It's funny how one person can restore all your faith. The night train to Varanasi nearly did me in, I won't go into the details, all I know if that I arrived at 8:30am the next day in tears once again. The auto-rickshaw driver found me at the train station and I really had no choice but to follow him to a hotel. He dropped me off and made me promise I would meet him the next morning at 5am for a boat ride. In my semi-conscious state, I agreed. I spent the entire rest of the day intermittently sleeping and vomiting at my hotel, I didn't eat for 45 hours. I wasn't even upset because I was too delerious to reflect on the situation!

That was three days ago. Since then, the auto-rickshaw driver, Vinod (he's 20), has been my angel. He really saved me in this holy city, giving me faith in the kind-heartedness of strangers.

Varanasi is the holiest city in the Hindu religion. Shiva resides everywhere, and to bathe in the water of the holy Ganges River is an honor that every Hindu has to complete at least once in a lifetime. Every morning at dawn, thousands of people descend the ghats of the Ganges (Ganga) to bathe, cleanse and pray. Dead bodies are cremated along the banks, the ashes tossed into the holy water. Dying on the Ganges frees Hindus from the cycle of reincarnation and sends them straight to NIRVANA - everyone wants to die in Varanasi.

The boat ride began at 5am and was astounding. The sky was full of cotton candy and wispy gray, the fires on the banks flickering brightly. We glided past hundreds of bathers, eyes closed, lips moving in prayer. We past a statuesque creature floating in the water and I aksed, "What's that?" and the boatman said, "Dead body." Just FEET away from me, floating face-up! If you don't have enough money to be cremated, you're just thrown into the river, apparently!

It's baffling to be in a city where old men with beards to their waists are waiting to die. PRAYING to die. Where you breathe in dank and dusky air and cough because you realize that you're inhaling the ashes of the dead. What a haunting and magical place.

Vinod and I got caught in a monsoon rain and hid in his rickshaw for an hour. The whole city flooded a foot and children came out to play in the water with the cows (cows are ubiquitous; just chillin everywhere!) and dogs. Vinod took me to meet his friends and we watched an American VCD of the pop groups Vengaboys and Aqua - all songs from 1997! The songs took me back years, but all the other kids claimed that they had just bought the CD new. Wow.

Vinod and Varanasi have humbled me. I can't complain. My problems are ridiculously miniscule compared to the people here. I could be on the streets, beggin for food, driving a rickshaw, not knowing if I would be able to pay my rent...my parents could be dead...

In the USA we take a lot for granted. The compassion of Vinod and his friends, as well as the mystery of Varanasi, have made me realize that I have been truly blessed.

I leave for Calcutta this afternoon, but I will never forget Varanasi.

~Hope