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As we got off the train in Haridwar we were swarmed by people. "taxi madam", "rickshaw", "700 rupee", "600 rupee", "500 rupee", the price dropping with each step further we take. We head across the busy street to a small restaurant we read about in trip advisor.
The staff at the Dosa Plaza were very friendly. They handed us menus as soon as we got seated and gave us a complimentary glass of water. Although we did not drink it as we were unsure how filtered it was. They had a lot of good Indian vegetarian food to offer at good prices. They even had my favourite dish Rajik Masala which was a mix of kidney beans and a tomato and spices paste. They also had Ambers favourite which was Palak Paneer. A mixture of spinach and cottage cheese.
The total bill with 2 cans of coke and 2 naans totaled 300 rupee. $1.50 each. Not bad for a good meal.
We had researched some places in Haridwar to visit and caught the rickshaw to a place called Har Ki Pauri. A monument situated on the backs of the river Ganges. As the rickshaw took a turn off the main road I felt like I entered a different universe. We were on a dirt road track and to both sides of me, as far as the eye could see, were villages made up of tents where people slept. I could see clothes hung up on lines connected from tree to tree and it became clear that these people were all homeless
The rickshaw dropped us at the end of the road and said we needed to walk the extra way as there was no access by car, so we handed the driver 100 rupee ($2),hopped off, bags on our backs as we were on our way to Rishikesh, and began walking to the bridge that went over the Ganges.
As we crossed the bridge we got a great view of the river. There were people on the banks bathing just like I had seen in the pictures. The water was not very clean but also not as dirty as I had imagined.
On the bridge there were many beggars but it wasn't until we got to the other side where my heart started to melt.
There were beggars everywhere, people with lost limbs, bandaged wounds, old and young. I believe they come to this place to cleanse themselves with water from the Ganges in hope that the gods provide them with savior.
My heart went out to them as I covered my head and white skin with my scarf to avoid the stares.
Here in a place so far away from my perfect world was so many people with nothing at all except the faith that Mother Ganga will help them. At this point it became unbearable to me as I felt a tear stream down my face and an empty feeling in my stomach.
As we walked up the stairs to the bridge I could hear the sound of tins rattling in hope of some small change. We got to the top and stood at the railing of the bridge. I looked down to see so many at the waters edge, cleansing themselves, putting offerings of flowers into the water, getting blessed by the Ganges.
We saw a small temple with a man accepting donations and providing people with a red string around their wrists. This intrigued us so we head back down the stairs to get a closer look.
When he saw us approach he told us to remove our shoes and invited us in. We crouched through the small opening into a small room filled with many worship statues and the bald man dressed in monks clothing. He drew a small bowl of red paste and placed a red mark on both our foreheads. He then placed orange flowers in our hands, told us to put them together and pray as he chanted. He later explained that he was blessing us and our family's for good health and prosperity and happiness. I couldn't help but think that we weren't the ones who needed these things, but the people outside.
The man then poured a small amount of water into our hand to drink. Water from the Ganges! He then handed us a small ball of what looked like dough covered in sugar so we did what any polite traveler would do as they sat in a small temple by the Ganges, and ate the food. It wasn't too bad as I looked at Amber and she mumbled 'Please don't let me die'. I was laughing to myself at the situation at hand. We waited half an hour after that for the signs of a stomach ache but all was well in the world and we went on our way.
In the distance we could see a huge statue that we wanted to get some pictures with so we ventured off in that direction. After walking a little while and getting hassled a bit on the way I decided it was time to head to Rishikesh. We crossed to the other side of the road in the direction of Rishikesh and waited for a way to get there. At this stage we were unsure which way was best, whether by bus or taxi, so the helpful rickshaw drivers told us that the bus was best.
Before a Bus came by, a rickshaw stopped carrying 4 passengers. The rickshaws in Haridwar were a little bigger with room for 6 people in the back instead of 3 and room for 3 people in the front instead of 1. I thought there wouldn't be enough room for us and our bags but apparently the rules that apply are 'squish in!'.
Not only did we fit in with our bags but also managed to pick 3 more people along the way. Squashed in the back practically sitting on each others laps and with 2 men with half their bodies out the entry door we make our way north to Rishikesh. I'm secretly glad my back is turned to the front of the car as I hear loud horns and feel us swerve and I'm grateful I can't see what's in front of us.
The driver drops us a small way after central Rishikesh, tries to rip us off yet again and we disembark just as I can see the beautiful Parmath Niketan Ashram over the rickety wire bridge on the banks of the river Ganges.
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