Varanashi, varanashi, varanashi II

Si, Varanasi te un noseque que enganxa. Hi vaig tornar el cap de setmana passat amb un grup d'estudiants japonesos. Tot i visitar la mateixa ciutat, l'experiencia va ser molt diferent. Ni millor ni pitjor, diferent i definitivament enriquidora.

Al mati del diumenge varem anar a missa a Allahabad. La majoria dels assistens eren hindis, pero hi havia alguns (pocs) occidentals. El capella parlava en angles i al instant un altre pastor traduia al hindi. Despres ens varem encaminar cap a Varanasi i al arribar varem anar a veure Sarnath, a tres quilometres al nord de la ciutat. Sarnath es desti de peregrinacio budista perque aqui es on buddha va donar el seu primer sermo (sobre el "dharma chakra" pels curiosos). Vaig entendre la seva importancia quan vaig contemplar un grup de peregrins de Sri Lanka tots vestits de blanc pregant davant del lloc on se suposa que Buddha va donar el sermo. El punt en questio consisteix en un munt de pedres cobertes per papers d'or on la gent ha anat plantant fumejants barretes d'incens.

Resumint, cristianisme al mati i budisme a la tarda, pero aixo no es tot. Anant cap al hotel varem passar per davant d'una mesquita enorme al mig de Varanasi. De fet aquell mateix mati havia descobert la petita mesquita que hi ha dins el campus a Allahabad. Ah, i m'havia oblidat de dir que aqui en comptes de sentir les campanades de l'esglesia ocasionalment sento la crida a la pregaria des de la meva habitacio , com una especie de llunyana cantarella.

L'endema al mati varem fer un vol amb barca pel Ganges (ganga pels indis). Molt relaxant. Varem complir amb la tradicio i varem oferir l'espelma al riu tot demanant un desig. Ganga tambe ens va ensenya la seva cara menys agradable. Tot i aixo, "Ganga is the lifeline of indian culture" (Ganga es el salvavides de la cultura india). Despres d'un esmorzar de reis, o de sultans, com volgueu, varem anar a visitar un temple hindu. No podia ser menys. Imatges de Ganesha, Shiva, Vishnu i mandales al sostre pero en general no massa coloraines. Almenys al interior, l'exterior del temple es rosa. I be, es veritat que les escultures del interior eren tot menys discretes, daurades i cobertes de collarets de flors. Es podien llegir cites de les escriptures sagrades hindus, a vegades traduides.

La India es qualsevol cosa mes homogenea. Es impossible generalitzar en res, i menys en la fe. Crec que vaig llegir en alguna banda que viatjar serveix, entre altres coses, per superar els prejudicis i deixar enrera les preconcepcions. Viatjar es, com a minim, obrir la ment.

Ofrena i desig
Offering and wish
09/07, Varanasi, India

La veu de Ganga
Ganga's voice
09/07, Varanasi, India

Yes, Varanasi has something that grips you. I went there last weekend with a group of japanese students. Although I visited the same city, this second experience was very different. Not better or worse, just different, and definitely worth it.

On Sunday morning we went to church in Allahabad. Most of the people there were Indian, but I could see some westerns also. The priest talked in English and his word were translated into Hindi by a a second pastor next him. After that we went to Varanasi. When we arrived we went to Sarnath, located three kilometers north. Sarnath is a popular destination for Buddhist pilgrims because Buddha pronounced his first sermon here. I understood the importance of this place when I saw a group of pilgrims from Sri Lanka dressed in white praying in front of the place were it is said that Buddha talked. This point was mainly a group of stones covered with shiny golden papers where people had placed smoky incense sticks.

In brief, christianism in the morning and Buddhism in the afternoon. But that was not all. While going to the hotel I had the chance to see a huge mosque from the bus. Actually that same morning I discovered the small mosque in Allahabad's campus. An also, I forgot to say that here instead of the church bells I sometimes hear a voice like a distant tune announcing the praying time.

Next morning we made a boat trip in the Ganges (ganga for the Indians). Very relaxing. We followed the traditions and offered a candle to the river and made a wish. But Ganga sometimes shows his unpleasant face. Anyway, "Ganga is the lifeline of Indian culture". After a luxurious breakfast we visited a Hindu temple. It couldn't be any other way. Images of Ganesha, Shiva, Vishnu and mandalas on the ceiling but not so colorful in general. At least when it comes to the interiors, because the exterior of the temple was mostly pink. And also it must be said that the statues inside couldn't be called discrete: golden and covered with flower necklaces. Quotes from the sacred Hindu scriptures could be read all over the walls, sometimes translated.

India is not that's for sure, especially when it comes to faith. I read somewhere that traveling can make us overcome prejudices and leave preconceptions behind. Traveling is opening your mind, at least.

Dixit: "Are you with them?"

Varanashi, varanashi, varanashi I

Vaig anar a Varanasi (o Benares pels nostalgics) fa dues setmanes amb en Takaya, un amic japones gracies a qui estic aqui a Allahabad. Nomes son tres hores de trajecte per carretera, perfecte per una escapada de cap de setmana. Varem agafar un bus a l'estacio de Civil Lines i dues hores i mitja mes tard estavem negociant el preu de l'autorickshaw davant l'estacio de tren de Varanasi.

De sobte haviem canviat l'ambient tranquil i provincia d'Allahabad pel bullicios i asfixiant Varanasi. Asfixiant no nomes per la temperatura i la humitat, sino sobretot pel personal huma. Nomes baixar del bus ens varem topar amb una marabunta de rickshaw wallahs que ens oferien els seus serveis a dreta i esquerra. Despres al chowk (barri vell) vaig descobrir que aixo nomes era l'aperitiu. Caminant pels carrerons continuament ens abordaven venedors, captaires, xerraires, guies, massatgistes, barquers, sadhus, mistics... Tots ens intentaven vendre alguna cosa: travesies pel Ganges, massatges, visites per "nomes mirar" a la botiga de seda de turno, bindis, pintures, espelmes per llancar al ganga, postals plastificades (la ultima novetat en postals!!!), pulseres... de tot i mes.

Tot i aixo, l'ambient em va encantar. Varem trobar un hostalillo forca decent amb una terrassa fantastica. Des d'alla varem poder observar una altra cara de la ciutat, la vida als terrats. Mentres esperavem la posta de sol el cel es va anar omplint d'estels. No vaig aconseguir fer una foto que plasmes el moment. A baix, les veines petant la xerrada de balco en balco, els nens jugant a criket o fent volar els estels i les mones grimpant de barana a balco, reines i senyores d'aquesta part alta de la ciutat. I a dalt, mentrestant, la llum minvant entre puntets dansaires i bandades de coloms volant ordenadament a les ordres del domador. A vegades nomes cal canviar el punt de vista.

Si, un es posa forca mistic a Varanasi. pero tampoc es pot escapar de la realitat, i la realitat India conte una bona quantitat de vaques. I els carrerons del chowk tambe. Es com estar al barri gotic de Barcelona, amb mes bruticia i rumiants. L'endema, mentre passejavem unes vaques van decidir que volien fer una mica de exercici i es van posat a correr. Tothom s'anava apartant com podia, arrambant-se a les parets o amagant-se darrera les cantonades. Em va recordar als San Fermines.

Quantes cares te Varanasi?

La part alta al capvespre
The high place at dusk

09/07, Varanasi, India

La xafardera i el voyeur
The gossipy and the voyeur

09/07, Varanasi, India

I went to Varanasi (or Benares for the nostalgics) two weeks ago with Takaya, a japanese friend thanks to whom I am here in Allahabad. It's only three hours away from here, perfect for a weekend trip. We took a bus from Civil Lines bus station and two and a half hours later we were negotiating the price of the autorickshaw in front of Varanasi train station.

Suddenly we switched the quiet and still Allahabad for bustling and suffocating Varanasi. Suffocating not only because of the temperature and humidity, but also because of the people. Just a second after getting off from the bus we came across a crowd of rickshaw wallahs who kept offering us a ride non-stop. Later in the chowk I found out that was just the beginning. While walking its streets we were approached by beggars, salesmen, chatterboxes, boatmen, guides, masseurs, sadhus, mystics... All them were trying to sell something: boat trips in the Ganges, massages, "just looking" visits to their silk factory, bindis, paints, candles to be thrown in the river, plastic postcards (last novelty from a kind sadhu), bracelets... anything you want.

On the other hand, I loved the atmosphere. We found a small hostel pretty decent with a great terrace. From there we had the chance to see the other face of the city, life in the flat roofs. While we where waiting for the sun to set kites started to fill the sky. I couldn't take a picture capturing the moment. Below, neighbors chatting from one balcony to another, kids playing cricket or flying kites and monkeys leaping here and there. While above the light kept diminishing between dancing dots and flocks of pigeons guided by the tamer. Sometimes it's only about changing the point of view.

Yes, one can get pretty "cosmic" in Varanasi. But we cannot escape from reality, and indian real life is full of cows. And so do the chowk alleys. It's like being in Barcelona's barri gotic, with more filth and ruminants. The day after, while we were taking a walk some cows decided to do some exercise and started running. Everybody kept moving out of the way, moving closer to the walls or hiding in corners. It reminded me of the San Fermines.

How many faces does Varanasi have?

Dixit: "Please come to my uncle's silk factory. "Miru dake".... Are you japanese?"

Matines

A vegades acompanyo als meus nens al camp a primera hora del mati. A les 6 i quart ja estan al camp seguint les directrius del "farm manager", un homenet fort i energic anomenat Santosh. Es l'hora de plantar, transplantar, treure males herbes, llaurar, abonar, sembrar... Tot i la mandra que fa enfilar-se al tractor a aquestes hores intempestives, el cert es que es la millor hora per treballar la terra. La temperatura es agradable, potser fins i tot fa fresqueta i es pot treballar sense acabar desfet en un bassal salat.

Darrerament no hi he anat tant perque m'he hagut de quedar fent feina a l'oficina, estava massa cansada o senzillament em feia mandra. M'he proposat tornar-hi a partir de dema. M'agrada i a mes a mes m'ofereix oportunitats fotografiques impagables. Els pobres ja s'han acostumat a la paparazzi que tenen per profe d'angles.

Un secret? Disfruto com una nena caminant descalca pel fang, sentint la terra humida contra la meva pell i el xof-xof-xof de cada passa. Tambe es veritat que mes val aparcar les sandalies si no vols passejar-te amb quilos i quilos enganxats a la sola.

De matines

In the early morning

08/07, Allahabad, India

Sometimes I join my students early in the morning in their work in the field. At quarter past 6 they are already there following the instructions of the farm manager, a small and strong man called Santosh. It's time to plant, transplant, weed, spread seeds, cut grass... You have to fight against lazyness to get on the tractor so early in the morning, but it is really the best time of the day to work the soil. The temperature is nice, maybe even cool and one can work without melting.

Lately I have missed it because I had to work in the office, I was too tired or simply lazy. I have the intention to start going again from tomorrow. I like it and it gives me the great photo opportunities. The poor guys must be tired of the paparazzi they have as an english teacher.

A secret? I enjoy walking barefoot on the mud, feeling the wet soil against my skin and the funny xof-xof-xof of my feet. You better take of your sandals if you don't want to carry kilos and kilos stick to your sole.

Dixit: "Gochisoosama"

Bona nit

La finestra de la meva habitacio esta protegida per una tela mosquitera. I sort que en tinc! Cada nit em trobo algun convidat inesperat enganxat a la tela. Sovint es tracta de llangardaixos o insectes mes grans com aquest que veieu a la foto. Amenaca tempesta, pero el bitxo esta de lo mes comode.

Les nits a Allahabad son caluroses. Dormo sota mosquitera i amb el ventilador donant voltes non-stop. Tot i aixi, a vegades costa adormir-se. Somio. Molt mes que a casa. Em pasa sovint quan dormo en un lloc estrany. No he buscat explicacions freudianes. Us les deixo a vosaltres.

Ens veiem en els meus somnis!

L'espia
The spy
08/07, Allahabad, India

My room's window is protected with an anti-mosquito net. I am lucky to have it! Every night I find an unexpected guest waiting for my return sticked on it. Usually it is a lizard or other insects like the one you can see in the picture. The sky is pretty cloudy, seems about to rain, but the bug likes the place.

Allahabad nights are warm. I sleep under the mosquito net, with the fan turning non-stop. Nevertheless, sometimes I find it hard to get asleep. I dream. Much more than at home. It happens to me a lot whenever I am not sleeping in a familiar place. I didn't look for Freudian explanations. I'll let them for you.

See you in my dreams!

Dixit: "small is beautiful"