Rafting outside of Rishikesh

In the foothills of the Himalayas, with only a large dam to observe, we put three rafts into the Bhagirathi. A stretch of river that is remarkably isolated and untouched in heavily populated India. I did not even know that such places existed in this country. I spent three hours paddling through the white water with 19 students, 2 other teachers, and 5 guides. Untouched India. I never dreamed I'd get into that, much less thanks to school and the trips it sends the high school out on every year. This year I signed up for a rafting trip. Having never rafted I wasn't at all sure if that was a good choice, or if I it was a mistake for my first experience to be with 19 high schoolers (the answer to that is mixed...). Luckily we had a good group, some nice water, beautiful scenery, and enough rapids to satisfy those thrill seekers among us (which I'm determining is not really a word that describes me). We rafted on three separate days. Two days on the river Ganges, and for the third we headed upstream, past where the Ganges technically starts, to raft the western branch called the Bhagirathi River. One of the tributaries that joins the Alaknanda River at the confluence to form the Ganges. I'll admit I was having a great time, enjoying the scenery, our campsite, the down time and, yes, the students, until I was on the one raft that flipped over the last day headed into Rishikesh on the Golf Course rapids. I suppose it wasn't really surprising, as I did learn that the only way to get through rapids is to paddle through them (well that or float on your back while the water splashes you in the face) and with high school girls in my raft who stopped paddling as soon as they got hit by any water it was just a matter of time before we went over. I've decided to look at it as being thoroughly blessed by the river Ganges, washed clean inside and out after going completely under then swallowing a good amount of water before I could be pulled back into a raft. It just goes to show you never know what a trip will bring.

The Beatles' Ashram

While we were in Rishikesh the friends I was traveling with discovered that it was on the outskirts of this town where all the Beatles spent some time in 1968. The four of them spent a varying amount of time, ranging from a few weeks to three months. The place they stayed is most often referred to by tourists as the Beatles' ashram, but was really the ashram of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi whom they were following as a meditation guru. The first day we were in Rishikesh we decided that we wanted to go for a walk and that the now abandoned ashram would be a good destination. Of course that was when we were told it was maybe a 45 minute walk from the hotel. I'm not sure who it was walking, but nearly two hours later we almost ready to turn around to go back. We agreed on 5 more minutes as we headed down some more rundown roads, and were soon off pavement. Just as we were about to give in we saw a sign for a cafe claiming they were the last stop before the Beatles' ashram, and an arrow pointing the way. With a bit more energy to our step we continued on the last 500 meters and found ourselves crossing a dry stream bed then walking into what was clearly not an abandoned ashram. There were chickens, cows, monkeys and plenty of orange clad sadhus in the courtyard among the pink tinged houses. Hmmm...not quite what we were expecting but for lack of a better plan we wandered in and down to the Ganges for a bit of peaceful reflection. Still, this didn't seem like the overgrown, up in the hill side ashram we had read about.

That evening once we had returned to the hotel for the night we looked it up on line. Seems we didn't quite make it to the ashram. Oh, we were in the right place, we were just at the bottom outside the entry rather than up in the ashram itself. So, the last day it was decided to make another attempt. I wasn't sure I wanted to walk back, but when we agreed to take a tuktuk to the closer foot bridge across the Ganges, cutting the walk down to 20 minutes, I decided it would be worth it just to get out and move around. Well it was worth it for a lot more than just that. We headed back to the pink building, walked around on the creek bed, and stood at the locked gate until a man hobbled down with his cane to let us in. Of course even though it is technically not a tourist site we still had to pay to get him to open up for us. After some discussion the ladies decided they wanted to take him up on the offer of a guide and so the money was handed over. Of course, we were then left alone to wander the grounds at our leisure. After taking a few pictures of the interesting entrance we headed up and then up some more. We rounded a corner and there off to the right, almost overtaken with vegetation were some beehive shaped, stone encrusted huts(?). I had stepped into a different world. One that was a bit rundown, a bit overgrown, yet still had a aura of its past activities. We wandered past larger buildings whose insides were now havens for plants and large spider webs with large spiders riding them. Passed a small temple to Shiva. Found the old auditorium which had been transformed into an informal art gallery, with large paintings decorating the walls and entryways that captivated my imagination. Saw a balconied multilayer building whose lines spoke of an earlier grace.  Spoke with a one legged gardener who attempted to combat the encroaching growth with just his machete. Found a other cluster of beehive shaped dwellings, including one proudly bearing the number 9. Left feeling as if we had had a successful excursion our last day in Rishikesh.

Walking across the Ganges

I walked across the Ganges yesterday. I walked across one of the most religiously important rivers in India yesterday. I walked across the roaring tumbling water yesterday. It was not quite the spiritual amazing experience that implies. I walked across a swaying, vibrating suspension bridge. I shared that passage way with motorcycles blaring their horns, the cows that were looking for scraps of dropped food, monkeys hanging onto the wires stealing popcorn bags from unsuspecting walkers, and a ton of other people pushing past and suddenly stopping to take pictures in turn. I walked across the Ganges yesterday. From the middle of the bridge I could see men and women bathing in the holy water here in Rishikesh where the Ganges begins its descent out of the foothills of the Himalayas. I could stand along the railing and absorb the power of the water, and see a hint of just how important it is by the number of temples that flank the banks. Once evening arrived we found ourselves at the aarti, the sending off prayers off down the river with little fires floating on the top of the water. Watching people circle their flames in prayer before adding them to the holy river. I walked across the Ganges yesterday.