Rishikesh

Rishikesh is one of those famous places that most people have heard of. It is famous as a center for yoga and meditation, and spirituality in general. It's had that reputation for eons, of course, among Hindus, for whom it is a holy city on the holiest river in India - the Ganga - and in the foothills of the holy Himalayas. But it only caught on with westerners seeking enlightenment in the 60s. The Beatles' two month stay in Rishikesh certainly didn't hurt its international acclaim.

The environment of Rishikesh (and Haridwar), although in the same mountain range that I'd spent the previous many weeks in, is completely different. It is much lower in elevation and thus is hotter and more humid, and the foliage is thick and green and dense (and almost tropical-feeling, although not technically tropical since the latitude is too high...about the same as Los Angeles).

Haridwar and Rishikesh have the worst flies I have ever seen in my life. It's really perplexing because I have been other places in India with similar street hygiene and cows walking around the street, but nowhere else have I seen the flies anywhere near as bad as they are here. Walking down the street you walk through thick swarms of them. Not a pleasant experience.

In fact, I wasn't too impressed with Rishikesh in general. After all the places I'd been in the higher Himalayas, I just didn't find it that beautiful in Rishikesh. I like pine and cedar forests more than thick nondescript jungle.

And what of the yoga? That is what "everyone" comes to Rishikesh for, after all. Well the truth is I'm just not that interested in yoga. I don't have anything against it and, who knows, I might even benefit from it if I gave it try. But I didn't feel like enrolling in a yoga class at this time and place. Something about the religiosity of it all. I know that yoga doesn't have to be a religious thing and that plenty of atheists practice yoga in the West. But here in Rishikesh everything seemed to be imbibed with a heavy dose of Hinduisim (which is understandable, of course, given the place's holiness). So to take a yoga class, I'd have to do it with a yogi who I figured would also make it a religious thing. And I'm an atheist. I don't want any religion right now.

It's funny. It used to be that when people asked me what religion I was, I would respond that I was an atheist but that I "might be open to Eastern religions or spirituality some day". Well, here I am in India, birthplace of the two biggest eastern religions - Hinduism and Buddhism - and yet I currently feel more content in my atheism than ever before. Well, I'd still be interested in reading some Buddhist philosophy - especially that of the Dalai Lama, for whom I do have a great deal  of respect. But I'm not interested in PRACTICING any religion. What it really comes down to is that I don't believe in God. And Hindus do believe in Gods (some 300 million of them!). And Buddhists do too. I used to have it in my mind that Buddhism was the most open, peaceful religion in the world and hat it allowed its individual practitioners to practice it as they want. Well, compared to other religions, there still may be some truth in that. But I think I was buying into the generally over-romanticized picture of Buddhism that is popular in the West (and especially in places like San Francisco where I grew up). But now I've seen Tibetan Buddhism up close, and I now know that they are some of the most fiercely religious people on earth. Almost to the point of fanatacism (although not in a violent way, like some religious fanatics). Some of the things they do for their religion - prostrating themselves, crawling miles and miles on the ground to Lhasa - are difficult for me to comprehend. If the Buddha was so compassionate why would he want his followers to do such things? The amount of devotion that people give to their religion scares me. I also learned that many wars have been fought in the name of Buddhism. And that Buddhism is just as intolerant of homosexuality as Christianity and Hinduism and Islam are. The Dalai Lama himself said that homosexuality is a sin. The Tibetans, bless their hearts, have also had a much bloodier history than most people realize. Tibet has always had an army, and it has fought many wars, some in defense, and some in offense. At certain points in history Tibet was an expansionist empire, and conquered parts of China and India and Nepal. Tibet was also archaically feudal, with the vast majority in virtual slavery to the monks, who owned all the land and controlled all the wealth. Those who rebelled against strict Buddhist dogma were arrested and tortured.

In this day and age, the Dalai Lama has renounced feudalism and all forms of violence and endorsed democracy and peace as guiding principles for a Tibetan state. Compared to the Chinese, the Tibetans certainly have the moral high ground today...my point, however, is that history is never black and white. Based on past events, the Chinese probably do have some legitimate claim to Tibet. When Tibetans claim that "Tibet has always been an independent country" that's just not true. Borders switch so often during history, and those switches are usually accompanied by bloodletting, xenophobia, and carnage on both sides, leaving neither with a categorical moral imperative.

In Rishikesh this German girl was astonished that I wasn't taking yoga. She admonished me and said "everyone at least TRIES it"....as if I was letting Rishikesh down. That only strengthened my resolve NOT to give in and do what everyone else does. Maybe that's silly of me. Sometimes I think I get overly reactionary. Like the Taj Mahal. I should probably go see it. I mean, why not? But so far, I haven't made a point of it. In fact, I've kind of avoided it. Just something about it being "THE Taj Mahal" that everyone else goes and sees. I'm sure it's a beautiful building, but in my mind I tell myself that it's just a pretentious, ostentatious monument to one rich and powerful emperor's vanity. It was built with the slave labor of millions. It represents power, oppression, violence, wealth, and waste.

Found myself in yet another conversation about Israeli backpackers, this time with two young Jews from New York. They were unaware of the discourse about Israeli backpackers and their alleged rudeness, so I filled them in on it, curious to know what they think. They laughed  and explained that "Israelis are just rude people, period"...in India, in Israel, anywhere. "It's just their nature," they explained. They then said that people in India needed to understand that about Israelis and their culture, and once they realized that Israelis are rude to everyone, everywhere, they no longer would have any reason to be offended. "That's cultural relativism," they explained.

Um, no. I'm sorry, but it's not. That's the opposite of cultural relativism. That's cultural obtuseness and ethnocentricism. Cultural relativism says that when tourists visit a country, they are supposed to adapt to the culture of the place they are visiting. It does not give them the right to take their own bad manners, no matter how normal they are in their own country, and practice them in places where it is considered rude.