We attended an intimate concert at the burning ghat (where they cremate bodies all day long, hundreds of them) with some new friends (hi Ryan and Kate). We'd seen folk dancing before but not with a gay (nearly illegal) man performing the women's parts. He was great, so were the tabla player, sitar player (not here), harmonium player, and drum maker (clapping). Our eyes burned along with the nearby bodies and I didn't know whether I was crying or not.
4 comments:
Very interesting. Can't comment on the crying or not. Maybe. Grandpap is with us now in your old room -- in the rocking chair where his mother rocked him as a baby.
i was def crying. great blog you guys! manali looks devine. hugs from kolkata, k & r
p.s. - we had to jump on a moving train leaving bodhgaya after first getting on a WRONG train at 4 AM and (wrongly) yelling at an innocent young couple to get out of our seats ... picture us running down the platforms saying, "okay, adam and arati did this... we can DO THIS..."
wow! That's amazing Kate well we would have yelled at the couple too I'm sure. But I'm sure it was an adventure, got to jump a train at least once on India. X
Running for trains is NOT what we expected! Ha ha! Be careful, all of you!!!
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