Thoughts from Varanasi

Wow. My mind is swirling round in a whirl-pool; I'm not sure it's in a fit state to be spilling itself into the blogosphere. I'll give it a go, but will be very brief because the poet of psycho-femi-theo-blogopoet is very low on energy.

• I left the mountains because I had itchy feet. I went to Amritza to see the Sikh Golden Temple. It was spectacular. When I get into a decent internet cafe, I'll upload a photo. What hit me more powerfully, though, was the memorial park. In it, thousands of civilian Indians were shot at by the British soldiers. Hundreds were killed. This masacre was in the name of revolution-quelling. I'm inspired to read a biography of Gandhi. Can anyone recommend one?
  
• Celebrity status. Leaving tourist-infested Dharamsala, I, a white person, quickly became a thing of a rarity. As I head further to the Pakistan border, more and more people shook my hand and asked me how I am, and whether I'm married. By the time I was 2 hours from it, a group of university students had dragged me into their cabin, and were quizzing me and laughing with me and pointing at my eyebrow piercing. They were fascinated. People from the rest of the carriage were crouding round to hear me tell about England and psychology and the rest of my trip. This ego-boosting took a turn for the worse in the Sikh temple. Many people go there as pilgrims, from rural parts of India seldom-visited by Westerners. They were asking for my autograph, getting photographs of me, or just plain staring. I never felt so watched as I ate my chapatti and dahl from the free kitchen. I left a.s.a.p. because it began to overwhelm me. It was getting impossible to spend any time without feeling watched.
  
• 24 hours' train journey (cost about £6) later, I find myself in Varanasi. The Ganga (Ganges) is spectacular. Tomorrow, at sunrise, I hope to get on a boat and see it properly. Photos to follow.
  

I feel that there are multitudinous (I can't believe I just used that word. Bet I spelled it wrong.) streams of stimulation pouring into me. So many lessons being learned, so much to take in. I want to share all in great detail, but for fear of boring and lack of internet cafe time left, will sketch with words:

• POVERTY. I find myself walking along hapily and then suddenly close to tears because of what I see here. I don't need to tell you how poor the working classes of India are. But I will. Painfully poor. What am I doing about this? Will a few rupees bakshish aleviate my consciounce? No.
  
• Being firm. Unlike Tibetan Dharmasala, people try to massively rip me off and will not stop bothering me, unless I am very very firm. Today I actually told somebody to go away because he wouldn't leave me alone. This is new territory.
  
• Community. I am quickly tiring of 2 hour relationships that end when I don't hand over several hundred rupees. If it needed saying, life is hollow without relationships.
  
• Beauty. In the midst of suffering and envy and cheating, there is beauty in the landscape and beauty in the people. One of the only meaningful conversations I had with a local led me to hear how very very poor he was, but how he was happy because of his simple life and family and friends. We have a lot to learn from these people.
  
• Massage on the main ghat. Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.
  

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