Varanasi - my first venture into urban India

First of all, kudos to the Indian rail system. I took a 22-hour ride for under $30, and it was air-con, a comfortable sleeper bunk, safe, and sheets were provided (including an extra one when I threw up into my bedsheet in the middle of the night... and I thought I'd defy all odds and get through 6 weeks in India without puking. Oh well).

My first impression of Varanasi, from the train window: everything is greyish brown - the houses, the horizon, the people, the clothes, even the trees and their leaves are brown from dirt and dust. And a related second observation: urban poverty is very, very different from rural poverty (dirtier, louder, and once you get out into it, definitely more in-your-face). From the train, Varanasi also seemed to be crumbling - the bricks from the roofs and walls of buildings taken down one by one to throw as weights onto the canvas or corrugated tin roofs of the thousands of make-shift huts crammed into the city's gutters and corners.

My first day in the city was overwhelming. I sent this email to my parents:
I'm not sure why I was (and still am) so overwhelmed... I think I just wasn't prepared for real urbanness in India. And Varanasi is so touristy, both for westerners and Indians, that there are a kadrillion touts and annoying men and boys following you and asking you questions and/or trying to sell things. I think the real problem is that I've been very concerned with taking the advice of 'not trusting anyone', and this gets really exhausting and isolating. Not only do I want to be able to chat with a local without ending up feeling pressured to take an overpriced boat-ride, buy some postcards, or buy some kid's British 2-pound piece for 130 rupees (they get coins as souvenirs but know exactly what they're worth!), but also in such a holy place as Varanasi I really want to be able to talk with or at least observe some of the Baba's, the ascetic spiritual men, without worrying about all the aggressive, phony ones. I've also found that you can't stop moving for a second, without being hassled. It makes for a tiring few days. I also don't like taking out my camera very often, since people notice and then bug you for money or more photos, and also I don't want to advertise that I have valuables on me (being alone). Overall, solo travelling's been an adventure. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I'm dejected, sometimes I don't know what to do with myself (like right now, hence time for long emails!). On my own, the lows are much lower, like this evening, I almost cried when my guesthouse told me for the second time that their lending library "didn't open for another hour" - meanwhile they were all sitting around doing nothing. Not a big deal, I know, and then fifteen minutes later I was all happy and relaxed, sitting down by the Ganges on the ghats, watching the nightly Hindu ceremony. Ups and downs.