Extending the Day

April 21, 2002-Monkeys
(photos:Monkey Temple,
Jain god with open eyes,
Worn out guide)

The red Dulgah Temple beckoned as we continued through the old city. She was the wife of Shiva. It is also known as the monkey temple for a good reason. Although not as numerous as in the past, monkeys were certainly evident. We had to remove our shoes and Amman suggested we also remove our socks since the tile floor was wet and muddy. We decided to keep our socks on then remove them before we put our shoes on again. The floor was as bad as he said it would be and I was grateful for long legs that could span from one unsavory patch to another. The smell and smoke from burning incense made it impossible to take a deep breath. The crush of the crowd was exaggerated since this is a festival time. But, once again, the colors of it brought forth the lotus from the mud.

Higher Ed

When we left the area of the river and the old city, we headed for the refined air and wide avenues of Benares Hindu University. This was where Amman studied and he proudly showed us around. Since there are 300 languages in India, English is the language of the university. Competition for entry is extreme and young people can be destroyed by a refusal for admission. Once accepted, the fees to this government university are very low. Over 68,000 students attend of which 35% are women. About 25,000 of those students live in dormitories on campus. Founded in 1913, the buildings reflect the colonial architecture of Britain. The maintenance reflects the Indian practice of neglect. Even the houses of the professors were peeling and blackened by the growth of lichen. The schools of Western and Ayurvedic (ancient naturopathy) medicine are well thought of and the latter school has its own herb gardens. The one sparkling clean white building that caught our eye turned out to be the Hindu temple for students. Since it was Sunday, there were several cricket games being played. Perhaps it was an Indian version of padding the outfield, but cows joined the players on the field if not in the action.

Getting Naked

Although not on our program, I’d asked to see a Jain temple and that was our next stop. It’s an extreme form of Hinduism and even they have different sects. In this case, there were two Jain temples next to each other. One was orthodox and the other reform. Even with their irreconcilable differences at least they were neighborly. The temple of the more progressive sect illustrated the affluence of the Jain community. It was a white marble edifice with lovely inlays and heavily carved wooden doors. The ritual of washing the statue of the god in milk was in process. The priests had masks over their mouths so the bad breath of their bodies wouldn’t contaminate the god. The gods of this sect of Jainism were shown with their eyes wide open. The people believed they had to look directly into the eyes of the god when they prayed. Aside from the obvious, the most remarkable thing about this temple was that it was spotless. Evidently money can buy cleanliness. Their neighbors, the orthodox Jains, required that we remove even our socks. For one who does not walk barefoot in a strange hotel room, this was a challenge. But once again, the floors were clean. They don’t permit the wearing of leather and they checked our belts and camera case. Their gods are shown with eyes half closed as in a meditative state. They seem to allow women to be priests. Our guide must have told us six times in as many different ways to prepare us for the fact that some of their more traditional followers don’t wear clothing. They’re stark naked and live that way in the temple and on the streets. Sure enough, a small, skinny, elderly Indian man walked by us as we watched the rituals. It was not a pretty sight. When I tell you that India is a diverse country, I can assure you I have not touched the surface.

We came back to the hotel energized and in a daze. We showered and tried to rub the saffron color of our marigold leis from our necks with little success. Putting on clean clothes was a religious experience as we luxuriated in our five-star world. We went downstairs to eat and I ordered diet Pepsi. I’d been up for so long I thought it was time for lunch, but it was only 8:45 AM. The meal they were serving was breakfast. Talk about losing track of time. We hooked up with Zane and Todd, the guys from L.A. and arranged to meet for dinner. By the time we finished eating, Amman was back and ready to put us through our paces again.

New Lows

The next temple we saw was for Mother India. It shouldn’t have been surprising given the nature of Hinduism. In 1978, a freedom fighter built this temple when the British released him from jail. It’s a tribute to the sub-continent that provides their way of life and sustains them. There are no statues, but a huge relief map of India is the centerpiece and takes up the entire floor.

We knew that shopping was in our future and the future was now. Silk is the main business of Varanasi and Muslim weavers are the ones who manufacture it. The Hindus sell it in their shops and we were destined to see both. I keep saying this, but we once again reached a new low in poverty, flies, and “schmutz” (I’m running out of words for dirt). The Muslim section of town was just plain disgusting. David said it was obvious that this town hasn’t spruced up for the tourists. This could be a city saved by Purell, the anti-bacterial waterless cleanser made in Akron, Ohio. If they could make it cheaper than water, it has a future here. After seeing the glory of the Muslim empires, it was wrenching to see how far they’ve fallen. Perhaps the Imams could spend more money on encouraging the youth to use their minds to create and invent instead of training them to use their bodies as bombs.

We had a break in touring and were scheduled to meet Amman at 5 PM. We went down to the lobby and found him fast asleep. We called his name, but he didn’t respond. We even took a flash photo of him and he didn’t budge. David finally had to shake him to wake him up. I guess we’d worn out our guide.

We headed back down to the Ganges for evening prayers. It was time to say good-bye to the sun and to say prayers for Mother Ganges. Evening prayer was said in unison and led by Brahman priests rather than the individual prayers of the morning. As our car neared the old city, the streets were more congested than before. It was bedlam with a flood of people going in both directions as pilgrims began to leave the city. We drove over the remnants of coconut husks and shells left from the morning offerings to the gods until we could drive no farther.

We walked along a different route of narrow lanes than we took earlier in the day and found ourselves picking our way around open flowing sewers. For the first time in our trip to India, the stench of human feces was apparent. The heat of the cooking fires from the stalls enveloped us and exaggerated the stink. The effluent contrasted with stalls selling exquisite and immaculate silk as the ever-graceful Indian women worked their way through the mire. It’s a wonder how they look so cool, clean, and collected in this environment.

No Shortage Of Temples

There were several small temples with Shiva Linga instead of a statue of the god. The linga is a phallic symbol representing the force of creation in the world. Evidently size doesn’t matter, as some were huge and some tiny. We also saw a small temple to Kalli, a wife of Shiva. She was represented with her tongue sticking out like a Maori warrior. I wonder if there’s a connection. We came upon several soldiers lounging around holding their guns and our guide called us over to the side of the alley. We could see that he was upset about something. He told us that the government spends the equivalent of $800 per month on soldiers and cannot find the money to clean up the garbage. It was the first time the sordid living conditions were mentioned. The Indian people aren’t oblivious to their surroundings, but seem to feel helpless to do anything about them.

We reached the ghat and Amman felt confident enough to let us loose for ten minutes so we could wander on our own. I would have sworn there was a heating system running under those steps. The heat rising from the pavement was that severe. Every once in a while we’d come upon someone smoking a cigarette and the fragrance of it was almost like nectar compared to our surroundings. Pandemonium ruled. Chants were emanating from speakers, bells were ringing, electric generators were throbbing, and dust was everywhere. As my mouth filled with the fumes and dried with the dust I gulped my water and lifted my eyes to take in the larger scene. It was reminiscent of a beach party. There were picnics on the beach across the river and people were flying kites. There was a different atmosphere than the morning.

We returned to meet Amman and were led to a rowboat. It was our safe haven and sanctuary in the melee. As we floated far out into the Ganges, the noise from the shore grew muted and our perspective changed. We were now spectators and looked at it from a different angle. The sun set and backlit the banks in a pinkness that softened the decay and focused the celebrants on the purpose of the moment. The saffron-robed priests began to chant and move as one as they swayed and swung incense burners. The smoke rose to the sky forming a bridge for the prayers. Bells continued to toll their holy sounds as priests joined with their sonorous “ohms.” We could clearly see the crematoria where the fires burned twenty-four hours a day. The central fire was kept as an eternal flame. It was said that it was lit by Shiva and it’s the fire from which all of the pyres are lit. The sun was finally down and candles lined the steps of the ghat. Amman purchased some candles in small bowls made of leaves. The bowls were lined with flower petals in the saffron, red, and white colors of Hindus. We lit our candles, made our wishes and set the little baskets into the river. It was hard to see exactly where the top of the water was in the dark and my hand ended up in the water. I whipped out my Purell immediately, but David said he didn’t think that he wanted to touch me ever again.

Amman summed up Hinduism by explaining that it was a way of life and not only a religion. Hindus worship nature and things that are useful to mankind. The Ganges sustains life. It and all rivers are holy for that reason. The peepal tree that gives out oxygen twenty-four hours a day also sustains life. The same could be said for cows, the sun, fire, and Mother India. They began to make images to symbolize that which is important to them and so statues evolved. He said not to go too deep for meaning in Hinduism. It’s all imagination.

I’ll continue this on the next email since I can only send a limited number of pages at one time without having to send it as an attachment.

Toby