Today has been the best and worst of India, it really has. Everything that I love and hate about this country, sandwiched into one hectic day.

On the commuter train this morning, a half-dressed child sang with a piercingly sweet voice. She was accompanied by her older brother, maybe ten, who was lugging around a gigantic accordian, playing it surprisingly well. Another child repeatedly tugged at my arm, asking for money.

I never give money to children, and i didn't make an exception this morning, but I felt more awful than usual about it.

The morning was so humid that i almost swam to work, coughing on clouds of dust. Ignored the usual stares. I think it's because I wore my hair down today. (*gasp*) I'm never sure what it is.. i try so hard to blend in, but they always know.

Went straight into a meeting in which adolescent girls sat on straw mats with CIDA and UNICEF officials to display the results of intensive HIV/AIDS and gender empowerment training. It was so wonderful to hear about and to get to hear all the stories (amidst much giggling).

From there, we went to a health post in an area I hadn't visited yet. A man was passed out on the road, heedless of the relentless midday sun. I looked away. We passed a stiff dead baby cow on the side of the road. I got teary. At the health post, we heard about a suicide pact involving a couple and their young daughter. I tried not to notice the steady stream of ants circling the floor. Why is it that you see one ant and suddenly you can feel them all over your body?

We made progress on a networking project. That was good. Baby steps feel incredible in the mazelike bureaucracy of this health system.

On the way home, a thin young woman came up to the car and pressed her emaciated baby up to the window. I cried.

I don't know why, but I was so much more sensitive to everything today. Maybe it's because I talked to everyone from home this morning, and so i was thinking about them and Thanksgiving celebrations, and autumn crispness, and how different life can be.

It's awful, but usually I don't even react to the beggars and the fly-covered people sleeping on the street. I hear stories about young women being raped and i don't even blink. Maybe I've become desensitized. Maybe it's a coping strategy. Maybe I don't react because it simply doesn't make a difference whether or not I get upset.

For some reason, the last straw was the sight of a woman about my age carefully arranging her sari about herself to preserve her modesty as she went to the toilet on the side of a busy intersection. I know that 75% of the homes in the slum don't have toilets, and the lack of dignity seems like the most horrible thing... imagine having to crouch at the side of the road, beside all the cars stopped at a red light. In the crowded slum underneath the bridge, there is really nowhere to go. People everywhere. Not even a tree or a corner for privacy. That moment was the rock bottom of my day. I'm sure her day was much more difficult.

Back at the hospital, I washed my face and sat directly under the fan and tried to work. Community women brought in a huge pile of gorgeous diwali candles they had made through an income generation project.

At the end of the day, I went down to the canteen for a cup of sweet, spicy chai, and I managed to order it all by myself. Then my co-worker read my palm, because she studied the art while in college (I will have only one great love in my life, work and travel will always be entwined, and i'm due to inherit a lot of money).

I took the long way home, and i ran into a friend on the street... i can do that now! I actually know enough people to bump into someone and sit and have a drink with them. Got invited to Diwali celebrations with a Hindu family in Jaipur, twelve hours away.

And now I'm here. Good day? Bad day? Who knows.

8:00 p.m. - 2003-10-13