Varanasi, Tuesday evening

At dusk, Ramrani, Roxanne and I walked along the ghats to see if Mark was home. It was a long walk and every fifteen or twenty feet along the way, men called out to us, "Boat, Madam? Very cheap! Best part of day for ride!"

Mark's house, painted red with a huge image of the Kali Yantra painted on its front, rises high above the river, up a long flight of stairs.



Unfortunately he wasn't home, so we sat down on the steps. The moment we stopped, we were approached by some little boys. Both Ramrani and Roxanne are fluent in Hindi, but the oldest of the three was eager to practice his English, as well as to exchange the American coins from his international stash. In minutes we were surrounded by boys and boat wallahs. The mad woman who lives under Mark's house came home and was shouting angrily. Goats climbed up and down the steps, brushing against us. A mother dog nursed her puppies a step or two above us, other dogs checked in on their way by. Ramrani ended up with an extra $1.75 to carry around.