What differentiates serenity and chaos for you? One might see total peace in turmoil, while another may feel like they are bursting apart at the seams. Its like watching a bomb count down, 3...2...how do you feel at 1? Do you close your eyes and accept the inevitable? Do you prepare yourself for an adventure you've never experienced? Do you embrace this feeling of fear, uncertainty, and doubt with an open heart, an open mind. Who knows what is beyond this (metaphorical) bomb countdown. There is only one way to find out.

Varanasi visual bomb, morning of arrival.

I didn't wake up one day and decide to be in this chaotic environment, it just sort of hit me like a ton of bricks. I was on a Sadhbhawna Express train for 16 hours (express?) in economy class the whole day and night before getting here. The first bit of advice anyone gave me that had done this trip was to get a top bunk as fast as I could. Each car was divided into four sections, each section housed four bunks stacked on top of each other, and in each of those four bunks was what seemed to be an entire family. I was quick to realize this information other travelers passed on to me was invaluable.

Not mine Photo Source

I would consider myself extremely patient as well as tolerant of many situations. However, the mix of unbearable heat, lack of air flow in the cabin, and the shrieking noise of the crowd below gave me a sort of panic and uncertainty I cant describe. I vividly remember going back and forth in my mind contemplating whether I had made the right decision or not.

As I lay there on this train of chaos tucked inside a silk bivy sack with just my head exposed I realized the countless peering eyes on me. It seemed like I was the main act at a freak show, and I was failing miserably. The fascination and curiosity in those eyes was overwhelming. I wondered what questions these humans had for me, was I just totally out of place and disrespecting them by having a bunk all to myself? I would describe this leg of the journey as an acid trip with major ups and downs. A headfuck with beautiful insight.

Sleep deprived and humbled I walked out of the Varanasi Junction railway station into a different universe.

The ghats of Varanasi along the Ganges river.

Life on the Ganges.

It goes without saying that India is a sensory overload, it can be quite unbearable at times, and then be the most orgasmic experience the next. For instance, if you have ever had the displeasure of smelling decaying (human) flesh you will know that it is unforgettable. You can encounter this smell at random in the streets of Varanasi, it hits you like a left hook from Mike Tyson, five more steps and you are taken away by pungent, sweet wafts of freshly cut Boswellia sacra tree (frankensence) and Gajra (jasmine flowers).

Wicker weaving in the alley ways.

So you then factor nearly 1.4 million people in the country, things are tight. Walking down the alley ways of Varanasi you exchange deep stares with people only six inches from your face. The bustle of life is like a current of electricity going through power lines. To flow with this energy effortlessly and open minded is the best way to absorb this place. Going through the "what the fuck did I just see" to the "That is the sweetest smile anyone has ever given me" emotions are endless.

The shameless selfy.

I vividly remember searching for a good place to have some bhang lassi (if you know then you know) as I rounded a corner I felt a warm splat on my forehead and as It slowly ran down my face and across my mouth. I looked up to see a man with bright red teeth looking at me in horror. He had just spat a large quantity of betl chew (a nut mixed with tobacco or snuff and chewed) not expecting me to come in contact with it. We both stared at each other as if one were more shocked than the other, he took a rag out of his back pocket and handed it to me. I walked away from the scene not in anger as I thought I would but rather the understanding that it was a total accident and neither of us spoke the same language. His apology was giving me something to clean myself with and this slight head bobble thing that most all Indians do. I was okay with that.

Never alone or hungry in India.

I guess this is a good time to explain why I decided to come here in the first place. Varanasi is a holy city, millions of Hindus flock here every year to bathe their bodies in the sacred waters of the Ganges river. I think the city dates back to about 1000 B.C. and you can feel it coursing through you upon arrival. I wanted to experience this, to feel the deepness of it and understand why it means so much to so many.

In addition, all things that pertain to life, like death fascinates me. I have experienced death in my life more times than I care to talk about but how do others deal with this subject. When someone close to you passes, typically you go to a funeral, they are buried, and you visit their grave stone from time to time and carry their spirit in your heart.

Here in Varanasi and in India (Hindu religion) as a whole, death is different. The family is the most important part of a funeral rite. Even the children participate in the ritual, and rather than shield children from death they are brought up with the understanding of why death must happen.

One of many cremation sites along the Ganges river in India.

I feel like if my own family had prepared me for death at a young age I could have dealt with things diffrently throughout life. So I took it into my own hands to learn a better way of understanding this inevitable occurrence. Here in Varanasi death is in your face, it is in front of your pension (hotel), and it is everywhere you look. Almost everything here involves life or death.

Sitting at a cafe one day I could not help but notice a woman begging strangers for money. She looked very sad and gave off a certain energy of concern. I watched her for an hour or more relentlessly begging strangers. I walked out of the cafe and not far from there I spotted the woman and her family alongside a corpse wrapped in colorful silk and blanketed with flowers. It was simple to figure out they had been raising money for the purchase of mango wood to cremate their loved one. I was not sure how long they had been there but it was easy to tell by signs that it was a very long time. This struck me in a powerful way and I felt compelled to donate.

A family preparing to cremate their loved one.

So I spent a total of 3 weeks in Varanasi. Every day I was like a sponge absorbing information and experiences. My last day was notable because I had no intentions of moving on at that time really, rather something happened. I had met a Swiss traveler by the name of Sebastian a few days prior. We decided to get a different vantage point of the city, a small wooden boat and a charismatic captain took us out on the Ganges river at dusk. The haze of smoke from the days cremations mixed with the thick humidity. Our captain was very talkative and carried on telling us about the ghats and the history as we both gazed at the madness on shore and snapped photos. Suddenly there was a thud at the bow of the boat, immediately there was a foul odor that engulfed us. To my amazement the captain took his oar and began shoving a bloated cow out of the way, Sebastian got sick. I stared in disbelief as the cow slowly spun in the water towards shore. A dog jumped in the river and swam up to the cow, stood atop of it and began eating. I remember telling my self in a whisper "I need to get the fuck out of here".

The day I decided to pack my bags and move on.

Varanasi was beautiful, colorful, sad, happy, enlightening, and most of all real. I will never forget this experience as long as I live.

You may have wondered why I titled this "onion travel"? To me everything is like an onion, layers upon layers of flesh only leading on to the next. When you feel that you've conquered one layer it only opens up to another. This is life, travel, India, everything (in my opinion). I plan on sharing my stories as layers of my life and the adventures within them, a series if you will.

As much as I wish I could say I've been blogging my memories for years, I have not. Pure amazement at how well I can re-live these moments in my mind by typing them out. I can feel the weather on my skin, smell the air, remember the rush, recollect the emotions in their entirety. I think I'm onto something special, for me, and in turn for those interested in reading these stories. I have been holding (remember to HODL 😄) my memories in my mind and on a hard drive for years, I think its time to take some profit (shameless crypto analogy). This is a perfect opportunity to digest my experiences one by one and learn once again the lesson within them. I hope all of you enjoy this as much as I will.

Feel free to ask questions, make suggestions, or share your experiences with me. We are all in this onion together!