The Ganges is brown and wide and moves sluggishly as if weighed down by the load that it carries. We have a boat, one of many, and a man to row for us. I let my hand drag in the water and splash my face and forehead. I sit with my back to the sun, my clothes sticking to me. Perspiration runs down my neck. My straw hat protects my face and my cotton pants and shirt cover all of me except for my hands which have been lavished with sunscreen.