The Ganges

I remember one time in college. I was walking across the campus through the snow falling at night. I remember the snow was already several feet deep on the ground and I was watching the lights catch it as it fell. Suddenly I came across two deer frozen and staring at me on my path. We looked at each other for a while, and I knew that I would always remember that moment, because it was so beautiful.

Yesterday I woke up on the train after very little sleep. We had stopped at a station (it was my fault, I talked everyone out of taking the express train because I was cheap) and there were children and men walking up and down the aisle shouting "Chai, Chai. Yes Madame, Chai?" (which is really annoying when it's six in the morning and seeming to happen at ten minute intervals). I turned over and looked out the window. The sun had just come up and I was getting my first real view of the Indian countryside. It was so green - rice fields spotted with banyan trees (and a tree with a white bark that I don't know). And I saw a small girl wearing a bright magenta dress climbing one of the trees. And it was just like the deer. I think I shall always remember it.

And I think I shall always remember the Ganges. My eyes have seen the Ganges. Can you believe it?

We came into Varanasi and I said, "Denise, wake up!" she jumped up and looked out the window and there was the Ganges. Brown and beautiful.

It many ways it's like an ordinary river - but there is something about it. Maybe the history - maybe the beauty of this place, but I find if captivating and beautiful, and I'm inexplicably drawn to it.

Our hotel is the best luck in the world. After winding through the tiny hot maze-like ancient streets, we came to this beautiful place with a big white balcony, filled with tables and plants that sits right on top of the river.

Last night Denise, Salyuri and I ate dinner and watched as people sent candles down the darkened waters. It looked like stars.

This morning we rose before dawn, Marion too (but shane slept I guess -he's another new zealander we picked up along the way - and he has curly hobbit hair!) and we went down to the river and got in a row boat and watched the sun rise from the middle of the river. I sent flowers down for my loved ones and lit a candle for my health (which immediately capsized. Hmmm)

And my health is what I complain of now. I think the train ride did me in - I'm terribly sick still, and frustrated. It seems to be my lot in life - to be ill, and today I am not gracious about it.

I think a lot of it had to do with dehydration and lack of food. I've had no appetite since I've been sick, and most days eat just a piece of bread or something pathetic like that. I was so weak and dizzy by yesterday I felt like death and started crying. Denise - thank god for people with common sense - sat down next to me and rubbed my back and said in her Irish accent, "this not eating of yours isn't going to work. I'm going to go buy you some fruit and you're going to need to eat it." So she left and I sat on my bed and I cried and I cried and I cried.

And I said to myself, Kate, why are you crying?

And I answered myself, removed, because I'm so so tired. And I don't want to be sick. And I'm terribly terribly far from home - and all I can think about is home. And yet I'm here, in the most peaceful beautiful place. And I am crying because I don't think I'm the same person I was. And I'm crying because in these past few weeks I have seen so much poverty and so much suffering and I'm not sure how to take it all in. I'm not sure if my heart can take it. Sometimes I feel like it might break against my ribs. And I'm crying because my heart is already broken and I'm not sure it will mend. And I'm crying because it is so beautiful. And I'm crying because I am sad. And I think, it is good to cry when you are sad.

And then I was done, and they brought me fruit and I ate tomato soup and watched the sea of stars float down the river.

Sometimes I think India is too much for me. It's both beautiful and miserable all together - a bit manic-depressive, I suppose, and I can't seem to find my balance.

And then there's the fever. I woke up again so hot last night. I couldn't sleep, and so scared because I couldn't get my body to cool down, and it's so dark. And sometimes. Often, I am afraid of the dark. I woke Marion up. She's a nurse and she took my pulse and felt my head and gave me tylenol and a cool clothe to put on my wrists and my forehead. The next morning she hugged me and said "I prayed for you so many times last night." Which is funny. Marion and I were talking over beers a week ago and she was talking about religion. She said she doesn't particularly perscribe to a faith, but ever since she came to India, she's started praying. She isn't sure to what, but as she is sitting with the desperately ill and dying people at Prem Dan (another Mother Teresa house like Kalighat - only bigger) she often isn't sure what to do, and has found herself praying. And she thinks maybe that's why India is such a spiritual place. Because over and over again you are left with nothing else to do, but to pray.


Anyways. Denise and I are talking about changing our ticket to go to Agra and see the Taj Mahal before heading back to Calcutta. Most of me wants to because we are so close. But it is miserable to travel when sick and sleep when you can't breathe. And I'm a bit overwhelmed right now. But we're so close...

So I think I will go sit by the Ganges and think about it. I am completely captivated and enchanted by this place. I despise this place. I love this place.