All hail to the porcelain throne, for never in our entire lives has it meant so much to us, as it did in the city of Varanasi. This city forced us into the realization that the porcelain throne was indeed – KING! We, like all other travelers, became obsessed not with finding porcelain kings, but rather trying to avoid them at all cost. Why? Because once one left ones hotel, there were no public restrooms and if you happened to find one, you instantly became sorry that you did. The porcelain thrones are…….DISGUSTING!!!! To give an example, I once had no choice but to use one at a restaurant. We had already ordered our food and were waiting on our meal. I won’t describe it, but all I know is that what I saw as so nauseating, that I immediately returned to our table, sat down and started to cry my heart out. This was my first of three mental breakdowns in India. Charles immediately ordered me an illegal beer (alcohol consumption is against the Hindu religion, but they will supply it to tourist ‘under the table’). “Drink it all down, dear”. I threw my head back and downed it, in a few gulps. I wanted a second one. The waiter asked if we could wait for about 10 minutes cause he had to put one in the fridge to get cold.

You have to understand that by the time I had this mental breakdown, we had been literally walking in cow and sometimes dog faeces for days. Try as you may, this could not be avoided because the cows roamed and did their business when and wherever they chose to. The faeces were not cleaned up because the cows were holy and what came from their bodies I guess was holy too. There were also open sewers and flies having a feast on its contents. We might as well have been putting on our swimsuits and diving into a pool of faeces. We might as well have been grabbing piles of it and putting it up our nose. We might as well have been taking off our flip flops and squishing it between our toes. We constantly felt dirty and there was no getting away from it. To top it off, you got tired of the noises, and dodging of cows, people and traffic.
At first I have to admit, I had an extremely difficult time eating in India. I would just go hungry for as long as I could in Varanasi…but when starvation hit, I would gulp down food like a crazy person. Besides once you got past the faeces, and general atmosphere, you could enjoy the fantastic food. In the end the only place we ate was at our hotel restaurant cause seemed the only place where we might not get the runs and again the food was magical.

Anyway take it from me, in India, you learn constipation is a blessing, diarrhea a curse. You find yourself having Diarrhea and Constipation conversations with complete strangers without any shame. Conversations go something like this –

“So, have you been using the bathroom?” No, I have been constipated for a about a week and a half now”. Oh really, well you know I have some charcoal pills here, they work very well”. “Really, well someone gave me some castor oil and it did the trick’. Wanna exchange some of my castor oil for your charcoal? “Sure, so tell me has it been coming out in small or large bits?” Oh it varies but most times……nothing or everything…never in between!!!!!” Hmmmm, so…… when are you heading back to New Zealand? ……..and so it goes…..

With all this though, the trip to Varanasi was worth it, if only to visit the Ghats. We loved waking up in the early mornings and heading out to the Ghats to catch the sunrise and see people give their morning offerings and prayers. With all the noises in India, do you know that at the Ghats it was always so quite? There is peacefulness at the Ghats and everyone is there for a purpose. From the hippies with flowers in their hair, to the Indians simply greeting each other and stopping for morning chats, I think in the pictures that we took you can see that mystical peacefulness coming through.
It does not seem surprising that Varanasi is known as the place in India ‘where people come to die’! It may seem like a morbid statement but this is true!! For centuries, thousands have landed in this city to spend their final days. It is believed that if a person dies in Varanasi—defined as the old city between the rivers Varuna and Assi—he will be redeemed of all sins by Lord Shiva on the cremation pyre.

So here it was that all day one is subject to viewing cremations as well as men carrying bodies wrapped in colored or white cloths down the winding and narrow lanes on homemade stretchers . I had viewed this scene many times on television and figured it would not faze me, but I must admit, there is something disconcerting about seeing death pass you at eye level at such regular intervals. I could not believe that these were really bodies!!! Charles and I never got to see this, but it is not uncommon to see a body floating down the water of the Ghanges.

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