So this is my first blog entry since being in India for three weeks. And the reason for that is because we have been very sheltered these last three weeks, going round the capital city in a huge group of 80 something British students, so not much eventful things actually happen. But today is different, today I'm in Varanasi, the oldest continuously inhabited city in India.
I woke up yesterday with a horrible headache and stomach problems (I won't elaborate). I took the day off to stay in bed, so I missed the last day of my internship at an educational NGO called STIR education.
The way the railway system in India works, is that if you buy a ticket online you will probably go onto a waiting list. You therefore do not know whether you will actually travel or not until a dozen emails later as your seat status is continuously changed.
So an hour before the train was to depart, I checked my emails and, lo and behold, I've got a seat. Now I was secretly hoping to not have a seat because that meant I could stay in bed the whole weekend and get better. Strangely, I'm becoming lazier with this travelling melarchy, and I seem to want to stay in one place rather than see as much as I can.
So, I packed my bags quickly and my room mate gave me way too much of this herbal remedy - concentrated thyme oil. So, we all thought that I would die because my body started going red and blotchy, but luckily all was well.
I took a rickshaw to the train station, still not feeling great. The train arrived as soon as I got to the platform, and I found my seat. It was the first time for me to travel in a sleeper carriage, and it was surprisingly easy to sleep.
I was, regrettably, surrounded by men who made no effort to conceal their stares. So I did the only thing I know how to do in those situations - I started speaking Arabic in whispers, as if casting some spell, with the general intention that they'd think I was crazy - and it worked!
I had to go to the toilet countless times but in general I was able to sleep very well. In the morning the man in the bunk under me started talking on his phone. He must have made at least 40 phone calls. And he loved the sound of his voice. 'Alooooooooo' he would begin, really drawing out the 'o'. Then there was the man walking up and down the corridor screaming 'chai, chai, chai, chai'. Then we had 'Mr. I can't eat without sounding like I'm vomiting' eating right next to my ear. I was so angry the only thought in my head was to buy some bloody chai and pour it on both of their bald heads. BREATHE.
I needed to get out of the claustrophobic confine I was in so I decided to visit the toilet again. A man was blocking the door of the carriage because he was making the strangest noises over the sink. Another man was standing outside and snarling at me, chewing ferociously at a stick. I turned to go to the other toilet and found another man with his T-shirt rolled up to expose his huge belly, and he too was leering at me. I panicked, didn't know what to do, so I just ran back to my bed and hid under the covers.
Finally, two hours later than the ticket said, I arrived at Varanasi. And it was HOT! Much hotter than Delhi. Countless rickshaw drivers pounced on me, and I was still feeling a bit nauseous from the day before. For some reason, the first thought I said to myself on leaving the station was 'If you want to catch a disease, this is where you come!'. So many ill looking people were sprawled on the floor.
Varanasi is one of the holiest city in Hinduism and the city where Buddhism was founded. Hindus believe that if they die here they will be liberated from samsara (the continuous cycle of birth, life, death and re-birth) and attain moksha (liberation). So it's a city with a lot of sick people! And I haven't stopped scratching since I arrived!
I woke up yesterday with a horrible headache and stomach problems (I won't elaborate). I took the day off to stay in bed, so I missed the last day of my internship at an educational NGO called STIR education.
The way the railway system in India works, is that if you buy a ticket online you will probably go onto a waiting list. You therefore do not know whether you will actually travel or not until a dozen emails later as your seat status is continuously changed.
So an hour before the train was to depart, I checked my emails and, lo and behold, I've got a seat. Now I was secretly hoping to not have a seat because that meant I could stay in bed the whole weekend and get better. Strangely, I'm becoming lazier with this travelling melarchy, and I seem to want to stay in one place rather than see as much as I can.
So, I packed my bags quickly and my room mate gave me way too much of this herbal remedy - concentrated thyme oil. So, we all thought that I would die because my body started going red and blotchy, but luckily all was well.
I took a rickshaw to the train station, still not feeling great. The train arrived as soon as I got to the platform, and I found my seat. It was the first time for me to travel in a sleeper carriage, and it was surprisingly easy to sleep.
I was, regrettably, surrounded by men who made no effort to conceal their stares. So I did the only thing I know how to do in those situations - I started speaking Arabic in whispers, as if casting some spell, with the general intention that they'd think I was crazy - and it worked!
I had to go to the toilet countless times but in general I was able to sleep very well. In the morning the man in the bunk under me started talking on his phone. He must have made at least 40 phone calls. And he loved the sound of his voice. 'Alooooooooo' he would begin, really drawing out the 'o'. Then there was the man walking up and down the corridor screaming 'chai, chai, chai, chai'. Then we had 'Mr. I can't eat without sounding like I'm vomiting' eating right next to my ear. I was so angry the only thought in my head was to buy some bloody chai and pour it on both of their bald heads. BREATHE.
I needed to get out of the claustrophobic confine I was in so I decided to visit the toilet again. A man was blocking the door of the carriage because he was making the strangest noises over the sink. Another man was standing outside and snarling at me, chewing ferociously at a stick. I turned to go to the other toilet and found another man with his T-shirt rolled up to expose his huge belly, and he too was leering at me. I panicked, didn't know what to do, so I just ran back to my bed and hid under the covers.
Finally, two hours later than the ticket said, I arrived at Varanasi. And it was HOT! Much hotter than Delhi. Countless rickshaw drivers pounced on me, and I was still feeling a bit nauseous from the day before. For some reason, the first thought I said to myself on leaving the station was 'If you want to catch a disease, this is where you come!'. So many ill looking people were sprawled on the floor.
Varanasi is one of the holiest city in Hinduism and the city where Buddhism was founded. Hindus believe that if they die here they will be liberated from samsara (the continuous cycle of birth, life, death and re-birth) and attain moksha (liberation). So it's a city with a lot of sick people! And I haven't stopped scratching since I arrived!
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