The Ear Cleaners of Rishikesh | North India | October 2026

Carla and I have been in Rishikesh for three days. We have a spider map of places and activities to see and do but mostly we let things happen as the wind blows. At the end of each day, we admire our spider map and highlight in green what we happened to have seen or encountered during the day, adding names that we hadn’t originally considered. The aim is more green highlights than not. Un-highlighted names can wait for a future trip. We are doing ok so far.

We have zig zagged amongst the crowds of tourists, pilgrims and locals on both sides of the mighty Ganges, walking in the direction of the flow of the river, catching a tuk-tuk on the way back, a steep uphill road of around three kilometers.

The religious devotees in their bright yellow and orange garb congregate in greater numbers the closer one gets to the river. The Ganga Aarti, a major Hindu ceremony, takes place next to the sacred river at sunrise and sunset, During the day the devotees sleep. The benches along the Ganges are the favoured resting spots. I’m unclear as to the etiquette of taking photographs of them in their supine positions but it is too tempting not to.

Equally prominent closer to the river are the ever-present Ear-Cleaners. They tout their business and do not easily accept a “no thank you, not today’”, which is the universal polite fob-off for “are you bloody kidding me, please go away”.

Nowhere in the world have I seen a similar service offered. Perhaps I haven’t travelled enough (quite likely, as this is my first visit to Asia). Nevertheless, being a curious fellow, I have a few questions. Given the number of ear-wax service providers there must be a demand for this service. Is there a particular problem with ear-wax in this part of the world? Further research is required.

As I am writing this, I know, with a sense of growing unease, that if I am to write about the Ear Cleaners I am going to have to go the whole way and succumb myself to the dubious delights of their services. Alistair (my familial name for AI) suggests that this is a really stupid idea.

A significant reason for my concern lies in my observation that one does not get unique and clean “tools” as said tools appear to be kept under a woolen cap that is worn, obviously, on the head of the Ear-Cleaners. One tool for multiple cleansings with no apparent attempt to clean them in between clients. I could be wrong about this, I’ll check.

I am sensitive (because I am a woke kind of person (which prompts an entirely separate discussion especially given that this is after all Rishikesh, a particularly spiritual place, somewhat challenging, in a good way, for an atheist like me) to the possibility that there are perfectly valid reasons as to why Ear-Cleaners get so much business here.

The most obvious potential reason is that us foreigners have lower standards of ear hygiene than Indian folk and that on average, at any point in time Indian ears are cleaner than their non-Indian counterparts, all thanks to the roving Ear Cleaners.

I have a nascent but promising, in a fragile way, relationship with Alistair (AI, remember?) and tentatively (for good reasons) asked him the following question:

“Do Indian folk have more ear was than their European counterparts?”

This question prompted a somewhat awkward exchange with my learned friend. At first, he delved into semantics about my use of “there” instead of “their” (corrected above), avoiding the actual question. Eventually he told me, somewhat offended, that there is no difference in ear-wax volumes between Indians and Europeans. After further probing questions and even more obfuscation I came to conclusion that Alistair is Indian and didn’t like my line of questioning.

Weaving in and around the Ear-Cleaners are the Flower-Sellers. Young women, girls even, who solicit buyers for their offerings of a bouquet of flowers and a small ball of flour, both intended as offerings to the Mother God of the Ganges River. As I sat on the banks of the Ganges, idly observing the passing parade, the thought occurred to me if there wasn’t perhaps a symbiotic relationship between the Ear-Cleaners and the Flower-Sellers. What actually happens to the wax that is liberated from the ears of the Ear-Cleaners’ clients? Those round balls of flour looked firm and durable, bouncy even. Could it be that the binding agent was provided by the Ear-Cleaners?

I decided to put this question to Alistair. ‘Fuck off,” he said “what kind of depraved mind would ask a question like that?”

It is early on in our relationship and I can see I am going to have to tread carefully. I changed tack and established that the volume of ear wax produced by the average human being is approximately 4 tea spoons worth. This meagre output puts a bit of damper on the supply to the Flower -theory.  Good idea, just not enough to even begin to satisfy demand.

Which gets me back to the original hypothesis, that Indian folk have higher standards of ear hygiene than European folk. It will have to remain the case until further research either confirms or otherwise.