KIMCHI AT THE GHATS
There’s a tiny Seoul in Varanasi. South Koreans on the Buddhist tourist circuit are settling down, opening cafes, learning to speak Hindi and play the sitar
There’s a Little Korea in the gullies of Varanasi. Walk through this timeless city and you will see, near the foreign tourists sipping blueberry lassis and the vegetable vendor arguing loudly beside a music shop where someone is playing the sitar, suddenly an oasis of calm in the form of a Korean café. Dimmed lighting, soothing music, low seating arrangements and authentic Korean cuisine — it’s like you’ve stepped into the streets of Seoul.
South Koreans have dotted this city with little cafés, signs in Korean and K-Pop CDs in the stores. Some came as tourists and never left, others arrived as students and keep coming back. Still others visit once or twice a year to experience “something real… chaos so unlike the sterile rigidity of Seoul,” in the words of Bowon Kim, a 26-year-old South Korean sculptor studying fine art at Banaras Hindu University (BHU).
“Varanasi is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world and the spiritual capital of India. I think the Korean tourists are attracted to the contrast the city presents against their hometowns. It’s relaxed and the slow pace gives them a sense of peace,” says Avinash Chandra Mishra, joint director at the Uttar Pradesh department of tourism. “Last year 18,286 South Koreans visited Varanasi, of the total of 3.35 lakh international tourists. For the last five years the number has ranged from 17,000 to 21,000 annually.”
Sitar teachers have Korean students coming back to them year after year, most of them studying art and music and fluent in Hindi.
“Being so close to Sarnath is an added attraction,” says Neerja Samajdar, associate professor at the Centre for Korean studies at Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru University, referring to the largely Buddhist South Korean population, and the area in Varanasi where the Buddha first preached. The cultural exchange is now going both ways, Samajdar adds.
“Youngsters here are starting to study Korean, out of interest, or so that they can act as tour guides. There are Korean language diploma courses with batches of 40 students at a time.”
Varanasi is an important destination on the Buddhist circuit, which also includes Bodh Gaya, Vaishali, Rajgir and Kushinagar in Bihar, Shravasti in UP, and Lumbini and Kapilavastu in Nepal, where the Buddha was born and spent his early years.
In addition to Koreans, Buddhists from Thailand, Sri Lanka, Japan and the US and UK, among other countries, travel this route as a sort of pilgrimage.
Koreans, however, have another reason to connect with India. Many have grown up hearing a folk tale about an Indian princess who travelled from this region in 48 CE to marry a king and, at age 16, become the first queen of the ancient Korean confederacy of Gaya.
“Since then, along with Buddhism, various aspects of culture have been shared by the two countries,” says Kim Kumpyoung, director of the Korean Cultural Centre in India.
KOREAN CUISINE AMID KACHORIMALAI
“Bibimbap (a traditional Korean dish of rice, chicken, vegetables, chilli paste, soya paste and soy sauce) and Rabokki (a Korean street snack made with ramen, boiled eggs and rice cakes in a spicy sauce) are very popular at our eatery,” says Seema Majhi, 26, who has been running the Mong café with her brother Sanjay Panday for seven years.
Mong, incidentally, is Korean for ‘total relaxation’ or ‘doing absolutely nothing’.
Majhi is also the chef; she learnt how to cook Korean fare by watching YouTube videos. “Sometime my brother’s friends from Korea visit and teach me new dishes,” she says.
Panday, now 33, has had a Korean connection since he was 8. That’s when he first met the eminent South Korean poet Ryu Shiva, while he was selling postcards to tourists. The poet was so taken by the child that three years later, when he returned to Varanasi, he looked him up. When Panday was 18, Shiva invited him to Seoul, where Panday did a Korean language course at Seoul University. He now runs two cafés, and acts as a guide for Korean tourists.
“Shiva completely changed my life; he is like a father to me,” he says.
Most of the Korean cafés in Varanasi are joint ventures.
An Indian provides the space and licences; a Korean, the mood and cuisine. Ashish Dwivedi claims his Raga café was the first of its kind in Varanasi.
It’s been around for 16 years, set up by Dwivedi and a Korean named Ju Jong Won who met while studying at BHU. “More Koreans were coming to the city, as tourists and students. We saw a business opportunity in that,” Dwivedi says.
So he turned the bookstore on the ground floor of his ancestral home into a Korean café. “We serve only Korean cuisine. Ju Jong Won helped with the cooking, and we all learnt from him. Tourists appreciate how authentic the food is.”
Dwivedi has since married a Korean woman, Sunhwa Cha, and divides his time between Seoul and Varanasi. Over the past four years, the trio has opened two other cafés, a Korean one near the Assi Ghat and an Indian one in Seoul.
Their Raga Café at Manikarnika Ghat is a perfect example of the seamless integration of the two cultures. Just outside is a Shivalinga worshipped by the owner’s family, and just inside a detailed map of pay well,” he says.
Some masseurs have tied up with boatmen to offer their services during a boat ride down the Ganges.
“For massage on boat, the tourist has to pay for the boat as well,” says Mahendra Sharma, another mobile masseur. His customers of the day have included Chloe Prentoulis, a retired teacher from Los Angeles, and an Englishman-turned-sanyasi Varanasi written entirely in Korean.
“We also organise Hindustani classical concerts and dance performances from time to time,” says Himanshu Dwivedi, Ashish’s brother.
KPOP, HINDI LESSONS AND AAMIR KHAN
Graphic designer Soenja Shin, 41, speaks fluent Hindi, very little English and, of course, Korean.
“I came here six years ago and promptly fell in love,” she says. She studied Hindi for three years at BHU. “It helped me learn about the society too. About where its history of religious amalgamation and tolerance comes from.” She is now pursuing a Bachelors degree in Fine Arts at BHU.
Her husband, Sung Mo, 46, moved to Varanasi also, in 2014. “Sung is studying the tabla at BHU,” Shin says. “He used to play acoustic guitar in Korea and he eventually wants to teach music to kids.”
Shin is now discovering Bollywood. “I’m a huge fan of Aamir Khan,” she says. “When I was learning Hindi, I watched 3 Idiots 50 times! I can recite its entire script. Aamir Khan’s movies make you think, so I love them.”
Also at BHU, Indian students are study-
THEY USE NO EQUIPMENT, JUST WALK UP TO TOURISTS, CHARGE RS 20 FOR 10 MINUTES
who declined to give his name.
Not everyone wants to be pestered about a massage during their first encounter with the mighty river, though. Many of the tourists are also not fans of the literally hands-on approach used to peddle these services. “The massage is good. But the way he started massaging me without asking was irritating,” says Peter William, a young tourist from England.
ORIGIN TALE
The masseurs that operate here range in age from 20 to 65. Many take on and train young apprentices at no cost. Under the guidance of the guru, the trainee first massages domestic tourists and locals. Lessons include how to handle sensitive areas like the back and head.
Legend has it the first mobile masseur in Varanasi was a migrant from Bihar named Ramshankar Sharma who arrived in the pilgrim city 50 years ago in search of work.
Unable to find work in any of the shops, he stretched out on the stairs of the Dashashwamedh Ghat and slept. When he awoke, there was a foreign tourist seated nearby. He looked tired. Desperate to earn a few rupees, Sharma asked if he would like his hands and feet massaged.
That went so well that the tourist asked for a whole body massage. An hour later, he stood up refreshed and handed Sharma a Rs 50 note. This was a fortune in the 1960s, and Sharma realised he had found a career.
His son, Gauri Shankar Sharma, is now in his mid-50s and still earns a living here. “My father had learnt the art of dry massaging from his father, who taught it to me. This is my business and it’s one that I enjoy,” he says.
Earnings range from Rs 200 to Rs 500 a day. Gauri Shankar’s son Jeetendra, 32, is also a mobile masseur. It’s a profession that supports many migrants from Bihar.
Most mobile masseurs operate at the Dashashwmedh, Prayag, Rana Mahal, Rajendra Prasad and Assi Ghats. Some also roam the lanes of Kashi looking for customers, but generally bring them back to the ghats, where cots laid out on the steps — or sometimes just a shawl — allow the tourist to relax for longer.
“Most tourists don’t want an oil massage but if someone asks I just buy a sachet of hair oil from a nearby shop and charge an additional Rs 10 for the massage,” says Kishan.
So if you spot a man with absolutely no equipment mutter in the ears of tourists, don’t fret. They actually aim to relax.