Kolkata you ain't as bad as you look.

At first glance Kolkata looks like hell on Earth, the wildest display of humanity you could ever imagine. In Kolkata privacy is not an option. People are eating sleeping, defecating, and essentially living out in the open, on the side of the streets. Life is not hidden in doors but happens all around you whether you like it or not. Kolkata is as in your face as it gets. The poverty, the crime, the drug use, the good, the bad, and the ugly spills out onto the streets. Everywhere you look there are beggars, insane taxi drivers, make-shift shanty towns and anything else you can imagine. To one side you see a vendor making lassis next to him a cobbler fixing shoes and then across the way a barber cutting hair on the sidewalk and a "dentist" cleaning teeth on stool outside a restaurant. The city is bursting with energy and chaos. Crossing the street in this hectic city without a scratch is a major feat. The traffic, the noise, the regular power outages and the horrendous smell of human feces all add to the persona of this old British Colonial Capital. This is the city of Mother Teresa, The Victoria Memorial and more professional beggars than you ever thought possible. But beyond all that squalor is a vibrant city full of colonial charm and metropolitan conveniences.Kolkata is a diamond in the rough mostly because of the Bengali people. They are by far the most genuine and hospitable people you will encounter in India. Our first night arriving in Kolkata an Indian man from Kolkata helped us get from the train station and into a taxi going to our guesthouse, it was completely unexpected and appreciated. Kolkata is a city that keeps on surprising you with its unexpected character and warmth.The longer you stay in one place in India the more you begin to become to understand all the madness and you stop just being part of the scenery. Kolkata made me a true fan of India as a country and made me realized the Indian people are what keep travelers back again and again despite everything else.

Burning Bodies

If you are a Hindu lucky enough to die in Varanasi, and be cremated by the holy Ganges, it is believed that you will go straight to Nirvana. Ideally, your soul will be released from the reincarnation cycle and be sent to Nirvana where life is eternal bliss. This is the ultimate goal of Hinduism, reaching Nirvana. Varanasi, the sight of the holiest stretch of the Ganges, is an orchestra of sights and sounds, mostly having to do with Hinduism and death. Many of the buildings near the ghats (steps leading to the river) in this ancient city are used as hospices to house those who are waiting to die and be cremated in a holy ceremony. Although this city is haunted by death and the dying it is not morbid or depressing, just plain bizarre. Walking through the corroding alley ways you will most certainly bump into your fair share of sacred cows, motor bikes, vendors, and families carrying the covered body of a deceased loved one down to the "burning ghat." The burning ghats are funeral pyres stationed near the water and the most surreal aspect of Varanasi. At the burning ghats bodies are placed on pyres made of wood and burned for 3 hours before their remains are then placed in the Ganges. Watching the burning ghats made me feel as if I had stepped back in time to the Medieval Ages. Even though this ceremony is a huge honor for any Hindu to receive, in my opinion cremating people outside in the open for spectators to view is a bit gnarly. But what do I know about achieving Nirvana, so I merely watch this spectacle and keep my western opinions to myself.
The burnings take place from the early morning well into the night and can cost the family up to 3,000 euro depending on the quality of the wood. Sandal wood is the most expensive and sought after wood used for the cremation. Sandalwood does the best job of fulling cremating the body and hiding the smell of burning flesh. Currently Hindu women do not attend these burning ceremonies, because in the past the widow of the man being cremated was pressured by her husband's family to throw herself on his funeral pyre. Needless to say standing by these burning ghats makes any woman Hindu or not feel a tad bit nervous about being surrounded by a male population who might want to push you into the flames, so I was on full alert.

Beyond the crazy burning ghats is the other focal point of this city, the Ganges river, which is the heart and soul of this eccentric city. The river is severely polluted and full of the remains of dead people but that does not stop people from washing and swimming in the water. I saw people straight up drinking from the river. I opted for an early morning boat ride as a way to take in the river, as apposed to a dip in this bacteria ridden body of water. It was beautiful as long as you did not study the river, but instead the picturesque scene on the shore.

It goes without saying that Varanasi is a mind blowing place that takes you out of your comfort zone and throws you right into the fire (pun intended). It is a circus of life and death and everything in between. You will never be able to look at a barbecue pit the same way again.

Tight Security

My monkey Charlie is a necessity for my travels. I have no shame. He has seen the Great Wall of China, the Forbidden City, the Eiffel Tower, the Sagrada Familia, the Colosseum, the Vatican, he got sloshed in the beer gardens in Munich, and even chilled with the hippies in Amsterdam. This monkey has a full access pass to the world my friends. But the Indians did not want him stepping foot in the Taj Muhal. Now to be fair the trip has made him a little rough around the edges and his beard has gotten a little long but to consider this monkey a terrorist threat is ludicrous. He was brutally ripped from my backpack and the Security Woman barked "No toys!" obviously this security guard was on a major power trip and was way out of line. A toy! A toy! Blasphemy! Sorry lady but this is a world traveling monkey, so why don't you cut the 'tude. Actually I maturely stuck my tongue out at her behind her back and stomped over to the lockers (ie random Indian dudes watching foreigners' stuff for donations). Then sullenly went to see the biggest tomb made out of marble, which was breath taking and amazing despite my efforts to ruin the experience by sulking and ranting about how lame India is for the first twenty minutes. The Taj Mahal was spellbinding, but no sight is the same without Charlie.