Cribbed Comments on India

A moment, a few hours, of procrastination on a Sunday morning, brings with it an e-mail from Site Meter, which brings with it a reminder that I have a blog, which brings with it a weak desire to someday do something with it, which brings remembrance that I wrote some sloppy reflections on India in e-mails to family, which ushers in the somewhat guilty decision to keep this poor crippled work crawling along with a few cutandpasted paragraphs, with apologies to anyone who happens to happen upon them:

From Christmas Eve:
My wife and I are here safe in smoggy Delhi. We haven't seen much of the town yet, having gotten in last night at around 11:00 and having just finished up breakfast in the hotel. She had a masala omelette while I had a bunch of unidentifiable but rather tasty Indian delicacies from the buffet. Everyone has been very friendly, the service is extremely attentive, and "Jingle Bell Rock" has played consecutively at least six times in the lobby of the hotel. I'm hoping to catch an afternoon Mass, but it sounds like they only had them in the morning - something we didn't find out until it was too late. Nonetheless, we'll go into the Sacred Heart cathedral (apparently the oldest cathedral in the city) and spend some time praying. Hope you're all well. I'm missing getting up in the morning and watching everyone open presents, but we had lots of fun at our early Christmas parties, for which we both thank you.

Mother, we enjoyed our Christmas Stollen in the hotel room last night after we met here. It was a wonderful treat.

From December 26:
We flew into Khararajho (sp?), India, today, to visit ancient Hindu temples, rediscovered 150 years ago after being hidden for 500 years in the jungle, covered with carvings, many of them erotic and even pornographic. We only spent about half the day sightseeing, but the flight took up the other half of the day, so we are tired. I am happy to be out of Delhi, as the air here is fresh and the roads much cleaner than in the capital. Delhi I'm sure has tons of urban culture, but it's so big that we didn't see much of it, and the slums and dust are psychologically oppressive (though I'm sure they're not so oppressive for me, in my hotel, as they are for the people living in them daily). Hope you're well, and will write to you later.

From January 2:
We are in Varinasi this morning, called the holiest city in all India, and watched the pilgrims and residents make their ablutions in the river Ganges [at dawn]. We saw the remnants of some cremations and watched a family take the body of an infant out to the middle of the river for burial. What was also quite interesting was the old town, a warren of twisting streets not big enough for a single car to pass through. I would like to write and tell more, but I'm in the so-called "business center" of the hotel, which is really just some manager's computer, and I don't think I should monopolize it for long. We'll be home soon, and my stomach will get a chance to relax finally (I've been fine, up until just today, when I started having some trouble). I've loved the trip, but I look forward to home.

From January 2 (later, to other family members):
We are in Varinasi right now, called the holiest city in all India. Its old town is fascinating, a warren of streets that is positively medieval (with the exception of the motor scooter horns screaming from around the corner as they scud through the lanes). The people walk along, yielding right of way to the occasional cow, buying morning breakfast ("poori & bhaji" - a potato and pea curry served on a tortilla-type bread) and tea at cubbyhole stores that open from the walls. As frequently as the stores, one comes across shrines or tiny temples, their sometimes unrecognizable gods splashed with orange paint. In at least two locations (we saw only a small part of the old town), two-hundred year old trees sprout from behind and above and around a shop, and grow at an irregular angle, twelve feet above street. The river Ganges is a sight, lined with empty sand flats on one side and piled temples and "ghats" - steps designed for pilgrims' ease of bathing in the river - on the other. The river is shrouded in fog as the sun rises, and it only slowly becomes visible as a big pink ball over the empty east bank of the river. The river is bobbing with ancient boats filled with tourists (mostly quiet) and pilgrims, and the ghats populated by half naked men, some of them saddhus - Hindu holy men - taking their morning bath in the filthy water. Some women are also present, though not at the cremations taking place at two locations along the banks, for they mourn too loudly, apparently, for such a place as the Ganges.

This is not complete, but I had best get going. Hope all are well, and can't wait to see you again. India has been fascinating, but Chicago beckons.

From January 5 (at home):
My wife and I went off to India for the break, which was a bit exhausting but utterly fascinating. We were visiting her father who was finishing up a three-month teaching in the south of the country. He came up north to Delhi, where we met up with him and my mother-in-law, who had met him in the south a few days before, and commenced on the Golden Triangle tour of the most holy (Hindu) and otherwise famous sights of India. These included the "Taj," as they invariably call the Taj Mahal, the pornographic temples at Kajuraho, the cremation sites on the Ganges at Varanasi, the deer park where the Buddha preached his first sermon, and innumberable fortresses and palaces. It was all interesting, but the relentless differences between Indian culture and our own, not to mention a few microbes in my case, wore us down, and we are happy to be back. Hope you're both well.