Uttar Pradesh by 'Indian Helicopter'

200 kilometers in an auto-rickshaw.

Photos

My guide Avinash talked me into going to 'waterfall park' and 'then we go to family village'. I was somewhat hesitant, because everyone is always trying to talk you into going places. For whatever reason, I trust Avinash though. Unlike some other experiences I've had with people here, everything he says is consistent, and he seems very generous and kind and considerate. He also drives his 'helicopter' (an auto rickshaw) like a certified madman. 'How many wheels a Helicopter have?' he always asks. People always reply 'Uh, none'. 'No, no, like, attack helicopter, how many wheels they have? They have three! My rickshaw have three, they fly in air, mines flys on ground!' This, followed by some crazed driving motions and horn honkings. If you appear to be in the least bit of a hurry, he always says, 'My friend, in India we say, no hurry, no worry, no chicken, no curry, no wife, no life...' the statement goes on with a bunch of rhymes. The important part is that directly after saying that, you hop in his helicopter and he drives more aggressively than anyone I've ever seen, even in India. But he does it all as if he's not in a hurry. It's amazing, really.

We fuel up the rickshaw and head to National Highway 2. We go up a small dirt on ramp onto a 4 lane divided highway that crosses over the Ganga on a giant bridge that looms over Varanasi (Benares, as most people call it). Driving 70 kilometers an hour in a tiny 3 wheeled car in and out and around Indian traffic is a hell of ride. Riding on the back of a motorbike in the city is the only thing I can think of that's been more fun. Very quickly we get off the large highway and head South (I think). We're passing through some small part of India's massive agrarian infrastructure. It's a relatively peaceful and serene experience compared to the city, but everyone still drives like mad. The countryside here is beautiful as are all the farms and the small towns you pass through as you go along.

We stop for the first of many, many cups of chai tea and have some samosas. The street food here is almost universally delicious, though there have been some exceptions. Eventually we hop back in the Yellow and Green 'helicopter' and get moving. It's quite a bit more out of place here than in the city. The road is dominated by the universal Tata motors diesel trucks. Second to that is a mix of motorbikes, bicycles, SUVs, and small cars. You do see the occasional autorickshaw, but unlike ours that has only 3 people in it (Avinash's cousin Ravij is along for the ride and to take us to his sister's farming village later), most of the ones we encounter have at least 8 people. If you saw an empty auto-rickshaw, you wouldn't think this is possible, but I assure you that it is. I don't think I have any photos though.

Eventually, after taking a shortcut of Ravij's that turns out not to be such a shortcut due to an unfinished railway crossing, we make it to the 'waterfall park'. This is apparently a U.P. (Uttar Pradesh, anything government related is just abbreviated UP) or locality owned park. We pay 50rs to park the helicopter and head in on foot. When people in America picture a post apocalyptic society on the rebuild, this is what they picture. Dilapidated buildings everywhere, old playground equipment, overgrown vegetation and trash everywhere. But most of India is like this. It's not that's in not beautiful in its own way, either. We walk down a steep stairway to the waterfall, which is very beautiful, but even more crowded with trash. Government run sanitation services seem sorely under-funded in India. We find a comfy spot, crack open a few beers, play some music from Avinash's mobile and relax. Many people come up and want to get their picture taken with me. I oblige all of them, but get pictures in return. One guy from Goa insisted that we take one picture with our shirts off and flexing our muscles. I get people talking about my biceps a lot in India. It's kinda weird. Anyway, I oblige that, but don't get my own copy. I give some poor village kids some rupees, and we head out.

The village is quite a drive, but it's a beautiful one and the roads are very nice, so we make pretty good time. Along the way we stop at a small shrine on the side of the highway to offer prasada. A small man in orange robes sits happily watching the shrine. He is definitely the first man I've encountered in India that I felt was truly holy. He seemed so happy and at peace, and he just sits at the shrine, all day long. He blessed us, I asked Avinash if I could give him money, Avinash said yes, and he gratefully accepted it and said a small prayer. This is in start contrast to most of the temples in the city (except the New Vishwanath Temple on the B.H.U. campus) that are aggressively trying to take as much money from you as possible. And in very stark contrast to the Brahim man I had to pay off to get into the Golden Temple (Vishwanath Temple in Varanasi, not the one in Amritsar), who assured me I would get very good karma for giving him 1100 rs and his shrine 500rs -there are many shrines inside the golden temple, all apparently run by different families, or something.

We eventually arrive at the village after driving along a very scenic canal road. Many bridges criss cross the canal, and, like almost everything in India, they are made of brick. Each one is different. Ravij's sister isn't expecting us (though his brother-in-law does have a mobile, and we could've called), but they happily greet us. The kids stare at me and I say hi and namaste, but mostly they run away and act shy. I get a brief tour of the farm, they show me all the vegetables they are growing (quite successfully) and the brother-in-law brings me to a tree that has some berries that we eat that are apparently important in Ayurvedic medicine. Ravij's brother-in-law is also the village doctor, so when we get back a patient is waiting for him. After consulting the patient he talks to Avinash and then walks over to his motorbike and starts it. Avinash directs me to get on the bike. We go on a much bigger tour of the village.

The Sun is setting red-orange into the ever smoky Indian Horizion, lighting the greens and yellows and whites of the vegetation, contrasting against the red-orange clay soil. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. We come across a many villagers, he stops each time and greets them, they greet me, and he tries as best he can to explain what they do to me. We take some 'kha-ni' of which I know nothing except that it is, as the Dr. said 'Indian drug'. It's actually just a particular preparation of chewing tobacco with lime, but having never chewed tobacco before, I had no idea. Eventually we stop for chai at a tiny 'market' in the village. At this point 40 or 50 people are crowded around me all staring directly at me. This sounds uncomfortable, but it's not really. I try to take the time to look at everyone individually while we are trying to talk about where I'm from, what I do, and whether or not I'm married. Eventually they insist that I take pictures, so I took pictures in a circle all the way around me. It's getting pretty dark, so we head back.

Once I get back I'm motioned into the family's clay house, where we sit cross legged on rice bags on the floor. We eat a simple but amazingly delicious meal of small roti-like breads and a green chile potato dish of some kind, illuminated by kerosene lanterns. I drink the water (they say to only drink bottled water in India), because it seem like the thing to do. It's getting really late, but the village people want to talk, so we talk some more, I take turns asking them their names and horribly mispronouncing them to great throngs of laughter. Eventually I realize I can show them pictures on my laptop, so I get that out and show them a couple of shots of various things in America. At this point I have wide eyed kids on all sides of me pressing into me and pointing at my screen. They all knew the word 'laptop' though, so it's not like it was a total novelty.

It was really time to go, so I say good bye, and we hit the road. The drive back is cold and long and I arrive at the Rahul Guest house tired and sore, but happy.