and the day turned to night

After three hours of sleep, I woke up very happy once again. I saw the cutest little lizard by the front door. Had a delicious breakfast and a nice chat with my host. He asked his driver to take me downtown (I finally got a glimpse of the magnificent Maneeksha temple), and then to take me to the Gandi museum. I love their driver. I forget his name and feel bad about that. But he doesn't speak very much English, but has been very kind to me - chopping my coconut, and putting effort into communicating despite our language barrier. He dropped me off at the Gandhi museum. I started looking around when he came up the stairs with a friends of his, Kaleeswaran. Kalee spent over two hours showing me around the museum and giving me an extremely valuable Indian perspective on recent Indian history. It was interesting also to tell him about parallels within Canadian history and how whitey treated the natives there. There were three little girls who stared at me adorably. Eventually the oldest had the courage to shake my hand and ask my name - her two little sisters followed suit. Very adorable. It's amazing the people who have come up just to talk to me - as me what country I'm from and what my name is. The inner room is painted black and contains the clothes Gandhi was wearing when he was shot. Kalee took me to the garden afterward, where we walked barefoot to where some of his ashes are buried. Then he took me to see Hindu statues from the past 700-800 years.

After this I offered him some cash to say thank-you, and he refused. He then introduced me to his father who rode his bicycle from Madurai to Pakistan spreading the lessons of peace that Gandhi also spread. His father had a scrap book on him where he showed me the newspaper clippings. Kalee said that Gandhi was his father's role model, and his father is a role model for him. He then offered to take me on the back of his bike to the road. I am so touched by the time he took to show me around - just because he wanted to.

Then, walking back in the searing heat, an old man, smaller than I am, asked me to get into his rickshaw. I tried to politely refuse - I wanted to walk - but he insisted saying he needed the money - and by the look of his frighteningly broken down carriage I believe him. Against my better judgment, I climbed in. It was extremely humbling to have an old man peddling me down the streets. About half way to our neighborhood, he pulled over to show me pictures of his six children, and other people he had driven around. He then dropped me off at the entrance to our neighborhood. He charged me over twice what the journey was worth but I gladly paid him. Then, to my dismay, he started following me around. Eventually I made it clear that I wasn't going to go with him (he probably wanted to take me to shops where he'd make commission), and he went away. Another very kind man just stopped me to ask if everything was alright. This is the second time someone has just approached me to ask if I needed anything - not trying to sell anything, just offering assistance.

Then I walked past some of the slums on the way to the gorgeous house I am staying at. A beggar woman kept asking me for money - really, how could I say no? And what difference will ten rupees make to one woman when there is poverty just everywhere.

Finally I got home and now I'm just going to hide and process and sleep. I know I haven't even seen the half of it. I picked up Gandhi's autobiography. Might be good for me to read right now.