Peru 7 - Mangoes and Mongrels

In the pre-dawn light, a solitary Krishna is singing outside the volunteer windows: ♫ Mango lassi...Mango lassi. ♫. At least, that’s what it sounds like – my dairy-craving translation of Sanskrit – for other than a morsel of cheese and a small ice-cream, I've had no dairy – one of my two “normal” food groups. A mango lassi is my favourite drink (like a milkshake) at Indian restaurants. I shuffle off to the composting toilet – its full and I will have to empty it. By “composting toilet” I mean a garbage pail with a hole cut in its lid, to which a broken toilet seat is attached. Sawdust is used after each use.

Last night Eliza translates the dog story – of why there are so many mutts and mongrels hanging around. Not long ago, a man drove down to the beach here in his truck. He opened the back tailgate, and thru out a haunch of meat, whereby a dozen or so dogs leaped after. He drove away in a cloud of dust. The cute looking dogs where adopted by the nearby homes and farmers. The remaining motley mutts took up camp at Eco Truly.

This reminds me of how masters and mutts tend to look alike. I ponder how over thirty years ago, the German founder of this ashram left his legacy, and, like a tasty morsel, wayward human mutts and mongrels flock here from around the world.

Somewhere between a light rain and a heavy mist falls outside – the ground is wet for the first time since arriving. Good thing I hung up my laundry last night to dry – now my clothes have been blessed by Natures Second Rinse. Hare Krishna.... ;)