Day 55 - 56

Decided we had to do something today as it was Indian Independence Day and anyway, were woken at 8am by reception who demanded we come downstairs immediately to see the hoisting of the flag. I suspect they only phoned the British guests and we dutifully trotted down, looking sheepish and guilty for colonising India in the first place, the four of us personally accepting full responsibility.

Dinner at the 'Bread of Life Bakery', a Tibetan restaurant. On our way in the rickshaw we pass a billboard advertising Amul butter. The tagline was 'Get Buttered Not Battered!!' accompanied by two pictures - one of a woman enjoying dinner with her husband, the other of the same woman covered in bruises. I was gobsmacked, pardon the pun. The Indians seem really proud of their domestic violence.

We drove down to the ghats to see the Great Mother. A haunting, beautiful spectacle of a river. Twice as wide as I ever imagined and she stretches as far as the eye can see in both directions. Muddy brown, speckled, cloudy, frothy and dirty but not particularly stinky. It looks like French Onion soup, but instead of croutons there are bodies. Literally face down, floating, bobbing about. Children somersaulting into the river from high platforms, hundreds of wooden boats and men bathing and chanting. We arrived in time for sunset and it was raining lightly. Armed with umbrellas we boarded a little open wooden boat for a trip to see the prayers and 'celebrations'. We knew this meant public cremations and set off anxiously for a 90 minute boat trip, involving throwing candle lit flowers and dipping our hands in the holy water. I immediately produced anti-bacterial hand gel which Fern refused to use, whispering to me 'It is disrespectful to this holy river'. I hissed back 'Cholera' and squirted her anyway. No burning babies were seen and I could tell the girls were a little disappointed.

I found the Ganges surprisingly eerie, serene and spiritual, as if she is calling. You feel like you can stare deep into her for hours, even in the dark. She really has a story to tell. I really really enjoyed the experience and felt peaceful and happy. Clover yabbered nonsense all the way up and down, shouting random smack-provoking statements like 'Is this the Clyde' and 'Have we had lunch yet' and the most irritating one - 'I remember being born'. Fern, who was concentrating on also feeling peaceful and happy got very cross with her. The nice boatmen let them have a shot at rowing and we got some good photos. It was an amazing place to be, in the holiest of Indian cities on the famous river on Independence Day. We get up at 4.30am tomorrow to do it all again. Fern and I realised that she was meant to have started Primary 6 today but instead will be watching the sunrise over the Ganges. She looked at me earnestly and said 'I know where I would rather be Mummy'. Probably meant school.

Second round of the Ganges was just as lovely despite our ridiculous 5am start. I had been up during the night anyway with another bout of the runs. In fact nobody ever sleeps particularly well as we lie in seething dark silence listening to Clover grind her teeth away to stumps. The desperation of India is up and about in full glory. We passed lepers with gnarled bloody limbs like butchers bones begging in groups in the street. Children in rags collecting rubbish. And yet the streets are full - at 5am! - of people returning from the temple and the mosque. I find it difficult watching people worshipping gods and throwing money at shrines when children are starving outside.

Sunrise over the river was truly stunning and tranquil. Men bathing, praying and women washing clothes in her filthy water. I kept my mouth closed the whole time which was difficult. We saw the body of a young child in the water - all bloated, swollen and discoloured, still wearing yellow rags. Children, cows, pregnant women and holy men are 'sacred' and are spared cremation. It is a shocking sight but the disposal of bodies in a beautiful holy river does seem a reasonable solution - any worse than a vandalised crumbling graveyard? Hungry crows landing on the little body jolt us back to reality and the scene is desperately sad.

Started home schooling today - Fern is learning Indian History and to speak Nepali, Clover is doing sums and comprehension. I am a terrible teacher as I have no patience. Or much interest for that matter. I will stick with it though, I ain't coming home with a pair of thickos. We leave the mainland of India for the hill town of Darjeeling, West Bengal in a couple of days. My aunt and cousin both worked and lived there and I have people to meet, messages to pass on, places to go. We have spent two months and travelled over 4000km overland and will be leaving the best and worst of India behind us. Mixed feelings. I truly love the country and the people but could do without diarrhoea, the heat and the flies. Have we learned anything? Sure. Don't eat salad.