Hinduism

Day 111: Kadalekalu Ganesha Temple, Hampi

Kadelekau Ganesha Temple was right at the top of a hill right outside of Hampi Bazaar. We saved it for our last morning in Hampi. We didn’t think ahead that the temples would be flooded with Indian tourists off of work and out of school over the weekend. We were immediately surrounded by curious children and we chatted and walked together from one Ganesh temple to the next, and then we weren’t at all surprised when they spotted us sitting in the shade inside the Krishna Temple. One of the girls said she was going to show her father the picture of her with us when she got home. (Adorable!) Again, I cannot stress how much I love LOVE India when I’m not trying to get from point A to point B, get a room for the night, buy a blanket… (anything involving money, really…) These girls and these interactions are why people and me included say I LOVE India!

Opposite the Krishna Temple was this wide open space lined with ancient pillars. Unfortunately we had (have) no idea what it was used for. I’m guessing another bazaar of some sort simply because it was reminded me of the bazaar we saw the day before.

I thought this woman looked so calm reading on what is actually a rooftop that was even with the road, but sat above the river below.

Day 107: Elephanta Island

Elephanta Island was known as Gharapuri until the 17th century when the Portugese renamed it because of the huge elephant statue that stood at the base of the island. Unfortunately, the statue is no longer there (the Portugese dropped it in the sea, and now it’s in The Dr Bhau Daji lad Museum in Mumbai), but many caves full of ancient Hindu statues and reliefs still stand.

After an afternoon on the very touristy island, we had kebabs from Bademiya, a kebab stand/restaurant (Andrew would like me to tell you it’s a “Mumbai street food institution” in the heart of Colaba. The men making the flat bread let me hop in and help before we ate. (SO FUN!) But I wasn’t very good, so I didn’t stay long and instead we met up with our new friends, Robert and Maddie, from our camel safari for drinks and they coerced us into trying paan- an after dinner digestive that might not be my favorite thing to order from a street stand… But still, it was fun to try and even more fun to do with friends!

I tried to wait around to get a picture of this most famous three headed Shiva sculpture, but it proved impossible. I actually wasn’t really sure that I saw this sculpture because I tend to flee from mass amounts of tourists, which flooded the scene shortly after I took this picture. One little girl kept practicing her English, saying “EXCUSE ME!” over and over again. It was cute, and I think she wanted to be my friend, but she kept throwing me off because every time she would say it I kept moving around thinking she was right behind me and I was blocking her view!

Day 95: Pushkar!

Brahma, the Creator is one of the three most important Hindu gods. But his following isn’t nearly as strong as the following that Vishnu, the Preserver, and Shiva, the Destroyer have. Many believe it’s because of the story behind Brahma’s yagna (a sacrificial ritual that is supposed to take place at a specific time dictated by the stars). The story goes that Brahma was supposed to marry Savitri (or have a wife in time for the yagna?) at this particularly auspicious moment, but she was late. In desperate need of a wife to perform the ritual, the gods purified an unmarried shepherdess, Gayitri, from the untouchable caste, so she could be married to Brahma. After they were wed, Savitri showed up and was not happy Brahma married someone else. She put a curse on him, from then on, he would only be worshipped in Pushkar. Furthermore, the untouchable caste would only be liberated if their ashes were scattered on Pushkar Lake.

Pushkar is one of the five holiest places that Hindus pilgrim to. Foreigners and Hindus alike are encouraged by the locals (not only the Brahmin priests) to make Pushkar Puja (a religious ritual).

The guidebooks agree that making a puja and a donation at Pushkar Lake is pretty much unavoidable. Sure enough, not even ten minutes into our first walk through town to get our bearings, a man began talking to us about going to the lake and making puja. One we arrived at one of the ghats, a Brahmin priest took over, and we were ushered in. Of course, we had to slip off our shoes and then walk down the steps covered in pigeon droppings barefoot before we sat next to the lake, me with one priest, and Andrew with another.

The priest had a metal tray with tikka powder, rice, a coconut, and a string for the ceremony he performed with me. I repeated a lot in Hindi, and then repeated several prayers for not only myself, but also for my ‘husband,’ and for all of my family. I washed my hands in the water and touched it to my ears, my eyes, and my heart. The tikka powder was put onto my forehead. The coconut was thrown into the lake. Water was thrown behind my back. Money was asked for.

“Some people give thousands of rupees for their karma. It is for all of your life. You will only do this blessing one time. How much will you give?” The books warn of this as well. Indian pilgrims give between 21 and 51 rupees. (Why it’s an odd amount, I’m not sure) It suggested a foreign tourist can give at most 101 rupees. I tried my best to avoid saying exactly how much.

“Oh, my husband has all of our money…” I said.

“You can give 5,000 rupees?” The priest asked. I restrained from rolling my eyes at his cheap trick.

“50 rupees.” I replied, but ended up giving 100, because who asks for change when your karma is involved, right?

We turned around to see others were watching, walked back through the pigeon droppings, to get our shoes and continue our walk through the city, a bit quieter with the ‘Pushkar passport’ (the red string from the puja) as the locals call it, wrapped around our wrists.

Without a doubt, Pushkar is the quietest town we’ve been to so far, and perhaps the smallest (coming it around 15,000 people). Aside from shopkeepers calling out for you to “look for free,” it was lovely to be able to stroll through without the in-your-face rickshaw drivers of Delhi and Jaipur that had been our last few days.

I was also delighted with the barbers in town. I think I have a thing for foreign barber shops, but how could you not when one looks like these do?

On our way back to our guesthouse, some children were playing in the street. If children aren’t asking for a school pen, or ten rupees, they are asking for “One photo?” These little ones were too cute to refuse. In case you’re wondering what’s up with all of the heavy eyeliner on the little ones, I asked. It’s to protect them from the evil eye.

Day 81: Varanasi and The Ganges

To say we were both a bit homesick and exhausted spending Thanksgiving traveling from Nepal to India is an understatement. Our train arrived in Varanasi around 8 AM, and we were ushered into a bicycle rickshaw that an 80 year old tiny Indian man hopped on to bike us (me, Andrew, and all of our stuff) to the area of town we were staying. After little electricity, and the 26 hour transit time, I was barely able to call my Mom to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving before she fell asleep the night of (in America). In India, it was 10 AM, and we just walked into our lovely, I mean, LOVELY guest-house/NGO in Varanasi. A guesthouse that has electricity, internet, hot water, breakfast, lunch, and fellow travelers who don't hesitate to strike up a conversation with you, and most importantly give you tips on the post office, yoga classes, you name it… Our friend Claire recommended The Kautilya Society to us, and we owe her a big hug (and maybe some palak paneer), because we needed some warm fuzzy feelings after the past couple of weeks.

We decompressed. Ate a HUGE lunch. Showered. Slept. And then as dusk started approaching, we set out to explore some of the city. We meandered through the side streets leading to and from our guest-house, we ran into friends we made on the train from Gorakpur, and we ended up at The Ganges. 

Before it was dark, walking along the river felt kinda like walking along Lake Michigan in Chicago. Some people walked their dogs (that were pets), families sat along the edge of the bank, and there was a gentle calm that wrapped around everyone, that feeling you get when you're kinda on the outside of a city looking in. Only in this city, giant oxen nonchalantly walk past you, Sadhus sit covered in ash and wrapped in bright gold giving out good luck (for a price of course), a woman walks into the water to bathe, and candles float past full of prayers and wishes. 

When it's nearly dark, and you realize the ghats are lit up, lights are reflecting into the water, and it hits you that you are in India, standing next to the holiest river in the world. It makes every 24 or in our most recent case, 26 hours of travel totally worth it. All of the stress of broken down buses and culture shock and stiff shoulders melts away when you're staring at something so foreign and beautiful and in this case, holy.

We walked towards the lights and found ourselves amidst a huge crowd of people (mostly Indian) watching the evening puja. This is basically the evening ritual along The Ganges. From my understanding, each Ganges puja ceremony also incorporates an Aarti Ceremony as well. I found this most fascinating because these giant copper lamps were held up and rotated around. I kept thinking about how my arms would have been quivering holding one of them above my head, but these guys have more practice and didn't seem to have a problem with it. Upon researching what the significance of the lamps was, I discovered that it's moved around in a circular form to illuminate the god or element (in this case, water) to greater see the face of the diety. Kind of like the Christian version of "This Little Light of Mine…" but, much cooler. Ok, obviously I have some more learning to do about Hinduism, so please don't take offense to my comparison and curiosity when it comes to Hinduism. "Religion class" in my 12 years of Catholic schooling consisted of Catholicisim. And Catholicism only… I have some catching up to do. (If you have any good world religion book suggestions, please let me know!)

We attempted to find The Brown Bread Bakery for dinner, Andrew read about it on Trip Advisor and then Lonely Planet that it was highly recommended. The restaurant we showed up at was an impostor, but it served up some great curry and offered a lovely night view of the city.