The streets of old Varanasi are so narrow that even the bicycle rickshaws cannot get down them. It is one of the oldest inhabited cities of the world. When a cow wanders into the street you must push and squeeze past the smelly beast. We stayed right in the old town in the middle of the chaos. We arrived by plane from Delhi, but alas, our bags did not make it, “a load problem”. We were fairly confident that they would arrive at the Varanasi airport the day after we did, but really had no idea if they would find their way to our hotel deep in the warren of narrow alleys. It took diligence on the part of our hotel manager to convey directions numerous times over the course of the day to get the bags back to us.

The streets of Benares are pulsing with people, throngs of them selling things, walking solemnly in funeral processions, doing daily devotions and getting on with the business of life and death. Amidst the chaos and tumult there are places of utter peace and tranquility, the river at sunrise, the Buddhist Stupa, Ghats, temples and more. The culture of the city centers on the Ganges River as it is believed that cleansing in the river or dying here can assist the soul to moksha (liberation or release from the struggle of life and death). There are seven cities in India that offer moksha, but this is considered the holiest of them.

We managed to wake up before sunrise one morning. Actually, it was more that we had a night of little sleep so we happened to be awake. There was an electrical fire in the hotel beside us and we were smoked out of our room. We managed to find another room to sleep in but had to share one bed and it was broken so whenever one of us turned it clunked. Finally, we gave up sleeping (or trying to) and made our way to the river. We caught a boat and watched the sunrise over the Ghats. It was beautiful to watch the pilgrims and Brahman come down to the bank of the river and offer rituals or puja. Each person found their own private moment to contemplate their mortality. Some even jumped into the river yelling, “liberation” or something like that in Hindi. There was such an intimacy and peace surrounding the people doing their rituals that it almost felt invasive to be watching. We bought some flowers and made an offering thinking of our friend Russell who had just passed.

There was only one cremation fire that we could see at a burning Ghat (that is where some of the cremations are done). Women used to be burned alive along with their husbands bodies when they were cremated (suttee). Although this practice was outlawed, there is still quite a stigma for women that are widows. Many widows come to Varanasi when their husbands die to commit their lives to being nuns (saying prayers for pilgrims) and begging to support themselves, waiting for their own death.

The Buddhist history here is intertwined with the Hindu legacy. Gautama Buddha is thought to have given his first lecture in Sarnath circa 528 B.C. at the stupa less than an hour from Varanasi. We sat at the monument for two hours watching the light change and listening to meditation chants.

Unfortunately we ended out visit to Varanasi with Bela coming down with a nasty stomach bug. This, combined with the fire, lost luggage and heartache of dire poverty for widows left us slightly tainted toward Varanasi. We were relieved to move on to the lighter and easier traveling in Bali.

We were in Varanasi for a week in the end of November 2013, Blog was posted January 2014