A holy city

I was sick. Yesterday I began to have diarrhea and headaches. My body ached and all I wanted to do was sleep. Right now I'm blaming my symptoms on an ill-advised stop at roadside shop. I thought I could get away with eating that deep fried bannana. Well, I guess not. The mere thought of that banana makes me want to puke!

So there is a physical reason for my illness. But there is more.

The things that I have seen in the last 48 hours are almost to sureal to describe. But I will try.

Yesterday, my mom and I were walking along and two little girls ran up to us. Well one little girl ran up to us. The other one toddled. She toddled because she was probably two years old. She was filthy and grimy and cute. She was cute like every little kid is cute. But she was homeless and begging for her food. Her older sister (the one who ran) was maybe five. Maybe.

Later we went down to the ocean. On a promenade facing out into the area where three oceans meet, there is a monument in dedication of Mahatma Gandhi. It's a beautiful piece of architecture incorporating building styles reminiscent of Hindus, Muslims and Christians. Families sat on top watching the ocean and eating lunch. Children, the same age as the beggars mentioned above, played with each other and said hello to my mom and I.

Two hundred yards away little boys and girls begged for money.

After the Gandhi memorial we went to see the famous sunset. Kanyakumari is known for its glorious sunrises (6:30 am) and sunsets (6:45 am). On our way down to beach we walked by piles of poop. Human poop. The smell was overwhelming. I felt like throwing up.

Meanwhile the sun was setting. The last golden rays of the day intermingled with the stench of human waste. It's too much for a person to handle. How can you not enjoy a sunset that is that beautiful? How can you enjoy a sunset with the smell of putrid poop in your nostrils? Ah, India.

Last night, desperate for something, anything that was familiar, my mom and decided to go to a restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet. Not really knowing where it was we hired a rickshaw. We said very firmly we weren't willing to pay more than rs 20. Surprisingly he agreed (usually they argue and you have to threaten to leave before they will lower the price). Well, after two minutes we realized why he had been so agreeable. It was maybe four block away. Ah well, what can you do?

The restaurant was very nice, albeit surreal. It was clean (wow) and didn't smell like anything really. There were three waiters and a busboy serving my mom and I and an elderly couple.

It sure didn't feel like India.

It was a welcome break though. We needed a place to touch down. The food was good and clean (I hope). We inquired at the hotel (the restaurant was part of a hotel) about room prices. A room at the top of the hotel with A/C and a balcony cost $90.

We left the hotel ready to walk back to our slightly shabby abode. Immediately upon exiting a little girl ran up to us. Her mother, who was carrying an infant was right behind her. They gestured, begging for food. We gave them five rupees (one cent). In that restaurant we had just spent 235 rupees (five dollars). For probably the tenth time that day I felt like crying.