The Cricket World Cup is being played in South Africa right now and India is doing very well. Cricket is massive in India and I feel like I can confidently speak with the locals about the latest matches and India's hopes of lifting the title. In Burma I was concerned that my English was getting worse. Often when talking to people with a rudimentary knowledge of English John or I would talk child-like English and refrain from using complicated words and often missed out unnecessary words altogether; "I am New Zealand man", "You are well?", "How long train Hsipaw?". Occasionally we would talk to each other using simplified English before realising what we were doing. But India is different because I am fluent in the language of cricket and everybody loves to talk about it. The Indian players are revered as demigods and appear in numerous television commercials and city billboards. Cricket is big business here and much is expected of the Indian team each time they play. Along the Ghats in Varanasi scores of children play cricket throughout the day, fetching the ball out of the Ganges each time it gets hit into it. In the evening men play more organised games, often for money, always with a lot of passion.
I spent three days in Varanasi with Beppe wandering along the ghats and through the many alleyways. I got more accustomed to seeing burning bodies beside the river, although the ones that were not shrouded were always more gruesome to watch. I got more accustomed but I didn't ever feel very comfortable. I played a few games of cricket with kids on the wide ghat steps but each time I hit the ball it seemed to go in the river. By day we were offered boat rides, by night it was hash, always good hash. When I quipped that I only smoked bad hash one mans eyes lit up and he beamed a huge smile, "Oh, I have bad hash too sir. How much would you like?"
After Varanasi I had a few options but each would take me in vastly different directions. I could head south towards Goa and spend some time on the beach. I could go west towards Delhi and spend a month in Rajasthan. I had come from the east and decided to put off Bangladesh until later but I was pulled to the north, to Nepal, the mountain kingdom.
I bought a bus ticket to Sunauli for Rs250, and then another to Pokhara in Nepal for Rs200.
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