archeological ruins of earlier Buddhist temples and small votive stupas. This is the site where the actual Buddha, Siddhartha, first started teaching his followers. It's a major pilgrimage site for Buddhists from all over the world, and we saw many people from Thailand and Japan walking among the ruins. There is one extremely large stupa--at least 200 feet across and several stories tall--still standing. Built 2300 years ago by King Ashoka, it is made of brick and clad in stone, with the remains of a carved stone facade still visible in some places. We walked around the stupa, built right on the spot where Buddha gave his first lecture, and we noticed that it was covered in tiny gold squares just rubbed onto the stone. These were real gold sheets, left as offerings by Buddhist devotees. The hundreds of votive stupas were small brick or stone mounds built as gifts of thanks by followers over the last several thousand years. We walked amidst them and could touch them if we liked. Sarnath was incredibly peaceful and open, with trees and grass around us. It was very quiet, and pilgrims were sitting in small family groups meditating or simply being quiet.
We saw incredibly poor children here as well. They are not allowed on the grounds, but sneak in through breaks in the fence and beg for money from the visitors. We came across and exceptionally ragged little group of 4 kids, the oldest only 7 or 8, and we gave them water bottles. They guzzled the water--it was quite hot out--and some of us gave them money. One little girl, wearing a torn cloth with a hole for her head to fit through and a ripped little skirt, followed us all the way out the gate, smiling and talking and begging and offering to take photos with us so we would pay her. Clearly these kids know how to survive. But it was really heartbreaking for us.
This day was very intense for many of us, with so much of India just coming at us: sights, sounds, crowds, smells, and a very different sense of personal space than we are used to. Nothing is in a straight line or organized to the Western eye. A cacophony of noise and color was all around us. Even walking takes place on surfaces that aren't flat or expected. Cows rise up seemingly out of nowhere. People are jammed everywhere. And the horns, if anything, are louder and more frequently applied than in Delhi. The air is smoky and difficult to breathe. It's very stimulating, and I think many of the students could use some down time. And I suspect that many are already in bed asleep even as I write this.
Veranasi is intense, amazing, and powerful. And we get more of it tomorrow!
And of course, being such a holy place for Hindus, the ceremony wasn't complete without all the cows. Amidst all the people on our ghat were at least 5 cows and several calves, walking pretty much anywhere they liked. People just quickly moved out of the way if a cow came towards them; clearly cows have the right of way here.
Also amongst us were a lot of pilgrims, a number of priests, some babas selling blessings and bindi dots for our foreheads. And there were children, some quite young, selling things or begging for money. Some of these little kids were digging in the trash right in front of us. It was really hard to see. Today was our first experience seeing obviously poor children, perhaps abandoned or orphaned. These kids, the littlest not more than 3 or 4 years old, wearing rags and just made of skin and bones, were right out there asking us for money or for water, and looking in their eyes you could see how much older they were inside. This aspect was very challenging for some of us today.
Veranasi is an organic city, not planned in the least, and the roads and lanes are very old (this place is one of the world's oldest recorded cities). Traffic is crazy, the roads twist and bend, have holes in the middle of them, bump and drop, and have multiple surfaces from brick to stone to concrete to asphalt to just plain dirt. Our bus bumped us all over the place, and then could go no further. The last couple of miles down to the river had to be done by rickshaw, so we paired up and zipped off through the crazy traffic. It was quite stimulating, and bumpy, and amazingly crowded. I honestly do not know how people can actually drive in this kind of traffic soup. But, like many things so far, it was quite and experience!
When we got close to the river, we came to the area that is shut off from wheel traffic. So we got out and walked the remaining half mile or so to the river. All behind the ghats lining the river are ancient tiny streets, some open to the sky, others under cobbled roofs. They are lined with shops. These streets, really just paths, are narrow and packed with people. In some places, we only had 4 feet across. As we made our way through the paths to the river, we passed countless little shops selling flowers, saris, devotional material, jewelry, prayer beads, scarves, shoes, and street food. We also passed cows, countless scruffy road dogs just lying right in the middle of the streets, goats, babas, shopkeepers, pilgrims, and shoppers. And police officers. We must have seen 50 police officers, and we soon realized why. There is an area in this maze of tiny streets that has one of Hinduism's most holy temples (with a 1000 kg gold roof!). Right next door is a newer mosque, built in the 17th century by a Moghul ruler on the ruins of an ancient Hindu temple. These adjacent sites are highly politicized, with Hindu nationalists calling for the razing of the mosque to return it to a Hindu temple. Regular threats are made to destroy the mosque, so to even go near the area, we had to pass through a metal detector and a body search. And that was just to stand in the tiny street outside and look up at the solid gold stupa and the shiny white minarets of the mosque behind the temple. It was a good reminder of some of the struggles of India's multiculturalism.
Our approach to the Ganges was in stark contrast to our earlier visit of the day to Sarnath. The open fields of Sarnath are mostly archeological ruins of earlier Buddhist temples and small votive stupas. This is the site where the actual Buddha, Siddhartha, first started teaching his followers. It's a major pilgrimage site for Buddhists from all over the world, and we saw many people from Thailand and Japan walking among the ruins. There is one extremely large stupa--at least 200 feet across and several stories tall--still standing. Built 2300 years ago by King Ashoka, it is made of brick and clad in stone, with the remains of a carved stone facade still visible in some places. We walked around the stupa, built right on the spot where Buddha gave his first lecture, and we noticed that it was covered in tiny gold squares just rubbed onto the stone. These were real gold sheets, left as offerings by Buddhist devotees. The hundreds of votive stupas were small brick or stone mounds built as gifts of thanks by followers over the last several thousand years. We walked amidst them and could touch them if we liked. Sarnath was incredibly peaceful and open, with trees and grass around us. It was very quiet, and pilgrims were sitting in small family groups meditating or simply being quiet.
We saw incredibly poor children here as well. They are not allowed on the grounds, but sneak in through breaks in the fence and beg for money from the visitors. We came across and exceptionally ragged little group of 4 kids, the oldest only 7 or 8, and we gave them water bottles. They guzzled the water--it was quite hot out--and some of us gave them money. One little girl, wearing a torn cloth with a hole for her head to fit through and a ripped little skirt, followed us all the way out the gate, smiling and talking and begging and offering to take photos with us so we would pay her. Clearly these kids know how to survive. But it was really heartbreaking for us.
This day was very intense for many of us, with so much of India just coming at us: sights, sounds, crowds, smells, and a very different sense of personal space than we are used to. Nothing is in a straight line or organized to the Western eye. A cacophony of noise and color was all around us. Even walking takes place on surfaces that aren't flat or expected. Cows rise up seemingly out of nowhere. People are jammed everywhere. And the horns, if anything, are louder and more frequently applied than in Delhi. The air is smoky and difficult to breathe. It's very stimulating, and I think many of the students could use some down time. And I suspect that many are already in bed asleep even as I write this.
Veranasi is intense, amazing, and powerful. And we get more of it tomorrow!
No comments:
Post a Comment