Chai Pilgrimage

“If we are not living an optimistic life, then what is there?”
- Veer Bhadra Mishra

Each morning, while the sun’s predawn glow radiates from below the horizon on the opposite shore of the Ganga, 60,000 bathers purify their souls in the holy river’s water along the ghats (steps to the river) of Benares.  At Tulsi Ghat, where the great poet-saint Tulsidas composed the popular version of the Hindi epic Ramayana 400 years ago, resides the modern-day spiritual warrior Veer Bhadra Mishra.  We joined Mishra in his unembellished room, stationed at the top of the long flight of steep stairs leading up from the river, like a sentinel post above the sacred Ganga. Now in his 60’s, the white-haired, white-clad Mishra, has been the mahant, or spiritual head, of the renowned Sankat Mochan Temple since the age of 14.  In addition to his duties as high priest and administrator of the temple, Mishra is also a hydraulics engineer who served as head of the civil engineering department at the prestigious Benares Hindu University.  These seemingly contrasting roles prepared the impassioned, yet calm and gentle Mishra to take on an even greater responsibility that he told us is “the mission of my life” – to clean up the heavily polluted River Ganga.

Although the Ganga is spiritually pure, endowed with the ability to cleanse sins and liberate souls, she is also exceedingly saturated with raw sewage dumped into the river along the 7-kilometer stretch of Benares. Wastewater and industrial contamination from upstream add the river’s dilemma, as well as animal carcasses and human remains that end up in the river because of families who could not afford wood for a proper cremation.  This noxious combination of toxins breeds a plethora of waterborne diseases including amoebic dysentery, cholera, hepatitis and typhoid.

Professor Mishra told us that despite these health dangers, people continue to bathe because of the centuries-old intimate relationship between traditional Hindu culture and the river, “They cannot live without Ganga as a fish cannot live without water.  For them Ganga is divine, Ganga is Goddess.  Looking at her with devotion, touching her water, submerging our body into her waters and sipping that water will give you Bhukti and Mukhti – will give you well being in this world and salvation after you leave.”  But he also warned, “If they go on using the polluted water, at some point they will die, and with them this culture associated with Ganga.  This tradition and these endangered species of human beings will be over.”

Motivated by immense love and respect for Ganga, in 1982 Mishra spearheaded the formation of the Sankat Mochan Foundation.  Sankat Mochan is a name for the Hindu deity Hanuman and literally means “the reliever of dangers and difficulties.” Their vision is to restore the Ganga by alleviating deteriorating environmental conditions, to promote education and health care programs for the less privileged and to maintain the ancient cultural traditions of Benares. With international support, SMF works with the community to educate everyone from children and boatmen to government officials about environmental concerns affecting the Ganga.  Mishra tells us, this takes an understanding of cultural sensitivities, “If I start talking with the common people and say that ‘Ganga is filthy, dirty, it’s polluted,’ people would say ‘please do not say this, it is unbelievable, this is disrespect to Ganga Ma.’  But if you take them to a point where the sewage is discharging to the river and show them what is happening, they say ‘this must stop.’”

With the help of engineers from UC Berkeley, SMF developed a plan to completely eliminate sewage discharge into the river.  It involves an interceptor line that catches the sewage before it runs into the river and feeds it by gravity to a series of treatment ponds that utilize algae to transform the wastewater into usable water for land irrigation and fishery ponds.  This technological solution is less expensive to build and operate than the current government-installed system that relies on large amounts of regular electricity (a rarity throughout India) and is not suited to clean up the levels of pollution found in the Ganga.  Mishra hopes that once Benares succeeds in transforming their portion of the river, it can be a model for all the cities on the Ganga, all the rivers in India and endangered environments throughout the world.
Although SMF has the support of the residents and the local government for their plan’s implementation, the state and federal government refuses to budge from their failing program.  The greatest obstacle to a clean Ganga in Benares has become the power, ego and selfish financial priorities of India’s mired political system even when “they know in their heart of hearts” they must do the right thing.  “I know that one has to be persistent and one has to be resilient.  So, I’m both,” Mishra tells us, “I’m just not creating any tension for myself and I believe in God and I believe in miracles.  Some day something will happen and we will be able to clean this river.”

Click image to enlarge.

The Ganges River is affectionately referred to as Ganga Ma by Hindus who revere the river as nature’s embodiment of the Divine Mother. It is said she flows from Heaven onto the matted hair of Lord Shiva’s head before descending onto Earth in the Himalayas.

Art by Shiv-Ram of Ramana’s Garden Orphanage, Rishikesh, India :: Artseva.org

If she were to hit the Earth directly, her intense force would destroy it. Ganga Ma flows through Northern India, traveling over 1500 miles from the Gangotri glacier to the Bay of Bengal, bringing her life-giving waters and compassionate blessings to all along her path. She heals the land, making it fertile as her waters overflow during monsoon season. To touch or even look upon her is believed to be a great blessing. Our friends Deepu and Vijay showed us photos of the flood that spilled into their house when the river rose during heavy monsoons. They enthusiastically told us, “Yes, Mother Ganga came in and blessed our family’s home. We were very happy.”

To bathe in her life-transforming waters removes all sins and can bestow moksha, or eternal liberation from the cycles of death and rebirth. Every Hindu desires to dip into this holy river at least once in their lifetime. It is auspicious to have one’s ashes offered to the Ganga after death to be carried directly to Heaven. As she flows, she gathers both prayers and sins to be sanctified and released into the depths of the ocean. She is liquid grace, unfathomable and eternally giving. She is Mother.

Our favorite way to drink chai in India is in tiny, one-use clay cups. If there are 3 chai wallahs next to each other, we always choose the one with clay cups. It’s authentic, tactile and fun. And the cups themselves are beautiful, in the most simple way. Many travelers attempt to carry one home to remember India by, taking the utmost care to preserve the delicate vessel by swaddling it with meters of fabric. I know—I’ve tried.

In Benares, we followed every man carrying a basket of clay cups on his head in search of “the potter behind the wheel”. Eventually, we found him. We met Mata Prasad, a clay pot wallah, in the courtyard of his family’s compound near Assi Ghat. It was the morning of Shivaratri, and although he was not working, he welcomed us to sit with him. Hundreds of clay pots laid out to dry on the roof covering his workspace—a simple open-air room with a dirt floor, a wooden bed, hooks for his clothes and a potter’s wheel.

Mata Prasad’s six grandchildren swarmed around him, and as their shyness wore off, they revealed a common twinkle in their eyes, a trait they obviously inherited from their grandfather. His name means “Gift of the Divine Mother.” His voice is aged and raspy but high-pitched and playful. He speaks Hindi with long, drawn-out syllables, and if you could only hear him and not see him, you would hear his smile.

We share a mutual friend, Hement Ji, who translated for us. “This is my small factory,” he told us. “Making these pots has been a tradition in my family for many generations.” We asked when he first learned his craft, and he exhaled a heavy chuckle. His eyes opened wide as he looked back in time. One of his first memories was playing with the water buffalo and cows when he was 13 or 14 years old—back when the British were still here. “Maybe, I was 15 or 16 when I started working,” he said. “This time I am not remembering, but I am guessing I am 60 or 70 years old.” If you do the math, he’s been spinning pots for a long time.

We returned the following day to observe Mata Prasad in action. He was wearing the same faded red t-shirt, white lungi, and kid-like smile. He squatted in front of his wheel, nearly an inch from the earth, picked up a large wooden pole and pushed the stone wheel in a counter-clockwise direction until it twirled out of its awkward wobble into a mesmerizing whirl. He had an economy of movement, gently touching the mound of clay and patiently waiting for it to form him a pot. Each one appeared like magic from behind his hands, and he effortlessly freed it at the base with a string he wore around his left wrist. After the pots sit in the sun to dry for one day, he makes a fire in a small mud room and bakes the pots for 12 hours until morning.

Mata Prasad spins about 500 pots in a day. The three shapes and sizes are used for yogurt, milk sweets and chai. When Patrick asks if he drinks chai, he laughs. “Huh, Huh,” (yes, yes) as he moves his head from side to side in the affirmative ‘Indian head waggle.’ “Two times in house, and wherever I will go, my customers, who purchase my pots, they offer me chai, chai, chai.” These half-baked, biodegradable cups, called puruas in Benares, are used once and then returned to the earth.

Nothing quite compares to drinking chai from one of these clay cups. Its primitive shape cradled in your hand and its warm dry rim on your lips accompanied by an earthy smell and taste strikes a tribal cord deep in your bones. When I tell Mata Prasad I prefer drinking chai in puruas, he quickly agrees, “Huh, Huh, because this is holy Ganga Ma’s clay. ” He uses clay that forms on the holy river’s banks after the monsoons, so like his name, Mata Prasad’s clay pots are also gifts of the Divine Mother.

As we say Namaste and thank him, he replies, “You are most welcome to come back again.”

And just so you can be amazed too, we have it all on video below!

Amidst the traffic of rickshaws, motor scooters, market goers and a small herd of water buffalo being led down the road, we discover the popular Pappu Chai Shop. Early in the day, it is a gathering place for elder intellectual types who read the newspaper, debate political issues and get their morning dose. After hours, it becomes a hang out for bhang (edible marijuana) users. We were told this chai stand has been here for 80 or 100 years.

We sit down outside on a low concrete wall next to Ashu, a regular customer and owner of Shiva Rooftop Restaurant down the street. Over the noise of honking cars and bicycle bells, we ask him what makes Pappu chai so special. “Because it is hygienic,” he tells us. “They clean the gilaas [hindi for glass] every time by the hot water. It is unique way. You will never see like this one.” It is true. In all our time in India we have never witnessed soap or hot water being used to clean glasses or any chai-making implement. We observe as a young boy first rinses the glasses in cold water like other chai stalls, then gives them a thorough cleansing with hot water that has been boiled on an open fire. The health of chai drinkers across India would surely benefit from this trademark disinfecting method.

Manoj operates his chai stall with precision, speed and dexterity. A third generation chai wallah, he employs an unconventional chai making technique handed down from his grandfather. Instead of making a pot of chai, each glass is prepared individually in an assembly line fashion. First, he carefully calculates the number of glasses by a count of seated customers, expected regulars and estimated drop-ins. The glasses are then grouped together into three parallel rows and a spoonful of sugar is put in the bottom of each glass. Hot milk is then ladled on top of the sugar. Manoj measures the tea by hand into a tea “sock,” with tea carefully being added or taken out to suit the amount of glasses being made. Boiling water is then slowly poured over the tea until it is fully saturated and the tea water starts to come through. When the flowing tea has a dark, rich color, it is quickly passed over the glasses with one hand while hot water is poured from a kettle in the other hand. He first moves the filtered tea long-ways over the line of glasses, then back and forth. A little more tea is added, then again across the glasses. The chai is made from “new tea every time — not boiling again and again.”

We learn that Manoj makes around 700-800 glasses of chai per day from 5am until 10pm. We ask Ashu, “how much per glass?” He answers, “2 rupees,” and before I could do the dollar conversion of take off the zero and divide by 4, the chai wallah starts laughing and talking to us. Ashu translates, “There are many customers that come every day and they are friends and take chai free. Many one is coming here and many crowd and he’ll give you chai and [snaps fingers] “challo” (meaning let’s go) — not paying the money. But they’re not caring about these things because they’re very much very good fellows.”

Finally, Manoj stirs each glass vigorously, with the rhythm and calm fervor of a classical Indian drummer. The ‘clink-clanking’ of the metal spoon against glass is like a dinner bell to the customers. In the madness of anxious hands grabbing for their glasses, Manoj hands us our chai. It is dark, bold and on the edge of being too bitter. I like it. Even though the tea is not boiled like most, it bears a distinctive strong tea flavor that provides quite a wake up call. We attempt to give Manoj 4 rupees for our chais but he just shakes his head and smiles.

Click the arrow below to hear these women singing, or click the link to download the mp3.

Choti Maharaj’s Ashram in Vrindavan, India: Sita Ram Radhe Sham

Religion and Spirituality are the essence of Indian culture. At any time, wherever you are, there are reminders of India’s religious diversity and our relationship with the Divine.

Religious dress distinguishes Hindu women in saris, Muslims in burqas and Tibetan Buddhists with red and yellow robes. People greet one another with hands over their heart while saying the sacred salutation “Namasté” or “As-salam Alaykum.” Children are named after Hindu Gods and Goddesses or companions of the prophet Mohammed. Even restaurants and other businesses bear the name of God, like Buddha Airlines, Hanuman Tea or Ram Milk Sweets.

God’s names echo across the city, as chants from temples or the call to prayer from mosques broadcast through blaring loudspeakers. Throughout the day there are processions celebrating a marriage with drumming, dancing and flashing lights, or honoring a death by carrying the colorfully wrapped body through the streets, chanting Ram Nam Satya Hai (the name of God is Truth). Flowers, ghee lamps and incense are offered at roadside shrines. Street musicians sing devotional songs to God. Wondering monks ask for alms. Images of Hindu deities hang on the walls of chai shops while carved stone icons silently observe.

Although chai is not a doctrine of any faith, (except perhaps our own), it seemed to be the element that transcended all gender, age, caste or religion. Like God, chai was everywhere. So, as we traveled through Nepal and Northern India, we drank up not only chai, but also the rich spiritual way of life.

Click the arrow below to hear one man’s morning prayer on the Ganga in Benares, or click the link to download the mp3.

Ganga Solo

Sikkim, India: Rumtek Monastery Chanting