In India, There’s No Place to Buy…

Photo by Sandeep Kr Yadav on Unsplash

From Monday, December 15, 2003

…toilet paper.

Most Indian women decorate their face, be it with yellow facial dye or a multitude of multi-colored dots. We’ve visited enough temples to recognize that the process of getting dotted is much like taking communion in the Methodist church, where everyone is invited. A shirtless Brahmin with exposed chest hair and three wide white lines painted on his forehead holds a tray supporting a flaming oil lamp of sorts. The Hindus stand in line, and when it is their turn run their hands lightly through the flame, take a bit of colored dust (rice powder) from the Brahmin’s hand into their own and place a mark on the middle of their forehead, on the bridge of their nose, and also on their neck or throat.

Many Indian men wear sarongs – white skirts wrapped around their waist and tied in front. As the heat fluctuates throughout the day, so does the length of their skirt. Oftentimes men can be seen raising the bottom so the skirt hangs to just above their knees and tying it at their waist for a second time.

In Pondicherry (where, by the way, we narrowly avoided a cyclone) we had our fist genuine Ascetic sighting. A man walking the streets was pulling a cart with his back skin and balancing an altar of sorts on one shoulder. The cart contained an orange triangle and had two wheels, and it was attached to the man’s back by two chains piercing his skin. He was really “hooked on” to that cart! His followers were stopping the passersby to collect money to aid in their collective survival.

I love it here but am thankful for the quiet sanctity of our hotel room. I hope you are all well.