You can't beat FREE!
I'm going to post quickie updates while I'm here, not my usual long (ha!) stories...
I'm typing this at a tiny cafe. I arrived in London yesterday (Sunday), with just a few hours of daylight (if you can count drizzle) left to enjoy. I landed at Heathrow, caught the Underground Picadilly Line, and sat transfixed, a woman in an alternate universe, as we lurched past lush gardens, more climbing vines and lilacs than I knew could exist in one place. This is not my desert.
I'm staying at an old hotel, just off Piccadilly Circus - London's version of Times Square- in a room tiny by American standards. I love it. I dropped my bags and wandered the streets with an umbrella and eyes heavy with jetlag.
I didn't expect to experience much my first night, maybe find dinner, walk a mile or three, but five blocks out of the hotel a man accosted me. He wore a white robe made from cheap cotton, and the space between his eyes was stained saffron from some kind of ceremonial temporary tattoo. He handed me a book about "The True Truth of Yoga" and I stared at it for a moment, my mind, my brain, my legs seized with exhaustion. I couldn't compute.
"We ask a pound for this. It goes to sick children." He looked at me with clear gray eyes, and I mentally traced the embroidered outline of his colorful cap.
"You know, I am on the economy version of London. A pound is a huge amount of money to me. Here, take the book back. I'll give you twenty pence as a donation."
His eyes aren't lying, I thought. This money may never see sick children, but he believes it will.
I opened my change purse and tried to figure out which coin was twenty pence. Ah, the one that looks like a nickle. I handed him the coin. His eyes never left my face.
"It's almost four o'clock." The man didn't wear a watch, but he recited the time, kept staring at my eyes, and I glanced down the street, nervous, ready to move on if only he would let me go. "We have a free vegetarian feast every Sunday, it's at the temple. Here, it's just across the street. There. See it? Please attend. There's no obligation. Free for everyone."
Free? The rain tapped my umbrella. What the heck. I waved goodbye and crossed the street, opened an unassuming door under a carved wooden sign: "Hare Krishna Temple." I followed a rumble of chanting voices to a second story room, removed my shoes at the door, and sat in the back as a handful of devotees praised the sky, the universe, the birds, the blades of grass.
We chant our blessings in all corners of this world. Why do we fear each other so much? I smiled at the men and women, let them blanket the room with belief, joined them at the table for brown rice and vegetable casseroles. They didn't ask anything from me, just let me eat, let me tell them about my life in the United States.
I left the women a handful of Avon samples, walked back to my room under dark gray skies.
Today I am walking to the National Gallery, then Westminster Cathedral, walking along the Thames and seeing the House of Parliament, the London Eye, everything there is to see.
2:46:29 AM 
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