chaos (PL / ENG)

(FOR ENGLISH VERSION SCROLL DOWN)

Varanasi. W obliczu tego miasta jestem bezsilny. Slowa traca moc. Jak bardzo bym sie nie staral, nie jestem w stanie opisac tego, co widza oczy!
Varanasi trzeba doswiadczyc, poczuc, dotknac, zobaczyc i uslyszec. Pokochac lub znienawidzic lecz nie pozostac obojetnym (to czeka kazdego, kto przekroczy bramy miasta). Varanasi jest niebezpiecznie skondensowana dawka tego, co w Indiach moze zaskoczyc najbardziej: CHAOS. Nawet definicje chaosu trzeba by z-re-definiowac na potrzeby tego miasta!

Choc slowa w tym przypadku zawioda, sprobujmy slowami pobudzic wyobraznie, za zamknietymi oczami przejsc sie waska uliczka w Varanasi... Mijac nas beda krowy, duze, male, olbrzymi byk, psy, a moze rozpedzona krowa wyskoczy zza zakretu prosto na nas?! miedzy nogami przeciska sie koza , ktos ja ubral w ciasna rozowa szmaciana koszule, dla zartu?, aaaaajjjjjj ktos wklada nam palec do ucha, co jest do cholery? "Ma pan/pani brudne uszy, wyczyscic za 5 rupii?" - zapyta bezceremonialnie Hindus Czysciciel Uszu... Nie dziekuje, odczep sie pan. Ale nie mija chwila, kiedy spomiedzy krow, koz bykow i psow (wszystko to w ciasnej uliczce!) wylania sie kolejny delikwent i widac juz, ze czegos od nas chce, ciach lapie nas za dlon, wygniata "A moze masaz dloni prosze Pana/Pani? Za jedyne 10 rupii?"- pyta kolejny Masazysta, szczezac zeby (lub bezzeby), nieeee nie dziekuje moze jutro...... "Haszysz, marihuana, palisz?, tanio!" - rzuca Masazysta Diler na odchodnym...Nie przeszlismy dziesieciu metrow a zaliczone mamy juz dwa masaze, akcje narkotykowa plus otarlismy sie o cala trzode chlewna. A w ciasnej uliczce toczy sie zycie codzienne, otwartym rynsztokiem, w kierunku swietej rzeki, plyna brudy( moze juz wdepnelismy) , krowie kupy niczym slupki slalom gigant, co jakis czas mini sklepik, turystyczny lub lokalny, gar kuchnia na swiezym powietrzu, patelnia, cos sie smazy, skwierczy, roti, naan, samosa, dal, lentylkowe smakolyki, zapakowac w gazete, za kilka rupii? Ciagle ta sama waska uliczka, te same dziesiec metrow. Tyle sie dzialo, ze nie spojrzelismy na lewo i prawo - a tam w zakamarkach swiatynie, kapliczki, posagi, sale modlitewne. Ruch jak w ulu. Mijaja nas medrcy wedrowni, nauczyciele, w pomaranczowych szatach, metrowych brodo-wasach i nigdy niestrzyzonych wlosach, pomalowanych twarzach, mozna sie zatrzymac, porozmawiac, zrobic razem zdjecie (pod warunkiem zaplaty-datku na wsparcie medrca). Mijaja nas kobiety, mezczyzni, mlodziez - gdzie pedza? Do mycia, do wanny, pod prysznic - czyli do swietej (najbardziej chyba na swiecie zanieczyszczonej) rzeki Ganges. Wychodzimy z ciasnej i pelnej przygod uliczki, przed nami rzeka Ganges, i schody rozciagajace sie na dlugosci kilkuset metrow wzdluz rzeki, schody, ktore prowadza pielgrzymow do samego nurtu swietego rozlewiska. Widok niecodzienny - mlodzi i starzy, namydleni, wskakuja do rzeki, zmywaja brudy, szoruja zeby, plu tfu wszystko do rzeki, radosc i swieta taplanina. Rzeka plynie zdechla swinia, napuchnieta jak balon, pewnie sie nagrzala na sloncu. Gul gul gul tfu zeby wyczyszczone i przeplukane. Co jeszcze czesem plynie swieta rzeka? Nie uwierzycie: niedopalone zwloki ludzkie. Ano tak, na pewnym odcinku nadrzecznych schodow (zwanych Ghat) dzien w dzien odbywa sie swiete cialopalenie zwlok, pradawna tradycja hinduska. Drewno nie jest jednak tanie i zdarza sie, ze rodziny nie stac na kompletne spalenie zwlok swoich bliskich. Wtedy do rzeki wpadaja niedopalone resztki z tradycyjnego obrzadku. W miedzyczasie kapiele trwaja w najlepsze a masazysci i sprzedawcy atakuja na kazdym kroku. A my dopiero przeszlismy kilka krokow, minelo kilka chwil. Od wrazen glowa peka.

Najczestrze reakcje turystow to zachwyt lub rozdraznienie/ ekscytacja lub zniechecenie/ w kazdym wypadku zmeczenie.

My jestesmy zaskoczeni ogromem wrazen, byc moze nie bylismy gotowi na taki szok. Do tego dwa dni przed naszym przyjazdem muzulmanscy terrorysci detonuja bombe w jednej z nadrzecznych swiatyn, gina ludzie, sa ranni, uliczki, nie dosc, ze pelne krow, koz, medrcow itd ... wypelniaja sie policja i wojskiem.

I jak to wszystko ogarnac?

Ups. Nie-da-sie:)



================================ENGLISH=============================

Varanasi leaves me helpless as a blog writer. I feel that all words loose their ability of expression. As much efford as I can put to it, I will never be able to describe what my eyes see in that unbeliveably out of this earth city! Varanasi must be experienced through seeing, smelling, touching and hearing it. The expirience and first impressions make anybody love it or hate it. This holy city does not leave the tourist indifferent. Varanasi is a dangerously condensed dose of what is most suprising (but also captivating) - a surrounding CHAOS! To be honest , I think that a definition of a word chaos should be redefined for the case of the city of Varanasi, in order to give full depiction of the situation, yeah

Alright, although I don't believe that words can help to give the real picture of Varanasi, let's at least try to stimulate the imagination and with closed eyes take a short walk down the narrow street towards Ganges river. You will pass a number of cows, small ones, big ones, bulls, sometimes a mad cow would jump from behind the corner running towards you- uff almost got hit!, then here you have a goat wearing a pink tight shirt - locals made a joke on poor animal!, awwwwwwww what the hell!, somebody's pulling a finger into your ear telling you that you got dirty ears and he can clean it for 5 rupee, "get lost man" you'll shout but here you see somebody among all the cows, dogs, goats, pigs, who is clearly approaching you with an offer... "Hear massage Sir/ Madame? cheap , only 10 rupee, you look tired, cheap" Noman I'm good - you want to be polite, but at the same time somebody else is grabbing your hand tight and squeezing it! "Hand massage Sir??? Very cheap, like it?"" You try to release your hand but he grabbed it strongly. What in the world is happening here, you'd think. You just told the guy you don't need hand massage, any damn massage but he will follow you whispering to your ear: " Hashish, opium, cheap? you smoke? good smoke I have cheap!" Last thing you should do is to continue talking with asshole - they often sell poison, some brainless tourist try sometimes and they end up in a jam: almost dying or in prison (drugs are illigal in India, you cannot call the doctor when you have drug related problems because he will not treat you-you go straight to prison). So you see, you haven't walked 10 meters yet and you've already experienced couple massages, you've been offered drugs and you walked through an entire zoo. But hey! it's not all - the narrow street acommodates everyday life of all the locals, you've got to watch the open sewage system, it runs down in the middle of the street towards the holy river; watch the cow's poo every step you take coz you may slip! ; every now and then you got open air takeaway kitchen, something's roasting, jumping on the pan, burning, roti, naan, thal, samosa, lentil delicatessen, packed in the newspaper, try it, love it, risk it (may kill you if you're unlucky, western stomach are not that strong, mind you). And it's all the same street! And you haven't had a second to look left or right - there are Hindu temples, mosques, prayers halls, chapels, monuments - people praying, singing, crammed as beehouse. Here and there on the street, between the animals, shoppers, kitchens and massagists you'll spot preachers, wise elderly, religious authorities wearing orange skirts, dresses, covers, with long beards, mustaches, never-cut hair, pained faces- you can make friends, talk, ask questions or take snaps (after some small donation, right). One more funny thing - lots of sellers will pull you in to their shop (big chance it's fake silk shop, there are millions of them in Varanasi) , and although you are not in the shopping mood - I tell you - it's not easy to leave! and if you don't buy, you may hear that you will have bad luck and bad karma! Unbeliveable

You will be pushed by crowds: men, women, youth and elderly, heading towards the saint river Ganges to have a bath, take a shower, brush their teeth - fullfil a holy cleaning ritual in the not-so-clean (or let's be fair: arguably world's most polluted) water. You would now leave the narrow lane and get a striking view over the river Ganges and the Ghats - stairs leading to the water, hundreds of meters of stairs along Ganges, rows of stairs full of Hindu people, covered in soap, brushing teeth, having a good time, having a bath. Guys swimming in their underpants, women fully dressed. Oh here you see a dead pig drifting in the middle of the river, swollen like a ballon, it's been in the water for couple of days. You got different kind of rubish in the water, but who cares. It's holy water, right? You feel like taking a bath? Then you might want to hear one more story: at some of the Ghats (river stairs), daily, a traditional ritual is performed attracting loads of foreign tourist starring from the distance: burning of the dead bodies. Yep, hundreds years of Hindu tradition, dead bodies are burned outside and whatever's left lands in... the... river. It may happen that the family of a dead person is poor and cannot afford the amount of wood that is needed for the full ritual. Then the body is burned partialy. Alright, you've got enough, I see it, you are not going to swim today. And you may already have a headache, it's been only a while but you've experienced so much, so many impressions at the same time!


Well, me and Charlyn were totally surprised , possibly , we were not ready for it after quiet Himalaya. On top of that , just few days before our arrival in Varanasi a bomb set by the Muslim terrorist exploded in one of the Ghat killing and injuring lots of pilgrims. As a result, narrow street of riverside Varanasi, were not only filled by the cows, goats, dogs, drug sellers, massagists etc but also by police and armymen.

And how can one understand that chaos?


Ups. NOT POSSIBLE :)

Zdjęcia (20)

Komentarze (4)