Mathura, India (Apr.1-2)
I arrived at the guest house and there was just one old man there who didn't speak any english. He managed to figure out that I needed a room so I followed him up the stairs. The centre part of the roof was all open as many of the guest houses are and the lock was the usual slider with a padlock. When I got to the room, I went in to put my stuff down and he kept standing at the door and trying to tell me something. "I'll pay in a second when I come back downstairs," I said to him. "No," he said pointing to the hanging padlock and then up through the open roof "monkey!" I smiled and pulled the padlock inside the room, and he went back downstairs.
I just had plans to visit one temple in Mathura, so I decided to walk there and explore the shops along the way. The streets were the typical third-world insanity that hardly phases me anymore: narrow pathways with shops spilling out into the streets, motorcycles and rickshaws driving on a side of the road that appears to be optional, masses of people jammed into the spaces in between, and everything trying to maneuver around the cows standing or lying everywhere. Rather than following road rules, Indians just honk constantly as a means of safety. On the back of many of the cars it says, "honk please."
I bought a copper bracelet from this one old man and he invited me into his shop for some chai. He didn't speak a word of english, just kept saying things in Hindi and then laughing when I shook my head that I didn't understand.
Everywhere I went in Mathura, people were constantly warning me about the monkeys and telling me to put my sunglasses and camera away. I didn't take the threat that seriously, but I held on tight to my camera anyways.
A few minutes down the road, another man pulled me into his shop for some chai. His name was Mohan and he actually spoke some english. He was saying that he knew astology and palm reading or something, so I told him I was aquarius and asked him what he could tell me. "Your future is very golden." I knew it.
After some delicious street food with Mohan, I headed down the road and after a lot of misdirection and wandering in circles and some delicious street food, I finally found the temple, just in time for prayers.
There was one lineup for males and one for females where they did a security check and made everyone leave their bags and electronics. Shoes were left at the next station.
Inside the temple was basically a complex with a large open space in the middle and buildings dotted all around the edges. I walked to the first one, which looked like the cave entrance to a theme park ride. That prediction actually wasn't too far off. It was a long and winding tunnel with periodic plexi-glass windows revealing elaborate sculptures depicting Krishna's life. It felt more like a ride at Disney World than a place of worship.
When I came out of the tunnel, I joined the procession of worshippers heading through the different buildings in the complex. Each building had an elaborate sculpture of one or more gods, covered in jewels, shiny fabrics, and flowers. Worshipers would pray to the god and then walk in a circle around the altar. In front of each god and periodically all over the temple complex were boxes placed for donations. People would also give gifts to the gods like flowers or beads. In between all of the temples, the outside walls were lined with shops containing the most agressive sales men I have ever encountered. Every one would literally scream at you constantly as you walked by until you were out of earshot, begging you to come in.
I tried to acquire a positive view of this religion, especially after they so kindly welcomed me in to their place of worship, but it was so against everything I know about religion. Watching them kneel in front of those elaborately dressed sculptures reminded me of Moses' anger at the worshiping of the golden bull. And the agressive sales men reminded me of the way Jesus turned over the tables of the shop keepers in the synagogue. I am not exactly the most religious person or most avid Catholic, but I have trouble with religion being turned into a place so focused on money. Even the places that hold the shoes for you often charge a fee and if you accidentally leave them somewhere else, they will sweep them aside and they often get stolen. Not exactly the kind of behaviour you expect in a house of worship. Despite my reservations on the Hindu faith, it is certainly one where they don't have to bribe their children to go to church with tim bits and polly pockets like I was.
On my way back, I dropped in on Mohan for some chai and he told me more about how golden and bright my future is. Then I hurried to the river for sunset because I wanted to see the candle lighting ceremony that I heard about. By the time I got there it was after dark, but there were still a few candles left burning in the river.
Despite the thick mosquitos, I couldn't resist going for a late night boat ride on the lake. I floated down the river amoung the candles, listening to the music echoing from the Hindu temples, and watching the monkeys jump across the rooftops in what was probably the most romantic date of my life, with the random Indian boat rower.
I hurried home through the dark streets to find a giant cockroach in my bathroom. Good to know I won't have to miss them while I am in India.
The next day I went to Vrindavan, which from my experience was just kind of a boring shit-hole. I got to visit one temple before they shut them all down from 12-4pm. There was a baba (like a priest) who spoke about three words in English that showed me around the temple and I still don't know whether he was being creepy or not. When you experience these extreme cultural differences, it is honestly sometimes really hard to tell. He actually kissed my cheek at one point. Either way, he was nice, showed me around the temple, and gave me a flower necklace and these weird sugar balls to eat. Before I left he got his friend to take a picture of us on his phone.
I headed back to Mathura and got some more street food, which I had been eating pretty much exclusively for the two days I was there. In my last few hours in Mathura, I was standing my the water and felt someone agressively grab me and kind of hit me from behind. I turned around to see who it was and realized that a monkey had jumped on me to grab my flower necklace. I guess I should have seen that one coming.
Back at my guest house, I hopped on a rickshaw and headed back to the bus station. On the way, I passed by a group of children playing with about 4 needles. It took me a second to process what I saw, but eventually I yelled at my driver to stop and ran back while screaming at the kids to drop them. I don't think they understood english, but they definitely seemed to understand what my screaming and pointing was about. One kid hid it behind his back, but I eventually got him to drop it as well. I could see two men sitting in a neighbouring house, who I presume were the parents. When I told them what happened, they laughed and one of them begrudgingly got up and came out. I am not sure what is funny about your children playing with dirty syringes, but I wasn't in the mood to stay and find out.
I wasn't on the bus for very long before I started to feel the effects of two days of street food. I may have gotten a little too excited about Indian food after Africa and probably could have paced myself a little better. I just prayed that I would make it to Delhi.
I arrived at the guest house and there was just one old man there who didn't speak any english. He managed to figure out that I needed a room so I followed him up the stairs. The centre part of the roof was all open as many of the guest houses are and the lock was the usual slider with a padlock. When I got to the room, I went in to put my stuff down and he kept standing at the door and trying to tell me something. "I'll pay in a second when I come back downstairs," I said to him. "No," he said pointing to the hanging padlock and then up through the open roof "monkey!" I smiled and pulled the padlock inside the room, and he went back downstairs.
I just had plans to visit one temple in Mathura, so I decided to walk there and explore the shops along the way. The streets were the typical third-world insanity that hardly phases me anymore: narrow pathways with shops spilling out into the streets, motorcycles and rickshaws driving on a side of the road that appears to be optional, masses of people jammed into the spaces in between, and everything trying to maneuver around the cows standing or lying everywhere. Rather than following road rules, Indians just honk constantly as a means of safety. On the back of many of the cars it says, "honk please."
A few minutes down the road, another man pulled me into his shop for some chai. His name was Mohan and he actually spoke some english. He was saying that he knew astology and palm reading or something, so I told him I was aquarius and asked him what he could tell me. "Your future is very golden." I knew it.
There was one lineup for males and one for females where they did a security check and made everyone leave their bags and electronics. Shoes were left at the next station.
Inside the temple was basically a complex with a large open space in the middle and buildings dotted all around the edges. I walked to the first one, which looked like the cave entrance to a theme park ride. That prediction actually wasn't too far off. It was a long and winding tunnel with periodic plexi-glass windows revealing elaborate sculptures depicting Krishna's life. It felt more like a ride at Disney World than a place of worship.
When I came out of the tunnel, I joined the procession of worshippers heading through the different buildings in the complex. Each building had an elaborate sculpture of one or more gods, covered in jewels, shiny fabrics, and flowers. Worshipers would pray to the god and then walk in a circle around the altar. In front of each god and periodically all over the temple complex were boxes placed for donations. People would also give gifts to the gods like flowers or beads. In between all of the temples, the outside walls were lined with shops containing the most agressive sales men I have ever encountered. Every one would literally scream at you constantly as you walked by until you were out of earshot, begging you to come in.
I tried to acquire a positive view of this religion, especially after they so kindly welcomed me in to their place of worship, but it was so against everything I know about religion. Watching them kneel in front of those elaborately dressed sculptures reminded me of Moses' anger at the worshiping of the golden bull. And the agressive sales men reminded me of the way Jesus turned over the tables of the shop keepers in the synagogue. I am not exactly the most religious person or most avid Catholic, but I have trouble with religion being turned into a place so focused on money. Even the places that hold the shoes for you often charge a fee and if you accidentally leave them somewhere else, they will sweep them aside and they often get stolen. Not exactly the kind of behaviour you expect in a house of worship. Despite my reservations on the Hindu faith, it is certainly one where they don't have to bribe their children to go to church with tim bits and polly pockets like I was.
On my way back, I dropped in on Mohan for some chai and he told me more about how golden and bright my future is. Then I hurried to the river for sunset because I wanted to see the candle lighting ceremony that I heard about. By the time I got there it was after dark, but there were still a few candles left burning in the river.
Despite the thick mosquitos, I couldn't resist going for a late night boat ride on the lake. I floated down the river amoung the candles, listening to the music echoing from the Hindu temples, and watching the monkeys jump across the rooftops in what was probably the most romantic date of my life, with the random Indian boat rower.
The next day I went to Vrindavan, which from my experience was just kind of a boring shit-hole. I got to visit one temple before they shut them all down from 12-4pm. There was a baba (like a priest) who spoke about three words in English that showed me around the temple and I still don't know whether he was being creepy or not. When you experience these extreme cultural differences, it is honestly sometimes really hard to tell. He actually kissed my cheek at one point. Either way, he was nice, showed me around the temple, and gave me a flower necklace and these weird sugar balls to eat. Before I left he got his friend to take a picture of us on his phone.
I headed back to Mathura and got some more street food, which I had been eating pretty much exclusively for the two days I was there. In my last few hours in Mathura, I was standing my the water and felt someone agressively grab me and kind of hit me from behind. I turned around to see who it was and realized that a monkey had jumped on me to grab my flower necklace. I guess I should have seen that one coming.
Back at my guest house, I hopped on a rickshaw and headed back to the bus station. On the way, I passed by a group of children playing with about 4 needles. It took me a second to process what I saw, but eventually I yelled at my driver to stop and ran back while screaming at the kids to drop them. I don't think they understood english, but they definitely seemed to understand what my screaming and pointing was about. One kid hid it behind his back, but I eventually got him to drop it as well. I could see two men sitting in a neighbouring house, who I presume were the parents. When I told them what happened, they laughed and one of them begrudgingly got up and came out. I am not sure what is funny about your children playing with dirty syringes, but I wasn't in the mood to stay and find out.
I wasn't on the bus for very long before I started to feel the effects of two days of street food. I may have gotten a little too excited about Indian food after Africa and probably could have paced myself a little better. I just prayed that I would make it to Delhi.
Please tell me the sugarballs were Pulab Juab They are the best... Like timbits except made with milk :)
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