batch 2

'If you dont like Pani Puri you don't deserve to be called an Indian' - Food poster slogan.

Good morning Varanasi

Varanasi promised us sun, Ghats, evening Arti’s and gentle boat rides down the Ganges. Unfortunately this was not to be. The weather was changeable, finally developing into full scale monsoon, the Ghats were submerged, the Arti’s were constricted to a rooftop unless rained off and all boats were banned from the Ganges due to the speed it was travelling.

So we explored Varanasi Town. The Southern section of the city is primarily the Weavers Quarters and home to many temples. The lanes are filled with cows who are fed milk and chapatis on paper plates by the locals. Both the dogs and the cows appear well nourished. Many houses have patterns painted around their doors  - an informal invite to an imminent wedding.

We found a wrestling school, where the boys were busy training using traditional apparatus, likes lumps of concrete on wood sticks. How they swung that round their heads I have no idea.

The Weavers Quarters is a mixture of hand and machine loom weaving. The Muslim weavers live and work  in their own homes and sell their fabrics through a local co-operative, this looks far better than the sweat houses that we saw in Delhi. The dark homes provide a cool shelter from the humid heat, the wooden looms lit by a single bulb. The high-quality silk saris and pashminas are stunning, the colours so vibrant, they literally glowed in the dim light. Each weaver had their music on and took pride in their work. Each item takes about 2 weeks to create with their complex patterns and multitude of colours. The old wooden looms  are either manual or have been semi-automated with the addition of punch hole cards to create the patterns. 

Punch-hole cards hanging over the loom

Stretching the silk to make it as thin as possible ready for weaving.

The finished silk saris’ hang out to dry.

Time for Chai.

'Either I will find a way, or I will make one' - Philip Sidley. Quote found in my teabag wrapper

Through an organisation called PETE, we gained access into a textile factory, located in a working class area in Delhi. Like many of the factories here, the workers live in fear of losing their jobs because their bosses wont pay their taxes. These sorts of factories are always under threat should an inspector call. Bribes are paid to the officials to turn a blind eye, if not, they instantly close and the workers disappear and all evidence of the factory is gone in an instant.

The factory bosses pay no tax, officials gain healthy bribes and so it appears everyone wins  - except the workers of course.

Machinist Room with new young apprentice learning how to sew shirts.

Machinist Room with new young apprentice learning how to sew shirts.

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Machine Embroidery Room

Machine Embroidery Room

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Hand Embroidery Room.

Hand Embroidery Room.

Machinist room

Machinist room

Lunchtime, only one person remains - ironing.

Lunchtime, only one person remains - ironing.

'Life Without Biryani is Like No Life at All.' Delhi Bus-stop quote

The beginnings of a three month adventure, starting right here in New Delhi.

Rocky found us, as is the norm for rickshaw drivers touting for business. We had merely stepped off the Metro at Chandri Chowk and within seconds, Rocky talked us into going for a ride around town. His rickshaw magically appeared out of nowhere - just for an hour at our agreed cost. 

We saw a lot in our three hours plus overtime - Rocky’s prices, not ours. The journey was ridiculous, first through the gridlocked streets of Old Delhi, which has currently been dug up to be pedestrianised, in the near future. Then into the market lanes. It was quite unbelievable that Rocky even contemplated attempting to cycle a rickshaw down the lanes that are barely 2 meters wide, but motorcycles did it so why shouldn’t he? It was incredibly claustrophobic, loud, frantic and intimate  - right in people’s shops for just the briefest of moments.

Old Delhi High Street

Rickshaw through the Old Delhi Market Stalls

Rocky’s bike broke a coupe of times, so while it was being mended we explored the rooftops of the Chilli Exchange in the Spice Market. The views over Old Delhi are quite incredible.

Entrance to the Spice Market