RISHIKESH DAYS, PART 1: Feb 21st and 22nd

FEB. 21st, Friday, SHIVARATRI! One of the most auspicious days in India...Honoring Shiva

AND....MONSOON COMES PREMATURELY TO RISHIKESH?!?

I am not kidding.

Rainy season is technically not for another 4 months at least, but then global warming has eliminated all of those long-standing norms, as we all know and experience.

Of course it is said that, on an important holiday honoring any deity, it is considered VERY auspicious if it rains. I am not quite sure WHY this should be the case, but this belief is evidently widespread in India.

I was worried about the neighboring cow lowing all night last night, as it had been doing for most of the afternoon yesterday. I needn’t have worried--either it got milked, had it’s baby (since, as mentioned, calves are unusually prolific in my little neighborhood here), or who-knows-what, but it got quiet. Bless that cow. HOWEVER! No sooner was I drifting off to sleep while listening to yet another entertaining bit of Bill Bryson, when there was a loud, most startling BOOM! I thought perhaps it was a fire cracker, and that celebrations for Shivaratri had begun a night early. But when flashes of lightning started lighting up my room through the closed curtains, I realized it was thunder--one of the most impressively LOUD claps of thunder I have EVER heard!!! It was soon followed by monsoon-like rain, drumming cheerfully on the metal stairs that lead to roof outside of our rooms. Lovely.

Trying not to despair, I once again donned my ear protectors over my ear plugs. Happily--and presumably because I was SO exhausted after so little sleep the night before--I DID manage to fall asleep, and in fact slept quite well, dreaming of escaping aquarium fishes. Yes indeedy, it was somehow MY fault the little buggers escaped, and I seem to have spent the entire night trying to find and capture the slippery creatures so that they could be returned to their watery, man-made home.

I have awakened this morning pleasantly refreshed, to the lovely sound of rain pummeling the tin roof and nearby stairs. Owing to the sound of water falling and my usual habit of drinking water every time I awake in the night, I urgently needed the toilet. Alas! The ONLY toilet/shower combo in this household appears to be the one on our terrace! I could hear the happy sloshing of quantities of water through the closed and locked door. Why couldn’t this person simply have stood out in the amply falling rain and saved water?!

Before I resorted to peeing in a cup or onto the wet rooftop, the grandfather of the household thankfully vacated the shower room and I could relieve myself. And WHAT a relief, indeed!

Now, this brings me to yet another delightfully idiosyncratic, noteworthy item about Indian culture: in every class of home I have seen, the toilet frequently shares the same room as the shower. This means that, whenever one has simply to use the TOILET, one must remove both shoes and socks and walk barefoot--or in flip flops--into the room to do one’s business. In my case, I don’t HAVE flip flops, and the ones they provided me with yesterday eve have strangely disappeared. So I have to resort to walking barefoot into the bathroom. This means that I now have to return to my own room with wet feet! What to DO about these wet feet?! I don’t want to use my bath towel on feet that have just been to the toilet and tromped across the dusty terrace rooftop. So my only recourse is to dry them on the rug in the room, which kinda defeats the purpose of always removing SHOES before coming into the room in order to keep the floor and rugs clean. Go figure! (Do I wind up saying this a LOT here?! Yes, I do!)

Getting back to the shower itself: I can never quite figure out why there is both a large bucket or two sitting by, or under, the shower-head itself. Why bathe with the buckets if you have an actual shower?! I guess I need to ask this of a host, which I have yet to do. Furthermore, in this particular home, My young host, Amit, informed me that one of the taps DOES produce hot water (after you turn on the switch--presuming you can figure out WHICH switch amongst many--that starts the hot-water-on-demand tank heating up. I have forgotten to do this on numerous occasions, of course, and taken plenty of cold showers!) HOWEVER! This hot water will ONLY flow downhill into a bucket, but will NOT make the arduous journey UPHILL through the pipes and into the actual shower!

So I am puzzling how this might work: You either do just a bucket bath, mixing hot and cold water into the bucket, or you do the bucket bath first, then refresh yourself by turning on the shower of only cold water. Hmmm.

In spite of my fascination with this whole set up, I am not truly concerned about the shower this morning, No, my friends, I am much MORE dismayed about my thwarted plans to do LAUNDRY today. For, you see, NO one that I have known in India thus far has a dryer. If affluent or even middle class, they will definitely have a washer. But, as with many European households I have known, clothes must be hung up on a clothesline to dry. Yesterday, when all the way up on the highest part of the roof, I was VERY pleased to note the ample clothesline, stretching across the entirety of the roof. This is not always the case, and I have had to get VERY creative when it comes to how to dry my clothes: draped over closet doors (if there IS a closet); the backs of chairs; from the ceiling fan and so forth.

Of course you already know what is coming: the clothesline is not the issue in THIS case, the RAIN is!!!! How the heck am I supposed to dry my clothes after I wash them?! And I desperately need to do a laundry. A big one. I am down to one clean shirt and only one pair of clean undies. NO clean socks, but I figured I would wear yesterday’s pair today. Furthermore, there is NO closet, no hangers (I have already explained that both these items are a rarity, though I was fortunate to have them in my lovely Delhi Airbnb), and only one plastic chair in the room. I guess it will have to be the curtain rod. Thank God there is at least that! And clearly I will have to limit the washing to a small handful of items.

8 a.m.: Though still quite early by Indian standards, (it is at last wonderfully quiet outside! I hear only the chirping of birds, the rain, and an occasional motorized sound far off in the distance) it is late by mine and I’ve much to do: try to find my young host, Amit, so I can retrieve my last piece of papaya from the fridge downstairs; do my handful of laundry; get the charger for the portable internet hotspot device Amit provided me with, which has subsequently died; once the internet is hopefully restored, check to see if it is really true that Charles Schwab is refunding me the ATM charges for withdrawing money from machines here (15,000 rupees thus far); get this blog posted; eat an orange; struggle to find the light switches; try to figure out if I really have to walk 15 minutes to find a rickshaw in the rain (I DID at least bring rain gear, thank God! Unused up to this point) in order to go to the westernized part of town; and finally, if I CAN’T make it over to the westernized part of town (home of the famed Yoga schools, good, healthy food and myriad ashrams) to buy decent, wholesome food, decide how to parcel out my remaining fruit for a long day of fruit fasting.

So... onward with the joys, fascinations and challenges of the day!

NOTE: Amit just told me that it rains EVERY year for Shivaratri, that it is not surprising at all, just a given! Can this be true?? Now, 9:15 a.m., the town is coming alive, Amit has already been to the temple for worship and returned...I can hear bells and some distant chanting. Time to get hopping and go! But first, some photos...the air is clearing and I can now see the beautiful foothills!!!!

10 a.m.: BREAKFAST HORROR! (no, I am not fasting!)

I was just served up breakfast--this IS a bed AND breakfast, apparently, Indian style--and while I was anticipating either some delectable omelet (yes, you guessed it, i have given up on being a vegan here…. just impossible!) or poha (a delicious sort of breakfast-ish rolled rice), I was most UNpleasantly surprised to lift the cover of my decorative dish and find a huge, steaming bowl of macaroni! Spicy Indian style, of course. MORE carbs, and thoroughly EMPTY carbs, at that!!! I imagine this was served because, as in the U.S., it is plentiful and ridiculously cheap. But when, and HOW, did this sort of “rubbish” (as the Brits would say), masquerading as actual food, creep its way into the INDIAN diet?!?! I couldn’t have been more appalled.

Amongst all the skinny, happy Indians here, I am growing fatter and more bloated each day! I managed to pick out the truly minuscule--in fact, barely visible--bits of broccoli, onion, mushroom and peas, took a few bites of the pasta, then shoved it away in disgust. I thought about flushing it down the toilet--it would be an insult not to eat every morsel--but then thought better of it. There surely must be some hungry cow on the streets I can give this to. Thankfully, I have a small Tupperware container I brought with me from the U.S., perfect for just such a purpose!

Along with this horrid macaroni dish was some very black tea. That, at least, I can pour down the sink!

And now, I am reaching for some serious sustenance in the form of a few nuts, seeds and raisins which I have been carefully rationing out to myself since I purchased them in Pune a few days ago.

The bloat remains, but I can at least feel that I have eaten something with some redeeming, actual nutritive value to it!

4:00 p.m.: I am just returning from the Indian version of a street carnival. It is a holiday today because of it being the day of honoring Shiva. Nonetheless, amidst all the vendors selling the most spectacular assortment of worthless junk that I've ever seen anywhere, I could not see what any of this even remotely had to do with Shiva! Is this a tragic indication that--in the same way in which the rest of the world has commercialized Christmas and other holidays--the Indians have also done this with one of the most sacred days of the entire year?!

After elbowing my way through the incredible throngs, wading through puddles and mud and desperately in search of something that remotely had to do with this auspicious day, I was at last heartened to see a vendor with banners of lovely pictures of Shiva. There were glasses of some kind of greenish liquid lined up on a table. Plus, bowls of what looked like ground up coconut and other stuff. When I walked up to this guy and told him how happy I was to see a vendor that looked like he actually had something to do with Shiva, I was horrified to then learn that this stand was giving out prasad (sanscrit name of a sacred food offering) in the form of marijuana juice!!. Yes friends, I kid you not. This, evidently, is the most sacred thing about honoring the day of Shiva... drinking pot water and undoubtedly getting stoned out of one's bloody mind! Wow. Of course I politely declined the offering. Besides not having touched the stuff in some 40 odd years and having no inclination to start now, I can only begin to imagine the horrible diseases one might contract by drinking from glasses shared by thousands of others.

I had had enough of blaring horns, gooey, sticky, (supposedly edible) substances being sold in mounds here and the difficulty of moving anywhere at all without teetering on the brink of some hideous mud puddle. I was thus just about to head for home when I spotted the one and only redeeming aspect of this whole, utterly appalling, scene. It was the sight of a vegetable vendor. The vegetables were arranged in a neat display, boasting a great variety of enticing colors, shapes and freshness. It short, it was a joy to behold! I was drawn as if by a magnet to this enticing spread. I was the only customer there. I picked and chose a nice assortment of the veggies and, humming a tune in praise of Shiva, headed for home.

Amazingly, this huge mound of fresh veggies cost me only 70 rupees, or exactly $1.00! Not organic, true, but still the best bargain to be found anywhere! I made myself a hearty soup with them once back home.

Later that eve: The night turned out fantastically. Even though I was initially quite appalled when my host's mother (don't know her name, AND she doesn't speak any English!) guided me back to that horrific, crowded and muddy carnival scene, it soon became evident that she was leading me to exactly where I had wanted to go this night: to the town's Shiva temple. Here, I was certain, the truly devotional people would be found. And it was true! We joined a huge line of folks waiting to get inside, where we then paid homage to the Shiva Lingam, received prasad (a little square of a milk sweet) and exited. Just outside, in the square surrounding the temple, some young people were dancing to some loud, pop-sounding Hindi music (hopefully in praise of Shiva!) I was automatically drawn into this group, and became an instant sensation!

Understand that this is a part of town that is FAR away from the multitudes of western and Indian tourists, yoga schools and ashrams. These are the locals, just living their simple, humble lives. When they glimpse a white face in their midst, they gawk, then smile, then are inspired to try their hand at speaking their broken bits of English. Typically, this includes the phrases, "Hello, how are you?!" and, "Where are you from?" But has also occasionally prompted such surprising utterances as, "I love you"! And, indicating their young male buddies: "He is a naughty boy!" Of course all of these phrases are followed by gales of laughter, as if these encounters are the funniest in the world! The laughter is infectious and I laugh along with them. Then, good-naturedly, I go along with being dragged into photos with husbands, wives, kids or just by myself. There are also the requisite selfies and video footage. It is hilarious!

Unfortunately, I forgot my phone this eve, so was unable to do any of my own recording. As such, I simply settled into the experience of it all, and enjoyed myself immensely. (All photos below from prior to the evening's adventure.)

This group of 4 boys was the most charming I have encountered; all live a few houses away from where I am staying.

A selfie with a cute neighborhood boy on a bike two sizes too big for him!

More selfies with neighborhood kids

Yours truly with Amit's sister and baby. Was invited to have chai with them in the guest house after returning from my adventure of the street carnival.

Paying my respects to Shiva in the family meditation room, adjacent to my guest room

Also paying my respects to the herd of street cows just outside: they represent the Goddess Earth Mother! How I adore them!

Lovely sunset as seen on my way home from the carnival, as it was clouding up again.

The following are the various carnival scenes...

I was astounded to see this huge pile of tooth brushes and hair bands on a cart. Despite how thoroughly unhygienic--not to mention, what a bizarre item to be sold at a carnival!--people were scooping these up by the handful. And...why would hair bands and toothbrushes even GO together?! If we are on the subject of brushing ANYTHING, then why not have hair BRUSHES and tooth brushes together?! What's more, the vendor objected vehemently to my photographing this scene. Why??? Did he think that he had a patent on selling piles of cheap toothbrushes from a cart?! Was he afraid I would duplicate the idea and deviously create my own cart to rival his?! Did he think this such a personal and intimate scene that it would desecrated by being shared with the general public?! Who can possibly fathom his thinking?!

And boy, did this guy ever clean up!!!

Gaudy, tacky junk... but boy, was it ever popular, bought up by the masses!

Poster of Shiva--only one of the two versions I saw of the deity at this festival--adjacent to the marijuana juice stands!

Traipsing through vast puddles... I was amazed to see Indian women in dressy slippers and sarees!

Marijuana juice/prasad stand...but doesn't it look ever so holy?!

massive quantities of some sort of fruit--no clue what this is! they were also given out as prasad in my little neighborhood temple.

muddy puddles were by no means a deterrent when it came to buying this shlocky stuff!

Yes, even the requisite Ferris wheel, very popular, at this carnival!

Adults and kids--even babies--enjoying themselves at this crowded event...though this little tyke didn't exactly look thrilled!

Meanwhile, the cows clean up the garbage....yech!

Forgot to mention that--per my request--I was served a home made lunch that included my absolute favorite green here--methi. In the West, we know it as fenugreek. In India, it is traditionally cooked with garlic, has a wonderfully astringent taste (a little like arugula), and just has to be incredibly healthy! I am loving this dish, of course! The whole meal was quite satisfying, although as you can see, I was given enough rice for four people! I ate a small amount of this rice before--you guessed it!--giving the rest to a street cow.

View of the mountains from the roof top after the morning rain

I love these frequent misspellings one sees on the streets! This was a storefront I passed on my way back from the carnival.

Neighborhood Shiva temple--went here first this morning, before the carnival

Shiva Lingam, one of the very prominent expressions of Shiva--not quite sure WHY it symbolizes SHIVA, but it can be seen everywhere in Shiva temples, as common as the actual blue God himself