From my journal. 21 Sept 2011/ Haridwar, India
What a place. A complicated mess of humanity and religion on the banks of the Ganges. The city is a chaotic cluster flanking the river as it first emerges from the Himalayas. The streets are a collection of Hindu pilgrims, sadhus, spiritual men, vendors, beggars, and lost souls. Lining the banks of the river are numerous ghats, or quays, of long steps into the swiftly flowing waters. It is a religious tradition for the Hindus to bathe here, and there is a collection of people in various states of undress, accomplishing their religious devotions. I changed hotels this morning and am lingering in my new room for a bit to have some food and let it cool down outside before setting out to take a look.
After lunch I explored Haridwar for a few hours. It was an encounter with an unknown and exotic place. I walked along the water’s edge and watched the pilgrims bathe in the Ganges. The city itself is a heap of crowded streets, impossibly busy markets and winding medieval alleys filled with Hindu religious items and dhabas baking sweet breads and naan. I took a few hours to try and soak it in and photograph it well. I’m much more comfortable now, and skillful, with brushing aside the unwelcome attention of touts on the street so it feels more pleasant walking around here than it did in Delhi. Even though this place is equally as dense with people and the mess of urban activity.
At sunset I wandered down to the main ghat along the Ganges and witnessed the Gangaa Aatri, which is a ceremony performed by the Hindu faithful at the water’s edge. There was chanting, ringing bells, huge offerings lit ablaze and floating offerings of flower petals adrift on the water. Thousands of people were clustered along the shore on the steps of the ghat, pressing forward to place their offerings on the water. It was an impressive sight, and for me this is the epitome of what India is.
It is a mess of humanity that somehow works. The crowds are enormous, but the individuals are remarkable. For all the anonymity of such a vast population, the faces of the people indicate an individuality that although subdued, is not lost. They are engulfed in the mass of their nation, yet each face retains a presence. This makes the streets of India all the more overwhelming. Crowds are easier to endure when the faces that flow past are easily overlooked, but not here. The quantity is in itself overwhelming, yet I find myself trying to process and appreciate the people within the crowds. I don’t feel capable. I can’t just relegate their faces to an anonymous blur of humanity. I register their existence as individuals, and therefore am much more deeply affected by the enormous human presence that has engulfed me.
