Our first stop in India was Chennai. As if in anticipation, Kumudu instantly gets a bought of Delhi Belly. We are both surprised since we both thought I would be the one to suffer such a fate. This prophecy is later confirmed: over and over again...
Chennai was everything we expected: dirty and noisy. The drama of being stared at by locals starts as soon as we step on the plane from Colombo. However, it's not me they are looking at, but rather Kumudu. Apparently she is quite the celebrity in India. We suspect that the possibility of an 'Indian' being married to a white man so perplexes the locals and offends the sacred Vedas so much that they cannot look away. She is constantly and repeatedly asked whether she is an Indian, whether she speaks Hindi/Tamil/Bengali/Urdu etc. Revealing that, no, she is actually from Sri Lanka, is immaterial. Sri Lanka, it seems, is regarded as some obscure, little heard of province, in which the inhabitants speak some Indian dialect out-of-state, i.e. Hindi/Bengali/Tamil/Urdu etc. At one point I tell a vagrant who has accosted us, and is demanding to know where K is from, that she is actually South Korean and her name is Soon-Yi, and that - yes - all South Koreans look remarkably like Indians. Eventually we both go mad and pretend we are German tourists who don't even speak English.
We visit various sites in Chennai, including Marina Beach. An enormous beach that was devastated by the 2004 Tsunami (see picture). It is the highlight of our trip to Chennai. At a large Hindu kovil (temple) my shoes get filched by some reprobate. A true Indian welcome! (See picture below for image of missing shoes).
At Marina Beach, Chennai:
Next stop - Kolcatta (formerly Calcutta). Arrive at Chennai airport to discover two-bit flight has been cancelled. Immediately board another two-bit flight which has us arrive in Kolcatta late and tired. The Lonely Planet describes the CKT Inn as a real find that is 'tucked away in an office building'. Tucked away = concealed behind a dirty, homeless-person infested alley. Nonetheless, we soon come to realize that there is no such thing as a completely reputable place of abode in Kolcatta, nor India for that mater. K and I aim for 'mid range' venues with the notion that they would be: a) comfortable, but b) not to expensive. We find, however, that there is a very wide gap between 'budget' and 'mid-range' and you can neer guarentee that any of the places we lodge in will be anything resembling comfortable. We are satisfied, however, when we hear from other travelers that 'budget' is suitably horrific and that we are actually in a fairly pleasent little hole.
At the Victoria Memorial, Kolkatta:
A street near our hotel, Kolkatta:
Kolcatta is an old looking city, plied with yellow taxies and endless beggers. We have a great time exploring the dingy back streets, and the various cultural institutions. We skip Mother Theresa's house and head straight for the Victoria Memorial, the Kalighat and the Botanical Gardens. On our second day, as we head to our regular breakfast venue (called 'Flurry's), we are quickly accosted by a small leech-like begger boy whose desire to rob us of our money borders on assault. Demanding that we 'give him 10 rupee' he practically attacks us, touching our limbs and pushing us around the street! We manage to escape his clutches by escaping down a side alley while he is distracted. Later we visit the Asiatic Society. An interesting place for me since they have plenty of old Sanskrit texts, but the caretakers are plainly annoyed at the presence of any interlopers and give us plenty of evil looks as we potter around the dusty shelves. We also have to sign an implausible number of 'guest books' plainly designed to infuriate the guests such that they neer return and also tell their friends ot to visit. A brilliant plan!
Kumudu and I returning from Kalighat:
Kalighat, Kolkatta:
The best place in Kolkatta was the Kalighat - a temple dedicated to Kali. Kali is the goddess of blood and violence, and goats, buffaloes and chickens are routinely slaughtered at the temple in her honour. Kali is the savage aspect of Pavati, the consort of Shiva. She also represents his shakti or 'power' in Tantric hinduism. This explains why Kali becomes more popular the further north one gets - i.e. closer to the Nepal, the Himalayas and the Tantric schools. The temple is an interesting place, and we are assaulted by a myriad of guides one of whom we grudgingly pay for a tour (the problem with guides are: a) they always try and rip you off and b) you never know if they have any idea what they are talking about). In any case, we end up with a tikka each (or bindi in Singhala) which is meant to be both a ward and a blessing, a symbol of the ubiquitous 'third-eye'.
After we finish at Kolkatta, Kumudu and I arrange for a train to take us to the remote town of Gaya in the middle of the somewhat lawless state of Bihar. Regretably, many of the Buddhist sites we intend to visit are located in the middle of one of the most lawless states in India! Another Indian contradiction?
We arrange for a first class ticket to Gaya, naively thinking we would get a private cabin. Instead we have the privilege of hanging out with two Indian businessman and eating some train food of questionable merit. We arrive at Gaya in the dead of night, are knocked over by how freezing it is, and quickly requisition an all-terrain three-wheel that quickly drops us at our hotel - Vishnu International. The Vishnu International is a nice little place, i.e. clean, but has no hot water and a generator that wails all night long. A funny story about hot water: Whatever place we stay at, no matter what the staff may say, the hot water never ever works the way they say it will. The upshot of this is that the staff will insist that it works and spend a good 20 or 30 minutes hanging out in your bathroom turning the water on and off, before finally declaring 'No hot water!'. Our protests that they should simply bring us a bucket go unheard. This is the case for all the hotels we stayed at.
The following day we visit Bodhgaya - a half hour three wheel ride from Gaya. On the way we spot three dead dogs and several starving ones. It is also one of the filthiest towns we have seen, trash piled high everywhere. The place is quite remote and the locals seem disturbed at the prescence of outsiders. Nonetheless, the people are friendly and the townsfolk at Bodhgaya are more used to visitors. Bodhgaya is the site at which Buddha attained enlightenment. The Bo tree that the Buddha sat under is no longer there (destroyed by Queen Ashoka), but a replacement from the holy Mahabodhi in Sri Lanka now stands in its place. We witness several sudhas worship in the Tibetan style (which amuses me greatly) and walk around the beautiful grounds. Its funny that while everywhere else in India is grubby, the Buddhists at least manage to keep their sacred places clean.
The Mahabodhi Temple, Bodhgaya:
Goats eating a sari at Bodhgaya:
Once we finish at Bodhgaya we arrange for a car to take us out to the even more remote spot of Nalanda and Rajgir. The car arrangements are a fiasco in which we try to employ the aid of a local agency, only to discover they have no idea what they are doing. And in any case, the organizer has the manner of a serial killer so we quickly back out. Instead, Vishnu International supplies a vehicle. The cost is exhorbitant, and the driver incompetant, but it is much preferable to taking a dodgy local bus for two hours (we discover how right we were later when we are forced to take a local bus in Nepal - more on that later). As we leave Gaya destined for Rajgir, the driver stops to let in another passanger. Low and behold its the same fellow who attemped to organize our aborted plan the previous day! He's a sly looking fellow who insists that it is 'his car' and 'his driver needs someone to come back with'. We tell him to bugger off and leave him by the side of the road.
Rajgir is a barren piece of land in the middle of Bihar that is composed of a great deal of dry schist like land, and several messa-like hills that rise up in the distance. On one of these hills the Buddha preached several of his sermons including the important Brahma-gala Sutta. In order to get up the hill one takes a highly suspicious gondala that would be an OSH law-suit in the making in NZ. At the top is a marvelous stupa - A World Peace Pagoda (there are several such stupas around the world, all developed by the Japanese as part of their anti-nukes initiative). There was also a beautiful Tibetan temple. The whole place was very quite and quite serene. Another interesting feature of the area was the use of tongas - a tonga is a horse drawn cart which is used to ferry people around from here to there in a fairly cheap way. We had a great time clopping around the streets in these things, especially given how spread out the whole area was.
The next day we travelled to Nalanda. This required us to take a local bus for about 6 km. It was an interesting experience that involved several hair raising encounters with local traffic and lifestock. Once there, we took another tonga to the Nalanda ruins and had a great time looking amongst them. Nalanda is especially important to me since it is the site of the great Buddhist University where many of the most famous Buddhist philosophers were to live. Nagarjuna was, in fact, the director of the university for a time. Dharmakirti, Dignaga, Vasubandhu were all students there for a time. We had another guide at Nalanda who was very informative. Unfortunately, the place was populated by the most enormous wasps ever conceived: they were huge and yellow with a huge barb, and these long dangly legs. They completely freaked me out and whenever I saw one I gave it a very long berth.
It was also here that we bumped into Nick. We already met Nick at Bodhgaya while we had lunch. He introduced himself and sat down with us; he was an American who was right into his martial arts and Buddhism. He claimed he was in Mumbai teaching the Police force ninjitsu or some such rubbish. In any case, we bumped into him again at Rajgir AND Nalanda. He was an interesting character, but not someone I'd wish to spontaneously encounter three times. He was completely self absorbed and regarded himself as some kind of guru.
Kumudu at Nalanda ruins:
Me at the famous Nalanda ruins (the large structure is the remains of a stups):
Finally, the claim that Bihar is a lawless state was somewhat confirmed when we tried to leave Rajgir with the same driver a few days after we arrived. As we went to leave, he failed to stop at a tollbooth - on purpose obviously. The next thing we know, an overweight man is running after the car, screaming something in Hindi. Soon, the driver is being soundly beaten about the face by the man, causing him to look humiliated and angry. Obviously we are both scared witless, and the encounter is made more disconcerting by the crowd of children and adults that quickly flock around the car. Luckilly, the driver pays his due and we are soon on our way, but we are left with the distinct notion that vigilante justice reins supreme in Bihar.
