Where do I even start?

Alright, so much has happened the past couple of days I really don't know where to begin. This will be really lengthy, but I'm going to break it up the best way I know how. So read as you see fit.

P.S. My laptop died, it's matay. I'm on the hotel computer. Maybe it's going to laptop heaven now that it's died in India.. shrug. This also means posting pictures may take a while.

-Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
-Mahanagari Express!! (Train ride)
-Varanasi: The Holy Hindu City

Bangalore/Ahmadabad bombings
As I was on the train from Bombay to Varanasi on the 25th there was a series of bombing in Bangalore. The next day, while still on the train, there was another bombing in Ahmadabad. The bombings claimed 45 lives and injured hundreds. These are cities far from where I'm at. An Indian group claims responsibility but there are fingers pointing to Pakistan and Islamic groups. Attacks such as these are not new to India and have been aimed mostly at religious institutions. The country is apparently in a state of panic but the streets of Bombay bustle just the same as I have left. I suppose it takes much more than death to shake up this city, I have no interest in finding out what will. They've buffed up security at all airports & train stations but they are facing a shortage of officers. I have been disconnected from any form of news the past couple of days so a lot of this is still registering.

Mahanagri Exress #1093/4: The Train Ride
"MAA-HA-nah-GAH-ree (roll the R) Express!!!" I have that stuck in my head. I caught the train to Varanasi at 12:10am. I had a yelling fit with another bureaucrat (I seem to have that quite often here). He said that my ticket wasn't valid despite having my confirmation number and all. Long story short, I had to get another ticket. I was determined to get to Varanasi!
My new ticket only allowed me into General Seating. Meaning, no sleeping berths, just wooden benches. An elderly man pleaded with me to go to the Women's Compartment.
For a total of 31 uncomfortable hours, I spent 12 of them sleeping on a wooden chair and the other 19 on a wooden plank 7ft off the ground that was meant to serve as a shelf for luggage. It's all good cause mothers trust me enough to play with their children as the mothers sleep. I became the unofficial au pair of the compartment.
I vowed not to use the bathroom for the supposed 28 hours (really 31) as these trains are not luxury trains as you can imagine. But when you have to go, you have to go. I was cracking up in the bathroom and as I was hysterically laughing I was thinking, "What are you doing venturing off alone in a country where you don't understand the language and they regard you as crazy!? You're in a train for 28 hours, sleeping on a wooden plank & you're popping a squat in a train with a smell that is probably chemically burning your clothes!!! REALLY NOW!?" I had to pull myself together because as I was walking out women were pulling their young ones close to them. I think the door was thinner than my apartment walls (I didn't think it was possible).
Coming back the train ride was less eventful. But the train station was not! The Varanasi Foreign Tourist Center (a little redundant if you ask me) was extremely helpful. I ended up staying over night because of some mix up. A lot of travelers were of European descent. No overseas husband just yet. hah!
Hours later, I am trying to call the fambam. I have to fight my way to keep my spot in line but when I finally get to the phone it won't work. The phone attendant chooses to ignore me and as I'm yelling for attention the phone is snagged out of my hand! The guy next to me says in an Indian accent, "Fight for it, otherwise you won't get anything." As I turn, I'm in awe. In front of me is a brown skinned, brown eyed Toby (from Hidmo). I am speechless. Toby, being one of the most dreamiest guys I know, has an Indian twin! Who also happens to be my phone-knight-in-shinning-armour. He grabs the phone back, picks up my pad to dial the number I need. Then walks away coolly. I convince myself that he is going to the Hidmo of India.

Varanasi: "Older than history, older than tradition, older than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together" Mark Twain on Varanasi
I really have to give you an abridged version of my time spent there. I'm still processing the oldest and one of the holiest cities in the world. I spent 2 days at the great Hindu city. My tour guide, Anil, explains to me that Varanasi is most famous for five things:
1. The Holy River: The Ganges River. It is common to see people bathe themselves in the river as it is known to absolve all their sins. Dead babies are floating along the river as it guarantees them a ticket to heaven. No doubt my boat ride at dawn has proven so.. the dead babies at least, I can only hope they're in heaven.
2. The Burning Ghats: There are two well known burning ghats, the most popular and biggest one of them is the Manikarnika Ghat. They publicly cremate bodies. I cannot begin to explain how something so frightening can be so sacred. There are 365 ghats along the Ganges River. I remember because I like to believe they built a ghat every day of the year.
3. The Temples: Anil said there are 99.1 temples in Varanasi. I don't know if this is true or how he got .1 but he also said that every home is a temple. I especially liked the Durga Temple (dedicated to the Hindo God, Shiva's wife who has 9 heads).
4. The small streets: I hated this. It was a maze of alley ways that made it impossible for me to remember where my hostel was. It scared me too. I never left the hostel without Anil.
5. Moghul Town: Silk: Varanasi is a huge silk exporter. They make and sell silk wholesale. I got to see a Muslim town where they hand made silk from old school looms. It was beautiful.
From there, I wanted to move on to Gaya to see the Bodhi Tree (a sapling of the tree where Buddha gained enlightenment) but I was strongly advised not to go because of the bombings. The little Buddhist in me cried. But it was all good because there was a yearning to learn more about Hinduism. It was funny because right as I was leaving Varanasi I was also just finishing Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald. I'll reflect on the book in another entry but this was the passage that I thought was fate that I should read right as I was leaving:

Of all the wild, mad, hair-raising stops in my spiritual journey through the subcontinent, the most holy Hindu city of them all has branded itself on me most boldly: Varanasi on the Ganges. Downstream from Kumbh Mela and upstream from hell, it's a city that attracts the faithful and the freaks and those dying or being bid farewell. Souls sent from this place on earth go straight to heaven. A few weeks ago, on a hotel roof above India's holiest city, Jonathan and I inhaled clods of hash spiced with wafts of singed hair and burning bodies. We walked among Varanasi's rats, dogs and street urchins as they competed for garbage in a maze of twisting dark alleyways and stained palaces that rot into the black mud. At dawn we floated in a wooden boat past candles, flowers and human ashes in holy waters littered with bobbing bloated bodies.

I knew I was at the right place and apparently Sarah Macdonald is telling me the same thing through spiritual wavelengths.