Orissa, like Gujurat, was high on my list because I had hoped to find the India of my imagination, rather than the one that actually is. The state presented me with several obstacles. The relatively deficient tourist infrastructure leads to high priced taxi chartering and such to see the highlights. Being stingy I opted to just chill on the beach with a couple of day trips tossed in.
The first, about 10 days into my stay was to Konark, famous for its sun temple. I wasn't really impressed. Back in the day, before it was a ruin it also happened to be very near the shore. I'm sure it was much better then.
From there I headed to some village I don't know the name of. Traveling a narrow path not much wider than a sidewalk for over 20 km, I passed some spectacular, yet typical Orissan village life. The countryside was either beautiful or absolutely harsh, or both, and it wasn’t even summer here. I eventually found myself on the outer limits of one such village. It’s moments like these, when you've just put yourself through hell on Indian public transportation and step into silence and the 16th century, that you know why someone comes here.
Puri, the seaside village where I spent a vast majority of my time, just studying, working out, eating okay, and getting some sun, was a good place to both recuperate from too much time in Delhi and also rest for the upcoming trip through UP, Bihar, and up to Sikkim. The people were great and even the most poor seemed to know English, which is unusual in India. It opened a new world to me, being able to communicate with them and develop friendships over my two weeks there. I won't bore you with details but the conversations ranged from the day to day difficulties endured by the small-time chai-walla on the street, whose hygiene was terrifying but whose personality was great, to the inside scoop, from a woman no less, on who's sleeping with who. Fascinating stuff.
Something I don't wanna forget is the discussion I had at the above mentioned chai stand with a neighboring businessman. There was some westerner wandering the town whose gender was questionable. I mean, she was a giant. Bigger than me, housin, and yet had bigger "things" than most women. Her gait, her posture, her face, everything about her said she wasn't a female, except her clothes and "things". This other shop owner, after she had passed, asked me, "Is that a man or a woman?" I had to laugh because I was struggling to figure it out myself. In LA its normal, but here, and not hijra? I told him I think it’s a she. He said, "But he looks like a man." I agreed, but insisted she be considered a woman. He said, "I will ask when he comes back." I was cracking up, and told him that probably wasn't a good idea, but he wanted to know why. So I tried to explain that in our society such an intrusive question could be very offensive. He replied, in all sincerity, "But I need to know. How am I supposed to call him to my shop? Sir? Maam? It is a problem." Is that shit funny or did you have to be there?
I had made plans to wake early the next day and go explore the old city. I had heard that it was quite special. As luck would have it I woke about 4:30 am. It was the day after India's last cricket match. I had gone to bed before the game ended, and at this hour everyone was of course still sleeping, and I was locked in the hotel. I prodded the dude sleeping near the door. He kind of woke up and said "fuck India". I understood then that they had lost, and that he wasn't awake yet. Eventually I got the key.
I set out in search of some supposedly famous place of Krishna worship but never found it. I did manage to happen upon a cremation ground and my rickshaw-walla arranged for me to take some photos. I was so close to the heat that even at 6 am I was sweating like Delhi in July. I don't know. Somehow these images aren't the same once you've experienced it before. I hung my head equally in respect and shame as I departed.
On my way out of Puri I passed the village of Dhauri or something. Here Asoka placed an edict announcing his acceptance of Buddhist principles and encouraging the people here to also adopt dhamma, or non-violence and righteousness and etc., as their way of life. I think he stopped short of crediting his destruction of these people as instrumental in his conversion, and later Buddhists are said to have embellished the story to propagate the teaching. This is not to diminish Asoka's sincerity or anything.
