Dirty street children.

Mahabalipuram, 02-12-1994. Dirty street children with a weird american accent ask me for a cookie while the tank just behind Arjuna`s penance is being used to clean one`s ass after having attende to a ever repeating daily need. I almost fell asleep in the shade of trees, the distinct sound of the sea in my ears, at Tiger Cave, four km. out on the road to Madras. The sunset at the tank offers fantastic views, a great panorama with the Vs of over flying geese that remind me of my youth in the south of Holland. Many dutch people here, most of them on organised tours. I eavesdrop on their conversation: discussions about indian life and the cup of chai they just drank in front of this primitive shed that houses a whole family back in the fishing village.