VARANASTY: DAY 2

As there was no possible way to survive a repeat of Varanassi: Day 1, we planned a much different day for ourselves. It began with a leisurely breakfast at the hotel (with a round of Lassis), and ended with us hurriedly boarding a tuk tuk, as we were nearly late for our valuable appointment to teach children English at the local elementary school. Clearly stating our destination, the German Bakery (next to the school), the driver nodded and we were off.... for about 1/3 as long as we should have been. Once the driver had driven about as far as he had decided to drive, he just stopped- telling us in broken english to get out. "We're not even close", we replied in unision. "No go further. Traffic. You walk", was the response. Believing it was not too far a walk, we set off- frustrated, but with high hopes for the teaching experience.

IT GONNA RAIN!

That's when it rained on our parade. Figuratively, and had we possessed a parade, literally. Cuz it started pouring. And I don't mean California pouring. I mean middle-of-tropical-monsoon-season-gnarly-national-geographic-flood-pouring. And our wonderful tuk-tuk driver had just dropped us off in the middle-of-God-knows-where Varanassi. We walked. And walked. My clothes got to the point where, had I fully immersed myself in a pool of water, I would have been more dry. Large puddles roughly the size of Iowa began to form in the prominent and numerous potholes spotting the streets. To our wonderment, we all realized that all of the "Holy Shit" from the thousands of cows (reincarnated human beings) walking the streets was breaking down and flowing into the massive puddles we were walking through. Mmmmm! There was not much else to do but laugh at the situation we were in. As we walked, laugher brewed into frustration- and frustration brewed into us hailing a second tuk tuk. The "fabulous four" (Jessie, Stephano, Greg and myself) piled into the tuk tuk, explaining once again that we had to go to the "German Bakery". We were already 20 minutes late for our teaching arrangement, so time was of the essence. We made that known.

Racing through the poop-water streets, our nimbly evaded everything except for the poop-filled puddles- which splashed up all around us. We didn't care. It was an adventure.

A BAKERY BY ANY OTHER NAME...

After 10 minutes, we arrived at a bakery. Apparently, our driver knew the word "bakery". The problem was, it wasn't even close to the "German Bakery"- neither in name, or in location. At this point we were 30 minutes tardy for our own class, lost in a monsoon poop-rain, completely soakingly wet, and outside a cozily inviting bakery. The choice was obvious: ditch the kids.

No, that wasn't the actual thing we were thinking, but getting to the school at this point was hopeless. For whatever reason, God had not made our path straight to get to the school. So we made the best of it.

The remainder of the afternoon consisted of drying off, relaxing, eating delightful food, drinking wonderful chai tea, and playing some serious matches of 2-on-2 chess with a travel set that Greg had bought. It was beautiful- and intellectually stimulating.

THE GANGES 2.0: NOT THAT UNPLEASANT

After 4 hours of chess (2 games), we decided it was time to move on. Jessie had to hop on the train back to Delhi in a few hours. Against all odds, we set out on a final tour of the waterfront of Varanassi- along the infamously disease-ridden Ganges. We made certain to stay far south of the body-burning section, and found the walk along the river surprisingly charming. Beautiful, broad stone walkway, cascading with stairways down to the river. Had I not been aware of the scene just a few hundred yards up the river, I would have regarded the area as "pleasant".

And JUST as we were enjoying the sunset amidst dramatically dark blue clouds overhead, our new-found comrade, a 12-year-old street peddling kid prophesied that it would "rain in 15 minutes". Sure enough, 15 minutes later, to the second, it began pouring. Again.

By this point, we were pros. We ran through poop-filled puddles quickly and nimbly- like a herd of gazelles running amidst the spring rains of the Serengeti. We ran through narrow streets of houses and past families with children greeting us with smiles and shouts of "Hello!". It was wonderful. We emerged out of the narrow network of alleyways and onto the main "boulevard"- flagging down a tuk-tuk for our return to the hotel.

BREAKING UP THE FAB FOUR?

Back at the hotel, we cleaned up and shared our final meal together (a few King Fisher beers and some appetizers) at the hotel bar. It was surreal that we had known eachother for so short a time, yet had become so close- and now our group of four was splitting off.

We walked out and said our goodbyes (or so Jessie thought), and saw Jessie off in her taxi. Stephano, Greg, and I went back to the bar, and then realized that we couldn't just sit there. We were a unit. The three of us "dudes" agreed to hire a tuk-tuk to drive us to the train station to see Jessie off properly. We hopped into the tuk-tuk, and were about to take off, when a tall Indian man with a big shotgun walked up next to me and just stared at me. I had NO idea what was going on. I asked the driver to leave. We didn't move. Once again, more intenseley, I told the driver to leave. The man stared me down. I was honestly scared. We pulled off, leaving the creepiest man on earth in our Indian dust.

We arrived a few minutes later at the train station, and hopped over the masses and masses of people lying on the floor of the station and platform. Luckily, we had practice with this, as we had been in this situation before. But this was the most people laying everywhere I had ever witnessed. I mean, nearly every square inch of floor space was people.

FINAL FAREWELL

We carefully hopped our way to the platform where Jessie's train was stalled, waiting to leave. The three of us ran down the length of the trian, looking into each car to see if we could spot her. We got to the very end, and had missed her. Figuring we wouldn't be able to find her at this point, we walked back. All of a sudden I spotted her in one of the cars. We slammed a "We Heart Jessica" makeshift paper sign to the rainy window of the train, and she looked up. It was awesome.

We met Jessie on the outside of her car, and said our final, proper, goodbyes. We were all much more satisfied. Then the train began to take off. Stephano and I ran alongside the moving train, while Greg literally held on to the stairway. As the platform disappeared, Greg hopped off and we stopped running. It was rad.

FARE THEE WELL, VARANASSI!

Our ride back in the tuk-tuk was fun- we got to pick up a policeman who forced himself into our vehicle against our will, without a word, and without a rupee. I guess that's how it works- cops ride free whenever they want.

We packed up the rest of our belongings back at the hotel, caught a bit of the "Michael Jackson Funeral Showcase", and were off. Back to the train station, onto our train without a hitch.

Goodbye Varanassi. Hopefully I will not be visiting you anytime soon. But may God bless you nonetheless.