Amiram Hayardeny's My China Experience

India Trip – Day Twelve: Rishikesh

After a continental breakfast we left for Rishikesh.  We had a couple of knots in our collective stomachs due to our experience in Haridwar the day before.  The knots quickly untied.  As we finally saw the other side of India.  The calm, peaceful, basic.  We met a nice local tour guide, who received strict instructions from Kishan, our driver, to take us to places to our liking, and to avoid leading us to the local predators.  Apparently there were none.

We walked over the Ram Jula, a bridge put up by the India government in 1985.  Ram Jula is a hanging bridge that serves people, bicycles, motorcycles and the occasional cow.  But no cars.  From the bridge one can see a breathtaking view of the foothills of the Himalaya mountain range.  The Himalayas.  It is absolutely beautiful.  We were told that the Everest is merely a few hundred kilometers away.  Imagine that.

Indeed, the place is chosen by all the Ashrams for a reason.  It is as peaceful and quiet as you can imagine.  We crossed the bridge to find ourselves in a different planet.  Quiet, peaceful.  Welcoming people, smiling, forthcoming, quiet and simply put – nice.

The experience would have been just a great one.  But in comparison to the previous day, it was a touching, exhilarating.  Rishikesh is a great place to be.

We went to a few temples, and a few Ashrams.  It is the off-season now, so most of the Ashrams are pretty empty, with some exceptions.  We have learned that many of the Ashrams accept people for   Yoga practicing and learning for six months periods.  Free of charge.  Room and board at no charge at all.  Apparently, rich people are supporting the Ashrams with operations money.

As we have learned (and saw) henna is widely used here.  Henna is used by men who want to avoid white hair, and by brides and grooms before the wedding ceremonies.  In Rishikesh, we have seen the art of henna applying from very close.  The results are pretty, but we chose not to experience it first hand, literally...

Naturally, we headed to the Rishikesh market.  We found the most pleasant market yet.  Nice people, very colorful.  In short, we were grateful for Rishikesh.

And again, we will never forget this man, who so gracefully, without a spoken word, made us feel welcome and embraced in Rishikesh.  Don't miss it. 

Posted at 08:53PM Feb 13, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[3]

India Trip – Day eleven: Haridwar

Again, I salute the India Rail Company for leaving, and arriving on time, and for serving coffee, tea and corn flakes in the early morning.  We arrived in Haridwar and checked in to the Country Inn hotel.  The hotel is probably the best in Haridwar, but will compare favorably only with Holiday Inn Express.  They have a restaurant with the pretentious name of “Mosaic”, serving “multi national foods”.  We visited the restaurant three times, and in all instances, we were the only customers.  In fact, the attraction was so outstanding, that the entire kitchen crew and the waiters came to greet us, and pretty much danced around us throughout the meals.  Yet, they must have served something that didn't agree with us, because we chose to eat crackers rather than going there again.  Other restaurants were out of the question.

We went to Haridwar for the ceremony of “Puja”.  The ritual which involves putting a boat of leaves filled with flowers and a lit candle in the water of the Ganges river.  By far, Haridwar was our worst experience in India, and I clearly recommend to anyone interested: if you don't have to be here, there's nothing lost by not showing up.  I say it clearly, bluntly.  No reason to come visit here.

Haridwar is filthy, crowded with an army of beggars, with poverty stricken children, mutilated people, and religion merchants who force their merchandise on you every single step of the way.  It is an unpleasant visit to the point that I was ready to quit.  Dorit insisted we stayed for the actual Puja ritual which takes place after sundown.  We did.  I don't think it was worth it.

Some observations, however, are worth mentioning.  The river is strong, pure, clear and very big.  Apparently, the water can be diverted between a few channels.  The shallow stream is occupied with many Ghats – the staircases that go into the water for people to take the holy dip.  People throw coins into the water, they also throw earrings, rings, and little pieces of gold.  All as offerings and gratitude for a prayers which were answered.  Little kids, half dressed, walk the river feeling for items with their feet, occasionaly picking up coins and other items which they quickly conceal in their shirts.  Others, the more advance done, walk around with a small piece of glass, which serves as a diving mask, and a stick with a lump of tar at the end.  When they spot something, they stick the tar stick in the water and retrieve it.

The visitors, mostly pilgrims, wait patiently for the ceremony to start.  All the while, dozens of official looking people walk around with fat books of receipts, and collect.  They offer to take anything, but prefer, as they say, notes, with multiple zeroes.  If you take the time to compare these well looking, healthy people, to the starving others, the comparison is very, very unfavorable.

Regardless, we thought that the children would have a nice experience floating leaves, flowers and a candle downstream.  Indeed, they did.  There was something to it that I can't explain.  Lets hope that if there's any bad karma anywhere, we had it go downriver...  It was a timely gesture for Guy, who is celebrating his fifth birthday tomorrow.  If only he would agree to float his green, moldy pacifier down the river as well, it would have been perfect...

We left Haridwar with a feeling that we should have concluded our trip earlier.  The connection between organized religion and poverty, dirt and human misery, made us want to flee.

But, thanks to our driver and guide, Kishan, we didn't.  We stayed and went to visit Rishikesh the next day.  Let me use this opportunity to thank Kishan for his perseverance.  If we left India after our visit at Haridwar, it would have been a bitter end to an otherwise great trip.  Rishikesh was a correcting experience.

Back to the Country Inn we went to the room to get ready for dinner when a growing noise of something large approaching, and a slight but noticeable shaking of the room made us think we're in a middle of an earthquake.  It wasn't.  It was a train.  As it turns out, the rails are just outside the hotel, twenty meters at most from our room window.  Nothing serious, but it did bring a couple of memories.

The obvious one is "My Cousin Vinnie", who's experience with the Alabama railway system is very well recorded in the film.  The other was more personal.  Years ago, before Shiri was born, Dorit and I went to the Grand Canyon.  Our travel at the time was more frugal than it is today.  We chose the Howard Johnson's.  As soon as we checked in, we thought that the motel will collapse burying all inhabitants under its ruins.  It was a train.  But as we learned later, not just any train.  It  was a freight train the size of a few football fields, with five engines in front.  It was loud and powerful.  And it came every ten minutes on average.  Our night was, well, interesting...

But both Guy and his father (that's me) are fascinated with trains.  So we didn't mind it much, except when it came at four in the morning...

Posted at 08:05PM Feb 13, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[1]

India Trip – Day Ten: Back to Delhi

We left Agra in the morning after a royal breakfast at the Clarks Shiraz.  Not a great hotel, in need of a major overhaul, but the breakfast was spectacular.  In fact, Agra is the same: in need for a major overhaul, despite having the world's number one wonder of the world...

The ride was uneventful.  Our guide, Kishan, whom we fondly call “Shirkhan” after the character from the Jungle Book, told us that all industry in a radius of about fifty kilometers was shut down, so the Taj Mahal enjoys no pollution, and therefore more picture-perfect days.  In any case, right after the fifty kilometer line we've started seeing some small and large factories.  The largest we've seen was a factory for processing of sugarcane.  Trucks come in from many miles away, to unload the raw sugarcane.  They went in a long line.  Coming from Israel, where no sugarcane is to be found, I always find it fascinating (and flavorful).

Driving into Delhi is hell.  If you're anywhere around the world, complaining daily about your drive to the office, about the traffic jams, the smoke and smog, the horns, the noise, the attitude and the driving – I challenge you to come drive in Delhi.  Trust me, you will miss home after three minutes.

We stayed at the Maidens Hotel.  Beautiful, built by the British over fifty years ago.  The room was spacious, comfortable, hot water, heat, everything.  Recommended.

We pretty much collapsed, knowing that the next day, we have another long train ride, this time to Haridwar.

Posted at 07:42PM Feb 13, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[2]

Some Observations, Thoughts and Discussion Points from India

Observations and Discussion Points

Those who read the business section of the daily newspaper recognize the name “Tata”.  But visiting here you understand what Tata really is for India.  Like “Ford Country”, Rajahsthan is Tata Country.  Almost every bus is Tata, and every truck, and every second car, and phone.  Tea, coffee, sugar and salt.  Hotels and cell phone carrier.  Tata is everywhere.  Tata is pervasive.

Milk is collected and distributed here the old fashioned way.  Farmers have a choice to sell to government dairy collection agencies around the countryside, or to come into town with their milk jars installed on their motorcycles and sell it privately for a higher price.  Some have agreements with urban families for the daily delivery of fresh milk.  My wife and I saw it, and reminisced about the neighborhood milkman who would bring milk to our doorsteps when we were growing up.  My daughter had some trouble understanding the concept of milk being sold outside the supermarket.  We moved on to kerosene distribution, back then with a horse, a container and a bell.  People would come down, get their kerosene and go home to heat their small houses.  After reminiscing for a while, we both agreed that supermarket milk and air conditioning are better.  Kerosene and milkmen are good for nostalgia.

Apparently the Indian government made a mistake in assessing the country's incredible growth.  It is obvious now, that not enough electricity is produced to provide the demand.  Therefore, the brownout system is employed.  In some places, electricity isn't available for four hours a day.  Every day.  In some places, more.  We've been to many places that have their own generators, so they can support their customers and their places of business.  Teaches you a lesson.  We take electric power for granted.  Should we?

Discussion: Religion vs. Organized Religion
Undoubtedly, religion is good for some.  It serves as a helping hand at times of need, and guidance at other times.  It provides a guideline for good living, and a framework for conducting one's life – birth and death, marriage and divorce, initiation and termination.  It provides ground rules for personal conduct, honesty, integrity and even how to conduct business, give charity, and many may other things.  In fact, to be religious, is to be comfortable in what one does.  People who lack the belief must confront decisions without guidelines and frameworks.  But this isn't the point I'm trying to make.  Religion, on a personal level is good.  Religion on a professional level, on commercial level, in my mind is less desirable.  In virtually all my encounters with commercial religion, I was disappointed.  Heaven and hell aren't for sale.  Well being and good karma, in my mind aren't for sale.  Health isn't for sale.  But people are very superstitious.  If someone tells them that if they do something (money is usually involved) they or their loved ones will become healthy, happy, prosperous, they do it without hesitation.  Who wouldn't shell out money to ensure his karma, his family's?
In my mind, everyone who offers good karma, health, happiness for money is a charlatan.  No offense meant.

Discussion: What's the fascination with India?

Traveling through India, I've seen quite a few western people dressed up in traditional outfits, with a real or fake look of enlightenment, or nirvana on their faces.  Growing up I knew a ping-pong champion who became a Harry Krishna follower.  And I have no intention of going into the airport scene in the seventies and eighties where it would be quite common to be presented with a flower, some writings, and a hand.  Nice people, always smiling

So what's the fascination of the west by eastern religions, medicine, way of life?

Let me take a wild guess.  It's called yearning.  Longing for something that we can't experience locally, that is not available at the store, that we didn't grow up with, that will never be part of our lives.  Longing for what's been missing in our lives.  Our lives are filled with large and small conveniences that we take for granted.  Electricity, running water, centralized sewer system, food, clothing, entertainment, communication systems, the list is long, very long.

There are also some disappointments.  Large and small.  We sometimes look at our lives as “shallow”, “meaningless”.  We sometimes look at the government as clueless, and at ourselves as having no control over our lives and fate.  Medicine is sometimes helpless, and our own western religions are sometimes looked at as greedy, aggressive and self promoting.

India, and other eastern religions can provide us with things that are missing from our lives.  It can actually give us something we can only dream about.  It's called back to basics.  But in a real sense.  Some of us try to accomplish it back home.  Go for a weekend at some resort that promises whole wheat bread, fully vegetarian meals, and mud baths.  For which, of course, we pay a lot.  But it isn't even close.  In fact, it isn't even far...

In India, you can experience living as people lived two thousand years ago.  Next to the river, which provides water for washing and cleaning and cleansing.  No electricity, for real, not the occasional brownout.  Wearing basic clothes, eating basic foods, avoiding the rat race altogether.  Same with the religions.  Basic.  River, flowers, chanting.

I have been telling Dorit that I would love to stay at an ashram for six months, doing nothing but Yoga, meditation, reading old scripts and the main thing: shutting my big mouth for a while.  Dorit always said that I was full of it.  That I won't survive a day.  She was wrong.  I won't survive an hour.  When we went to visit an Ashram in Rishikesh, my first and only question was if they have WiFi...

In Haridware I understood that I don't connect to the river, flower, chanting scene and I certainly don't connect to the poverty, illiteracy, dirt, blunt aggressiveness that comes with it.  In Rishikesh I understood that there are many faces in India.  Most are welcoming, smiling and very hospitable.

I chose the picture on the right to symbolize India for me.  I saw this guy sitting outside an Ashram in Rishikesh.  He welcomed us with two hands pointing at us from his chest, and gave us a big smile.  We kept going, and then I turned around.  He was still smiling.  I approached and asked to take his photo.  He agreed.  I also took a couple of photos of him with the kids.  But look at the guy.  He's simple, basically dressed, yet happy and content.

Is this what everyone is looking for when they are coming to India?  It looks like a long journey indeed.

Posted at 07:11PM Feb 13, 2008 by Amiram Hayardeny in Personal  |  Comments[0]