Mayor of Mysore (life)

Yesterday, we walked the steps of Chamundi Hill to see Chamundeshwari Temple. It turns out yesterday was the third Friday of a celebration that only happens once a year. People had come to perform their pujas...one woman put yellow and red pigments on each of the 1000+ steps, others burned small fires, sweets were given out once you reached the top....

On the way, the boys seemed to want to practice their English. I believe that the schools in this part of the world teach the children a standard dialogue. When I was in 7th grade, I learned one for Spanish and can still recite it (in what I think is) word for word. Here (and in Kuala Lampur), the two favorite questions of boys aged 9-19 seem to be "Hello. What's your name?" and "Where you from?" Some brave girls will ask...but, mostly they giggle when you say Namaste.

At the temple, I answered every question. When it became obvious that we were fully interactive tourists, the boys then wanted to practice the other American skill of shaking hands. I shook the hands of enough people to feel like I could run for office here in Mysore.

Tomorrow, we will begin the day with an Ayurvedic massage and then go see Mysore Palace. On Monday, we will go to a class that teaches painting techniques used by the hill tribes. Even with the need to navigate the overzealous auto rickshaw drivers and dodge the people who are very willing to give you directions to a place if you just stop in their store for 2 hours, Mysore is a truly wonderful place.