Namaste and Hello from Varanasi!
Here is the home of Shiva and the River Ganga – many come here to ‘take a dip’ but judging from the wild animals (cows, monkeys, dogs and goats) wandering the shore, not to mention the ‘burning ghats’ (burning burials along river), not to mention general health and cleanliness issues I will give it a miss, still quite extraordinary to see and the seat of much ancient culture and wisdom – while i am here am studying the Raga music with a music guru and when i sing it is like BLIIIIIIIIISSSSS. That is, pretty fantastic. Me and Goddess and the universal source of all energy. Better than drugs and having tried a ‘bang lassi’ for first (and last time) in Pushkar – I have to say I prefer the singing.
Arrived three weeks ago and it FEELS like an absolute lifetime has passed. Glasgow is a far far far distant memory. Nothing could prepare me truly for this trip.
India is not firm. Not solid. Not real. Things which should be are not. Things that happen do not. A chaotic jumble of past present and future. Of the dreaming and the waking. A sensory overload of sights smells feeling and intuition. Dropped into the midst of it all one can never be prepared – not with the correct footwear or the immunizations – not with books films or conversations – what is immediately familiar is a deluge to the self. To the western traveler – without buffer of packaged tour- the sensibility of alone and individual the necessary surrender to the heartbeat like being naked in a snowstorm and suddenly – is exposing, painful and necessary. The ego cannot cling to a ghost, the illusion you had cloaked yourself with – you become one blood cell among many.
What can I say about my first three weeks? Trains, buses and auto rickshaws take me around and between Delhi , Jaipur, Pushkar, Agra and now Varanasi . From Bollywood meets MTV Delhi-ite 21st birthday extravaganzas to cold bucket baths. Cows, monkeys, camels merge with motorbike drivers preparing for Indie500 to the cacophony of auto horns and hawking of goods, men sleep how and where they choose, on traffic islands, perched on top of bicycles, legless old women push themselves about on carts begging, small children with months of dirt on their Oxfam castoffs chase at your feet begging, gypsies offer their hands in friendship but actually are begging, male shop owners, guest house operators and auto drivers offer their ‘help’ but actually only see you for your money – white skin, female sex you are helpless to their views.
At times I adopt marriage as a guise with my traveling companion Andrew Margolies Mezvinsky (www.lostartist.org) who is also on artistic journey in India studying traditional dying techniques for his paintings. This goes against my feminist leanings initially (bless Andrew for playing along!) but makes things easier overall, even when we go our separate ways. Women are understood and respected as wives and shoppers – although shoppers might come first in that list….again a struggle to only be seen in relation to another, but I am getting on despite it all. And even despite these observations – in which you may assume I am having a horrible time with the extremity of it all – it is without a doubt an extraordinary full of beautiful people with the truest hearts and I am loving the journey – so much so that I have decided to extend my stay through March.
So that is how it is as a woman – human – spirit. I am myself and not myself. And so enters art. My beginning time in India has included an introduction to the Odissi and Kalbelia dances in Pushkar and instruction on classical Indian ragas in Varanasi . Odissi is an ancient dance from Orissa which was originally practiced by the nuns in the temples. Kalbelia is a gypsy dance, performed by the tribe of the same name who are also snake charmers. It is partially where flamenco derives and was my first inspiration to come to India . The shared theme in all these; and what interests me most is the merging between soul and form. The practice/process is the authentic expression of the art, there is no ‘end-point’, no commodity to drive towards. This contradicts a western capitalist sensibility. But for me is a necessary continuing point for drawing parallels to film. Film which is based entirely on hierarchy, and product. If we create a process of making film which dissolves the hierarchy, which – not unlike Wagner’s concepts of “Gesamtkunstwerk” (total art) wherein each part and contributor has equal importance the process fed by a desire to connect and create – what then? Film is a baby in its practice, these dances ancient and yet also have a physical/psychic process so for me the best possibility for learning.
Tomorrow I train to Puri to continue my dance training. A twenty four hour train journey which no doubt will have it’s own adventures to be experienced and shared!
Wishing you a most blessed day and happiness within- and thanks for all the lovely well wishes I have recieved for this trip and for me. You inspire me to continue.
Love,
Kate E.