India 2004 part 2: Hindu wannabes and penis yoga

Namaste. Last time I wrote, I was on my way to Varanasi - my favourite city in India. Two years ago, I stayed there for 1 month. This time, I did not have so much time. In this enchanting, but also very dirty town (the evidence that not only humans suffer from diarrhoea is frequently lying on the streets), it's good to stroll through the narrow alleys and streets and over the ghats. Many big bulls are found in the crowded streets, blocking the traffic by just sitting or standing around.

I saw 2 Hindu wannabes in my guesthouse. A guy from Utah, who looked like a white-washed sadhu, and a Japanese girl, complete with 3 white stripes (some Hindu thing) on her forehead and whom I even saw bathing in the heavily polluted Ganges (shit, burned and unburned human remains and everything else you can think about that is not good for your health).
I wonder what goes on in their minds, I really do, but I cannot understand it. They are the real freaks of India if you ask me, not the deformed beggars like the woman I saw in Mangalore, who was the size and shape of a basketball or other victims of inbreed or polio.

....after the rafting I went back to India, which was like stepping into a oven. The temperature had risen since I had left. I had to buy a train ticket; the hall was filled with long queues of impatient and restless people (including me). Sometimes people would skip the queue and go straight to the counter. This to the disapproval of many. You could feel the tension in the air and wondered when the Great railway ticket riots would start. Fortunately this didn't happen.

I spent some days in Varanasi (drinking bhang lassi), being struck by the overwhelming heat, and doing basically nothing. Sometimes there was a wind blowing but instead of cooling you down, it heated you up. It almost made me want to jump into the Ganges, but common sense stopped me from doing that.

Next on my agenda was the Kumb Mela in Ujian. A long time ago, the gods had a dispute over some nectar and dropped some of it on 4 places in India. Of course, these places became very holy and every few years, there is a big gathering of people taking a dip. In fact, it's the largest gathering in the world. 2 years ago 80 million (!!!) people came to Allahabad. Not at the same time, of course, but you can imagine the chaos.

Many sadhu's camp here. I don't know if you know what a sadhu is - in the western world they would be considered as unemployed dope-smokers - the Indians consider them holy men who can give them blessings (by putting ash on their heads and in their mouths) - and I consider them as people who want to smoke all my hashish.

I also met a "hanging baba" (a sadhu hanging in a kind of swing who hasn't sat or laid down for 4 years - God knows why), who wanted a gift from me (500 rupees). Another one wanted to change his camera for my digital one, and another went off with half of my friend’s hashish. They are interesting people and thought to be non-materialistic (except for when it comes to rupees, hashish and cameras I guess). I smoked some chillums with them, with the police standing just behind us and doing nothing about it. That was kind of surreal.

The nagababa's are especially interesting; they walk around naked and do a kind of yoga only men can do: penis-yoga. They role their dick around a stick and then turn the stick around like the propeller of a helicopter (don't try this at home kids), or hang I don't know how many kilo's off it. The trick is they have torn a muscle in their dick, which doesn’t allow them to get an erection (being celibate, they don't need to anyway - only when they decide to give up their celibate lifestyle they will have a problem), but it lets them do this Superman stuff with their dicks. So they are interesting, but when you're around some of them, you’d better watch your stuff.

I also stayed at the rainbow camp. Being there, I had the feeling I was in a Hair musical (except for the fact I don't have any). Before eating, we would all stand in a circle, holding hands and singing songs - Western people singing songs about Shiva. This went a bit too far, if you ask me. And being a hippie is okay with me, but where was the free love? I mean they let me stand in a circle holding hands (my right hand in the left hand of an Indian who doesn't use toilet paper, but indeed you guessed right (left actually) - and then I'm supposed to eat with that same right hand - thank God I'm left-handed) but when it came to the free love they stopped being hippies, these pseudo hippie Hindu characters.

So I left the camp and went to Ohm Kereshawar, an island in the shape of the Ohm symbol (if you have a lot of imagination, which many Indians have - why else would you touch the back of a cow believing this is good for your karma?), which was like a mini Varanasi without the cow-dung.
There was a fair and they had some cool attractions, like a mini train riding in mini circles, and also "the wheel of death", do you know this cylinder-shaped construction in which they defy the laws of gravity with a motorbike? They did this, but also with a car, which looked awesome. I also went on a Ferris wheel, which goes about 3 times the speed as a normal one and of which after every ride its bolts were checked and tightened. I didn't know if it was a good plan to go on it, but I survived.

From Ohm Kereshawar I went to Pachmarhi, a former hill-station of the British. At 1000 metres, this plateau is slightly less hot than the surrounding plains, and the views are superb. Many cliffs, canyons and hills, all covered by masses of green. One day I was walking next to a canyon, following a path. I had to climb up a bit on some rocks and suddenly I had a 360-degree view of this sea of green, with me standing on top of one of the waves.

I will surely go back to this place but for now, I'm eager to go to Thailand and rest on the beach, recovering from 4 months travelling in India. If you don't hear anything from me for a while, I will not be dead, just doing nothing.

bye

Kurt