(Celsius)
Well hello, rain! Yesterday, like a gift from all 324 million Hindu deities, it rained. and rained. and Rained. I can honestly say I have never seen so much. It started Monday evening, and continued until Wednesday morning. We were cold and wet, but able to enjoy the company of the family we were renting a room from, as we sat around a small fire on the porch. Later, we danced in their living room to Bollywood tunes and Aqua (Hello Barbie Girl), and learned to cook some South Indian cuisine. Then masterfully devoured it. Our hosts were truly amazing, they spoke English quite well and we had an amazing conversation with the daughter about everything one hopes to discuss in a small hippie town in India (sans the chara of course). The father, who reminded me of my own dear dad--in style of dance as well as mode of conversation-- talked to us about cooking first, religion second and marriage third. A reasonable set of priorities.
This morning, we woke up to a whole new world. The rain brought the hills alive, green beyond belief, and a multitude of waterfalls sprang up--or down--around the valley. Even now, as I sit writing, I can count three beautiful wells of water pouring down the rugged hills. Not to mention, it stopped raining, the sun is shining, and the world is fresh.
Tonight we ride to Chandigargh to check out the Rock Garden--look it up, should be very neat, a man in Philidelphia is doing a similiar project--and back into the heat.
Hard to believe I have only a week left.
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