The middle way

The Giant Buddha Statue unveiled
by the Dalai Lama in 1989

Bodhgaya is a small town that lies roughly half way between Varanasi and Kolkata, in the very poor state of Bihar. There are no train stations in Bodhgaya - the closest station is the city of Gaya, 13km away. Yet Bodhgaya is a major stop on the Buddhist pilgrimage route and sees a huge influx of devotees every year. The Dalai Lama makes a yearly pilgrimage to this holiest of Buddhist localities.
There's a reason for this Buddhist devotion - it was here in Bodhgaya that the prince Siddhartha Gautama achieved enlightenment underneath the Bodhi Tree and became the first Buddha. If you're not into Buddhism and visiting eastern temples, then Bodhgaya is not worth a stopover. However, if you're fascinated by eastern cultures and would like to see the place where one of the greatest world religions was founded, then be sure to visit.
Reaching Bodhgaya was quite an experience - 13km in an autorickshaw is not for the feint of heart, and the authorities in Bihar don't make life any easier. Every so often the road is lined with about 15 "rumble strips" that make the sleeping police we favour in Malta look like blips on the tarmac. On an autorickshaw without suspension, and virtually no headroom this is a recipe for sore heads and lots of cricked necks. Once in Bodhgaya our rickshaw picked up about half a dozen tails - on motorbikes, on bicycles, or on foot - all of them desperately trying to get us to follow them to their guest house. Sadly for them they only got a bit of exercise out of us, as we already had a plan for the night - we would be staying at one of the many Buddhist monasteries that offer lodging for travellers. We found lodging in the Tibetan temple where we were given a very clean room with fan and a shared bathroom for a very reasonable Rs200 (€3.20). There wasn't much interaction to be had with the Buddhist monks - they pretty much kept themselves to themselves, but it was nice to have access to the "behind the scenes" life in a monastery - our lodgings were behind the line marked "No entry beyond this point".

Intricate brushwork at
the Bhutanese temple

On the streets of Bodhgaya (its a very small town) we started on the Buddhist temple circuit, visiting the Nipponji (Japanese) and Bhutanese temples. Bodhgaya provides an interesting juxtaposition of the various temples of worship from all over the world, one next to the other. Its like travelling allover south east Asia in a short 2km walk. Though the basic principles are the same, the devil's in the details - every temple has unique aspects, be it the colourful murals, or the manicured gardens, or in the case of the Thai wat, the innumerable reflective panels adorning it!

The Great Awakening

The main attraction in Bodhgaya has to be the Mahabodhi temple complex  where the first Buddha achieved enlightenment. This sprawling, peaceful complex houses a giant wat surrounded by landscaped gardens and a fish pond. It is in this garden, beneath a giant Bodhi tree that Buddha achieved enlightenment. Below the tree you'll find hundreds of Buddhist devotees meditating. The tree isn't the original one that Siddhartha Gautama sat under, but it is a direct descendant. The Emperor Ashoka's wife, jealous of the attention her spouse paid to the sacred tree, suffered a fit worthy of the Queen of Hearts and killed the tree. As luck would have it, a sapling had been taken from the tree many years before and planted in Ceylon (Sri Lanka); and the Bodhi tree that stands in the Mahabodhi temple today has grown from a cutting taken from the Ceylon tree.

Dungeshwari Cave Temples
For our second and final day in Bodhgaya we decided to brave another long rickshaw ride to visit the Dungeshwari caves, where Buddha spent six years meditating in complete isolation, neither supping nor drinking. It took us a good hour to travel the 20 or so kilometers from Bodhgaya to the foot of the hill, but it was a very interesting (albeit back-breaking) ride through paddy fields and rural villages. Lots of friendly smiles and waving children, as well as the occasional water buffalo lying in the middle of the dirt road.

Lemur!

The forest surrounding the hills housing the cave temple quickly thinned out and we were out in the sun for a 20 minute slog up the steep concrete path. Towards the top we found some more trees for cover, and a languid lemur was sitting in the shade munching on some biscuits. As with all temple complexes, we were harangued by the usual beggars and peddlers of incense and prayer flags. Running the gauntlet, we made our way to the temple proper. Temple is a bit of a misnomer - the cave has pretty much been left untouched since the days of Gautama Buddha: a statue representing a very skinny Buddha after his six years of fasting has been placed inside, and a couple of monks are always on duty to make prayers and offerings with Buddhist devotees and curious western travellers.
Five minutes of chanting, a red dot on our forehead, and some crystallised rice in our mouths (straight form the hands of the monk) and we were feeling suitably blessed and ready to head out and face the world. We even, foolishly, thought it might be a good idea to try to climb to the top of the hill. In the tropical heat, wearing flip flops and trying to weave our way through the trees: NO WAY! After about five minutes we desisted and headed back down to our waiting rickshaw for the bumpy ride back into town.

Moving On
Two days in Bodhgaya went quickly by, but I doubt we would have found many other ways to fill our time had we spent longer in the town. Certainly, we could have whittled away the hours sitting in the shade of the Bodhi tree, but there's only so much sitting around that Aaron and I were willing to do on our three week trip to India. We took a rickshaw back to Gaya four our night train to Kolkata that was running four hours late, but understandably so, as a tree had fallen onto the tracks.

Benares goes Orange

Varanasi - the magical City. Also known as Benares. City of Ghats. City of the Ganges. City of Sadhus. One of the oldest continually inhabited places on earth. The holiest Hindu city in India. The most auspicious place for a Hindu to die... the list of sobriquets could go on and on, for Varanasi is a city of many talents and a rich history. Possibly one of my favourite places on our itinerary. Off the night train, one intense rickshaw ride through city streets that could be anywhere in India, and we are dropped off in the old quarter, close to Dasaswamhed Ghat, the focal point of activity on the Ganges.
Out of the scorching sun, and into the narrow alleys, we set off seeking accommodation. We attracted the ubiquitous guest house tout, who proceeded to trail us (or keep just a step ahead of us) in our wanderings - we asked nicely, we asked not so nicely (and in several languages) for him to desist - we even ducked into a café for ice-cream and iced tea, but he was still there waiting! It was only on the doorstep of the Gangpati Guesthouse that he abandoned us - bounced away at the door by one of the staff!
Free from our backpacks, Aaron and I set off into the afternoon heat with cameras at the ready: Varanasi is teeming with Hindu pilgrims, Sadhus, beggars, cows and picturesque alleys. With Shiva Purana in full swing, Dasaswamhed Ghat was teeming with orange-clad devotees jostling for a chance to dip into the Ganges for the daily Ganga Aarti (river worship) ritual. Varanasi locals wash in the river twice daily, whereas pilgrims carry away flasks of the brown water for use at home (kind of like Catholics at Lourdes) - the waters of the holy river wash away bad Karma you may have accumulated during the day. Beyond the sea of orange, and onto the first steps of the Ghat, we were met with a sight unlike any photo of Varanasi we had beheld. The whole platform had been swallowed by the swollen waters of the Ganges. The mighty river had gone from a placid body of water to a swirling mass of brown - the current was so strong that boat owners were barred from carrying tourists for the mandatory dawn boat ride. The ban didn't stop some boat operators from inflating the prices by 600% (to make up for any baksheesh that may have to be paid to inquisitive police officers) for a ban flouting boat, dangerous boat ride.
On the few steps of the Ghat that were still above the waterline were Hindu holy men and women dispensing Puja boosting flowers and offerings, and Aaron got himself another Tikka on the forehead. Once we'd had our fill of orange-clad devotees dripping in water from the Ganges rubbing against us (maybe we got ourselves some Puja by proxy) we headed into the narrow lanes for some exploration and photography. The Lonely Planet guide book warns you about the "Varanasi shakedown" and how the city is teeming with touts and tricksters, but barring the guest house tout in the morning and a couple of offers to "come into my shop for a look" we weren't hassled. Our explorations took us to a few other Ghats (also flooded) and past many shops with nice trinkets for the folks back home.
Laden with shopping (hand painted t-shirts, window hangings, bags and CDs) and our supply of Rupees considerably whittled down, we made our way past some very angry bulls and back to the guest house. Gangpati guest house deserves a special mention for the friendly atmosphere and awesome balcony rooms overlooking the Ganges. The food from their kitchen is your typical Indian guest house fair - a mix of local dishes with a sprinkling of Indianised Western dishes (everything is flavoured with curry) and some Chinese favourites - also "made from the heart". However the garden courtyard with its fountain, and the rooftop restaurant with fresh breezes and views of the river more than make up for the waiting time.


Manikarnika - The Burning Ghat
When a Hindu dies in Varanasi they are released from the cycle of rebirth. Cremation on the banks of the Ganges and subsequent dispersal of your ashes into the holy waters ensures that you won't come back as a cockroach or a Sadhu, but will attain a blissful state of not-being-but-being-at-the-same-time. Young children and Sadhus are not cremated - the bodies are give up to the currents wrapped in a shroud. They float away if the currents are strong enough. As we came close to the burning Ghat we were accosted by a "priest" (?) who claimed to work in the house of the dying, requesting a hefty donation (he mentioned something about us buying wood for funeral pyres at $13 a kilo!) in order for us to achieve "good karma and appreciate the Hindu culture". When we refused to comply he barred our entry to the Ghat and shooed us away... so we took another alley and approached the Ghat from the opposite direction. Manikarnika Ghat was very different to the Ghat we visited in Agra - there were several cremations going on when we arrived, with more bodies arriving on the shoulders of doms (outcasts who traditionally handle dead bodies) and lots of mourners. A strong feeling of voyeurism overtook us so we beat a respectful retreat. I guess watching the events from a boat at a respectful distance would not have been as uncomfortable.


Kama Sutra - Only for the Flexible!

Away from the Ghats we made our way to the Nepali Kama Sutra temple. This hidden gem is covered in carvings depicting scenes from that oh-so-famous Hindu book, the Kama Sutra. Seeing the sculptures I couldn't help but wonder at the flexibility that some of the poses required! Here we met a friendly Sadhu who gave us some biscuits and told us about his daily routine of prayer and meditation.

The rest of our time in Varanasi was spent wandering the streets, offering alms to beggars and Sadhus (more good Karma!) and sipping cold drinks in our balcony overlooking the Ganges. Our visit coincided with the waters of the Ganges being swollen, so we didn't get the full blown Ghat effect (since most Ghats were underwater); but not many travellers have seen Varanasi in this state. Plus, I've got an ironclad excuse to visit this spiritual city again!