When Traveling India…

When traveling India, entirely too much time will be spent pissing out of your ass. When not pissing out of your ass, you will be swapping stories about how you got sick, where you got sick, or how terrible your ailments were with other travelers while sitting at a hostel or restaurant. I know not the best table talk…but it definitely is a shared experience. Chances are if there are 4 travelers sitting together 1 of them is feeling some grumbling in their tum-tum.

Somethings I’ve discovered:

  • Many have heard of Delhi Belly, but let it be known if Delhi doesn’t get you Varanasi will. I’ve only met 1 person on my trip thus far that has made it out of Varanasi without getting sick. Most people end up staying in Varanasi for a week or more and not by choice…but because they were sick for half of it. Figures with the level of or extreme lack of sanitation in Varanasi.
  • Don’t eat fresh fruit supplied at restaurants. It may be fresh but you don’t know if they washed it or not. Also even if they washed it you don’t know what kind of water they washed it with.
  • Only eat at places where lots of people are eating, preferably families. I’m going with the assumption that parents won’t let their kids eat potentially unsanitary food.

I’ve been out of Varanasi for 4 or 5 days now and I’ve finally just started feeling normal again. Varanasi you’re amazing, but I’m glad to be away from you!

In Varanasi…

After last nights post in khajuraho I caught a 12 hour train to Varanasi. First standard sleeper class is much rougher than the AC class; I particularly enjoyed the think brown layer of dust on all the beds, that car must have been sitting in the rust yard for awhile.
After a hagered night of bad sleep, we rolled into Varanasi stn. Let me warn you if you ever visit Varanasi stn IT SUCKS. More than that it fucking blows. Everyone seemingly is out to misdirect u in efforts to part u with ur cash. They are good really good. They didn’t get any cash from me but the autorickshaw but the driver took us to the wrong fucking place.

A little digression, i’ve never been to a country that has made me more distrustful of the locals. I’ve met some people that were gems like the old guy and his wife or the guys at madras cafe but most younger Indian touts have done a great job at jading me about meeting the locals. Anyone that approaches me I automatically ignore because any atempt to be polite or even acknowledge their existence will often times provoke a never ceasing barrage of sale pitches for several hundred meters (or farther if it’s a rickshaw driver. Looking forward to someone to seriously break the trend I don’t like forcing myself to be so disattached for the people around me.

So after arriving at the wrong hotel, arguing with our rickshaw driver, with eachother, then being acosted by a drink dude yelling at YeYe I and two others we attatched on too I was about to lose it. Almost provoked the drunk dude to attack by telling him to “get the fuck away from me.” in a slighty commanding voice. We said fuck it and decided to walk along the ghats instead of getting lost while negotiating the old city. When we finally got close to our destination we were dehydrated, sweaty, and cranky (did I mention it’s a nice 90+ degree day) we found a nice Japanese man that happened to also be staying at baba guesthouse. Thank god for him…YeYe was about to go all hulk gijang style. More later…