a deal...

waste, assi ghat, varanasi, 19th march 2012

he was ideal. eloquent, intelligent, smart, teenager, eager and living in my area. and I met him again,

raul.

the first time i met raul was in a restaurant. he came with a woman, white, had some food. did not hear any conversation. only thought- what are they talking about?

the second time i met raul on the way home with asmita and alka. after eating we went home and stopped. said he saw us again. i was the German lady. spoke about boat rides and if we want to do it and that it would cost very little. He talked about experience in varanasi, asked a lot of questions.

he rode on his too big bike next to us and seems so major. we said yes to the boat ride.

the fourth time I saw him a day later,

 you missed the boatride. I said.

he said I know. and told me first about something, than about his brother would have done him something in his drink. Some sayings. i was not interested if he was lying or not, but wanted to talk to him. an interview. ideally a project. I was happy to see him.

The last time I saw him was after the interview. we argued about money. kind of.

raul's brother or cousin, assi ghat, varanasi, 19th march 2012

he asked me for 5 euro note. I said yes. He asked if he could have it

I said no I could not gave it him cause I would not pay people i interview. out of principle. so he asked if he could borrow it.  for a friend.

So I agreed. and then it went on and on. asked if he could keep it after showing it to his freinds, i offered him a deal to give sth back to me instead, thinking help both out of the dilemma, him saying it might get stolen. Me saying he should give it back if he cannot be responsible enough. and on and non. so at the end he asked to borrow money for food. I said tomorrow he said you do not trust me, we argued and finally we left each other.

trees, assi ghat, varanasi, 19th march 2012

not giving money in photography is important.  the person should not give time, thoughts, for getting money back. getting something else back, self-awareness, confidence, proudness, and a voice. But not money. Changes the idea. So important. also for other photographers.

but he spend his time, his commitment, did not go and searched for people to go on his boat tour. what if has definition from journalism is different. give and take. always. for him money?

is the idea to do something purely out of own will not just a western idea, based on content and fulfilled living. having the ability to do something which does not involve money and looking after your life? Having the freedom to enjoy this kind of luxury. 

I always ask myself what would I do. a person come, sucks information out of me, and leaves and earn money.

what do I get? A voice. A possibility to be seen.

he is apparently the oldest in the family. he dad does not work and he has to earn the living. Not sure if i believe him.

raul, assi ghat, varanasi, 19th march 2012

along the ganges

kiteguy, along the ghat, varanasi, march 2012

guys and chairs, along the ghat, varanasi, march 2012

a haircut, along the ghat, varanasi, march 2012

kiteboy 2, along the ghat, varanasi, march 2012

watching, along the ghat, varanasi, march 2012

a special issue....

intermezzo 1

i felt so sick. i layed on the bed and could not move. cramps and weekness. but better than running to the toilet than every other minute.

clothes, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

i am sure i got a bug. last thrusday i ate three burgers, from the street. three burgers!

at the beginning when i came to bangaldesh i was highly overprotective of food. i did not anything from the street. nothing. and if so just when one of the guys form drik were with me. just in case. so i would not suffer alone at least.

when i came to kolkata i was still a bit conscious. kept the rules of no dairy, everything hotly made and just stuff i used to eat in the past and nothing in oil. i was fine.

then i came to varanasi and it got slippery. i was just all the time fine. so why not eat something here or there.

apparently everybody who comes to varansi gets ill. just too many cows, too much shit, to many flies. i understand. makes sense. kind of afterwards.

asmita, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

intermezzo

clothes, sigra, varanasi, march 2012

bike, sigra, varanasi, march 2012

hanging, somewhere in varanasi, march 2012

cow, assi lanka, hanging, varanasi, march 2012

a bit out of the ordinary...

bottles with plants, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

Rain is very unusual for this time of the year, alka says, asmita says. It does not rain like that, not in march. That is time for in the monsoon. Maybe the climate change? They say.

plugs, curtain, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

We came back to the little hotel we stayed, just got in, it started incredible to rain. In some points there were thunders and lightening and thick hails went down the sky. We sat on the rooftop, blanket, tea, no light. Another power cut, because of the rain. Not sure. But also not very unusual. power cuts happens very often. Last night also. Deliberate it seems. Some people say it is because over usage of too many people. Bad distribution others.

asmita, curtain, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

alka, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

I do not know. It is just as it is. And actually I enjoy it. Makes us sit together, rather being in individuals rooms. Talking about things we never talked about, sharing the same experience with the other guest keeper and the other guests. It is nice, make me fell being part of something special.

curtain, guesthouse, varanasi, march 2012

from another perspective...

First I thought he is the son of the house. Later alka told e he is working there. He said, I am going home now. So alka assumed.

He is 9 years, I suppose. I talk with him often. His English is excellent, self-confident and very bright.  I needed to get my clothes from the string on the rooftop. It was all piled up in the corner. He ran there, wanted to help me. He puled out al the clothes, bra, shirt, trousers. Loved. I just knocked my head.

I started to work in my parents business when I was 7. I can still remember that I had to use the dish machine and the button to turn it on was to high up for me so I had to ask somebody to help me.  Sometimes I started to cry, because my friends did not have to work. I had to, every summer, as a dishwasher, then as a waitress, every day, lunch and dinner. Just for four hours my parents would say. Those days I cried sometimes, cause my friends did not have to work and I had to.

Now I understand. It is a family business. to employ somebody for my work would not be possible in terms of financability. It was hard, and sometimes it was annoying. But it was ok and I learned so many thing other did not. Was it good or not, I do not know? I am just me now, no comparison.

child labor is a difficult subject. As well as in the western world as well as in india officially forbidden it exist everywhere. And it is good, but also dangerous to generalize. 

 

His English is excellent. What does he want to be? Does it matter? I don’t know if all these questions are applicable. I do not know if I actually would like to ask him. Maybe he never thought about his future as such, maybe he is happy in whatever bubble he is, maybe I do not want to be part of changing the bubble, bursting it.

I am very careful nowadays; do not want to leave damage behind me, just because I think it is important, for me, not for him.

after all...

boat, harishandra ghat, varanasi, 12th march 2012

in varanasi it is good to die, apparently., say they. if you die here you get striaght into nirvana.

that's amazing as i find. you can be a bad person all your life and then you just land here and wait till it is over and then all your sins- or however they call it here- will be finsihed.

thats pritty cool.

man, harishandra ghat, varanasi, 12th march 2012

today there are a lot of funerals. did not count them, just sat in the lassi store and saw all teh bodies being carried on a wooden board down the pathway to the ganges.

dead bodies will be burned here. in front of the ganges. on huge pile of wooden sticks, accompanied with a lot of people, relatives and tourists. first they walk through varanasi, a specific route, along the lassi store, and then down to the ganges. they settle the body, covered with golden and orange textiles, on the big pile of wood and then burn it.

there are a lot of rituals in between, they must. i did not see them. went there but left quickly, was suppossed to see a friend.

i am sorry.

bag, harishandra ghat, varanasi, 12th march 2012

ganga, harishandra ghat, varanasi, 12th march 2012

death is something unpredictable, harsh and mean, it does not leave anybody out, it does not choose and seems so much like it. it is what it is. a fact  and the only thing you can honor, and greeve.

i am at the moment a bit surrounded by it.  it makes me speechless, seems like the only way is to stop talking about it and honour.

legs, harishandra ghat, varanasi, 12th march 2012

i left the assi store, and went over the funeral place ack, just wanted to see. stood far ahead and took images of other thing.

a guy was shouting. honor the death people. coming up to me, leaving his game he was just playing. i knwo i know. he did not stop. no camera no camera, honour the death,

that i would not know.

a blue lassi in a green room...

shelve, blue lassi, varanasi, march 2012

He was looking after the broken television. He did not repair them. He said so but I did not see any tools, except a pile of old televisions. Somebody wanted to sit on them, immediately a guy came and removed her. Gave her instead another seat.

I was in the lassi store with a friend and his friend, in his little shop, because in the lassi store there was no space for us, too full. i met a friend there, for having a chat. I met him yesterday, when we, me and my girls where there, for a lassi. He just came sat down in front of me and said hi. I did not expect him, ever, and above all not at 4 pm Sunday in this specific lassi store in varanasi, india. He is a work colleague of mine, from an old place where I used and still use to work in England. He was not a close friend, somebody I knew. The place where I worked was full of people who love to travel. Just one of these places, which allows people to do that. So him. I knew he loves India, and the world is small, but so small. Still incredible. So we met up for another lassi the next day.

The lassi day is famous. I did not know, probably as alka. But not so the lonely planet world. At least what the old man says after sitting for an hour silent next to us, then giving us a chai and starting to talk with us.

He was the father of the owner and the television repair shop next door. He was very proud, told us about his father who used to be an actor and really famous, he told us about his sun having his store and that it was quoted in the lonely planet. He smiled. I just said. Propyl your sun is as famous as your dad. He just knocked laughed out loud and smiled.

dad, blue lassi, varanasi, march 2012

economics.

man, lali ghat, varanasi, march 2012

Tourism is a funny thing. If there is no tourism people aspire it, if there is too much people they hate it and if tourism goes, they cry after and tell everybody how good where the times.

seller, halishandra ghat, varanasi, march 2012

tourists, lali ghat, varanasi, march 2012

I come from a touristic area. In the 60s established and recognized by tourist in the 80s and a bit in the 90s it was the melting point. People came and over floated all our tiny village, all the restaurant were open, people who used to have a fame built for them big hotels and gave up there farm and a big indoor swimming pool was build for entertainment reasons. Now in the 21^st century people are not coming anymore. The streets are empty, shops are closing down and my dad, who used to ran around 24 hours is getting quiet and sometimes a bit restless.

phoning, near harishandra ghat, varanasi, march 2012

legs, varanasi, march 2012

I know how much tourism is important. Our area was one of the poorest in germany, it was a farm area, but we do not have the best soil, and the forest is too small. The mountains not so high. So tourism was for us to bring us out of the situation.

I love my area, it is my home and as much as I love it I love my family. And for them work does not just mean money, but identity, pride. So I understand.

seller, sigra, varanasi, march 2012