Chai and Weed in Khajaraho, India

JANUARY 30, 2013

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”  - Dr. Seuss, Oh The Places You'll Go

I rise and shine at 4:30 am in my new home.  After my personal yoga practice and morning prayer, I lace up.  There’s no better way to explore a new locale than on foot or bike, and I lack the bike.  With a brain in my head and feet in my shoes I hit dirt road.  Right? or left?  Dirt roads and rolling hills in each direction.  I turn right.

Like so many other locations in India, I was met with a small village.  The road was more of an ally wedged between two rows of homes.  If the population was more than 50 I would be shocked.  Tiny stupas and Shiva lingums appear about every two hundred yards as the dirt road quickly turns to trail and disappears into a farmer’s field.

Watering the mustard seed field.

Another curious local.

Is it me or is the one on the left actually smiling?

On the way back, I am greeting once again by all the friendly faces who waved at me on the way out.  This time they were more prepared.  The kids had the jump on me and matched my stride on foot or bicycle through the narrow ally way.  When I slow to look in an open courtyard, a man bolts out, waving me in, “Chai? Chai? Chai?”   

The temptation to drink chai tea in someone’s home is tempting, but my stomach is in knots and I have 3 km to run home.  I hold my hands in prayer and nod my thanks before turning to go.   

Further down another man greets me at the road and invites me to join his group of three around the fire.  It takes about 15 repetitions of the word, and I finally focus on the hollow bone bowl in his hand enough to recognize the word “marijuana” leaving his lips.  I again nod, thank him, and press on without stopping. 

Dairy and weed didn’t seem like the best idea for my system at seven in the morning.  But I’ll give them huge cred on the hospitality.  I’ve run thousands of miles in the U.S. and no one has ever stopped me to serve tea and get me stoned.