Though they had slept no more than 5 hours the kids woke like clockwork and didn’t sleep any more in the trip to Varanasi. We all got out at Allahabad at 900am for tea and pose for pictures on the platform of the city where Nate spent many of his younger years. Kevin and Jen made local evening news by diligently scrubbing their window clean as Indians shook their heads in shock and awe. Mose and Nate wandered up to the front of the train to chat with the driver of the big electric engine. They were told the journey was 3 hours long and the train would depart in “5-10 minutes”. The first fact was right. The latter was not. Almost immediately the train started to pull out of the station as Esther, Yvonne and Mose and Nate ran for bogie B1. Esther was thrown into the door as Yvonne jumped on and grabbed a startled Mose. Nate hopped on to be assailed as a ‘fool’ by the family.
Just before just about missing the train
Noon came and went and by 1230 we pulled painfully into Varanasi. Jen and Yvonne had caught some Z’s on the way but the rest were feeling pretty wired. An hour’s trip across Varanasi in a poorly built van driven by a brave Shamsher (“Driving in this town is a big accomplishment,” he reported to no one in particular about half way through the trip). Once more we found our hotel to be of a good standard. This time right on the banks of the Ganges at the southern-most ghat of Varanasi’s 84: Assi Ghat.
Driving in Varanasi is a big accomplishment
Garlanded with marigolds the group retired to the rooftop restaurant for lunch. It was a lovely day. A gentle breeze blew off the Ganges and though the sky was hazy the vista was wide and imposing, with spires of temples receding ever further into the horizon like the grand Himalayas themselves. Jen was exhausted by several nights of insufficient sleep so headed off to the basement for a sleep. The Rabe’s refused their triple room and got shunted to the very top of the hotel to a family room which was simply nothing short of spectacular.
Kevin and the Rabe’s walked in the afternoon up the ghats a way before the kids begged to go home. Kevin kept going until he reached the burning ghats where he was enthralled by the ritual and spectacle of Hindu cremation.
Back at the hotel the kids played cricket and the adults enjoyed a Kingfisher or three as the sun set. But Jen was feeling and looking worse by the minute and she was the first to retire to bed. After a pretty good dinner of fried rice and paneer pakoras and dal (‘this is a holy place, so we don’t provide onions, garlic, ginger or eggs or chicken’) the kids were readied for bed. Kevin said goodnight too.
Just about that time, Esther vomited. The next two and a half hours were spent in the Rabe’s running around Varanasi, from clinic to hospital, in rickshaws and in the cold night, looking for a doctor to assess what was wrong with Esther. She vomited a couple more times, once in the registry of BHU hospital, raising the stakes ever higher. Mose was walking about bravely like a big brother and supportive sibling who would really have rather been in bed.
At last a pediatrician examined Esther and prescribed ORS and water. Alas the pharmacy on the grounds of the hosptial had no such thing. So fed up, scared and tired, we stormed out of the hospital grabbed a rickshaw, raced to a pharmacy, bought some ORS and water (though at first the shopkeeper refused to break a Rs. 1000 note). We rushed home. Esther was asleep in Nate’s arms when he laid her back in the bed. Luckily she didn’t vomit any more in the night. Unluckily, Yvonne didn’t sleep at all, thinking of all the scenarios that could play out should Esther vomit again or deteriorate.
Mose summed up the day, later as “The worst night we’ve ever had.” True.
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