India, Chapter 3...the experiences...

So, in India, they don't believe in Homosexuality and if one is open/discovered to be one, they are made into eunachs and considered bad omens. Therefore, you see all these men holding hands in the streets like they have succumbed to puppy love, yet they are married. Or you see a man like this. I've named him the Pink Peacock Pundit. He was a dancer in Neemrana who was, hands down, the gayest thing I have ever seen, god bless his queer little heart...and you all know how I love the gays and know a plethora of them. He had three moves: hip swivels, a mean shimmy, and a whirling dervish move reminiscent of a toddler spinning until they fell over. He made 7 costume changes in a 45 minute show. One of his pieces was him spinning, then going from table to table, demanding they take a picture of him...which is what you're seeing here. Oh, and his dance partner was his wife. Right. Sure it was.

I spent a day at Mother Theresa's Charity, playing with the orphans. This little boy, Joe, and I fell in love. When I had to leave him there, I have never felt such loss and sadness in my heart. I tried to figure out any possible way of taking him home with me, but I knew now was not the time. He was perfect and smiled all the time. There was an absolute connection that I cannot describe, other than to say it awakened me. I will go back one day and adopt. There are too many babies out there who are perfect and smile all the time and don't have families because of stupid things like missing fingers and bad omens. I will be a mother to one of those children one day.

Here I am washing my feet before entering the Sikh temple. Exploring all of the different religions that we as Americans know so little about was really wonderful. Sikhs get a bad wrap, but I have to say, every one that I met was kind, lovely, and eager to share. And the baby Sikhs had total street cred. Not kidding. I really loved them all.

Okay. So I go to a slum, having a great time, playing with the kids, it's all hugs and kisses. They usher me to sit on a blanket. I'm all trusting the sweet little street urchin angels not to kill me. And then all of a sudden there's a cobra around my neck and two in my lap. I've never been so close to peeing myself in my life. I loved it!

I love this story. I'm at Agra Fort here, built by Akbar the Great who was known for his fair attitudes and uniting India through all of its diversity. He even went so far as to have 3 wives (1 Hindu, 1 Muslim, 1 Christian) and 303 concubines (1 from each tribe) to show he held no religious preference. Busy man. Anyway, when someone was convicted of a crime, they would put their head on this stone for an elephant to step on, thus executing the criminal. Akbar, knowing that elephants were the only animal to think for themself, gave the criminal 3 chances. If the elephant did not kill the convicted by the third try, he was released and Akbar assumed that the convict was actually innocent and that the gods wanted him free. Interesting, huh? And yes, in this scenario, I am playing the part of the elephant.