Varanasi

Varanasi might not have had much in the way of tourist attractions per se, but there certainly was plenty to see along the banks India's holiest river, the Ganges. We saw pilgrims bathing and sending off candles in paper boats, bodies being cremated on tall wooden pyres, and even attended an evening prayer addressed to the river itself. The river certainly was the star in this town, turning every riverbank scene into a Matisse with its speckled reflection of the riot of color on the ghats. We took boat ride at dawn, which showed me the wonder of how the river changed with differences in the light. It also provided ample opportunity to make the most of my camera.

Somehow I failed to capture one of Varanasi's most distinctive characteristics on film - the labyrinth of narrow alleyways that comprises the old city along the river. We were there five days, and must have walked from the main square to our hotel at least ten times, but never managed to learn the twists and turns of what would have been a ten-minute walk. Luckily for us, almost every intersection was patrolled by a machine-gun brandishing policeman, who would tell us which direction to continue in. I wonder if they recognized us well enough by the fifth day to laugh at us.

Almost nightly power outtages made these winding walks even more exciting. Most of the lanes were only around two meters wide, with two- or three-story houses on either side blocking out any possible moonlight. One such night a man offered to guide us through a dark alley. We could have found some excuse to ditch him, but this particularly dark alley was well populated, and certainly would have been well lit if there had been electricity. In the alley he gave us a rather polite version of the Varanasi anthem of "Smoke hash? Good hash." When we declined, he still offered to show us the way to our hotel. Somehow I don't think there is a place in children's stories for the kind-hearted drug-dealer who helps you navigate through dark alleys.

One evening we attended the nightly Ganga Aarti prayer ceremony held right on the banks of the river. The prayer was addressed to Mother Ganga herself, and was attended by pilgrims crowded into dozens of boats and packed onto the ghat around us. Five priests performed the rituals at the same time, leaving behind five identical clouds of incense that drifted off in a mezmorizingly synchronized swirl.

This youngster was one of many children pressing pilgrims with flowers to offer to the river (along with the many men offering head massages...).