Kareli - Gajera - Ankhi - 17 km / 11 miles
I wake up early to the sound of drums and cymbals and head into the wash closet to use the neglected western-style toilet. As I pee I watch a spider in the corner spinning her web, her long limbs conducting to the rhythm of the music. It seems more evident in India that everything is connected, that life is one eternal dance. Outside a frail man is seated on the ground next to the garden bed dipping his fingers in a bowl of water, flicking the droplets at the marigolds. Large monkeys thunder across the metal rooftops full of morning exuberance. The heavyset man who hosted lunch yesterday arrives bringing us chai and a plate of puffy round pastries for breakfast. We learn the frail man is his brother who has cancer. After eating we sign the dharamsala guest book and make one last visit inside Gandhi’s shelter before walking into the sunrise towards Gajera. The route is beautiful - much of it on the paved Dandi Path so pleasant for walking and we see a cactus, peacocks and roosters and farmers tending to the morning milking of their water buffalo. Puffs of blown cotton caught on twigs identify the crops in the fields as we follow along behind men carrying dabbas or lunch pails on their way to work.
Gajera seems quiet upon first entering. The streets are empty of women and children but some men are setting up their stalls of flowers and produce. There are the old style pukka buildings with wall paintings less faded than most I have seen, another sculpted milking maiden sign and a cotton depot with cotton piled high as the snowbanks of my Montreal childhood! We ask for directions to the banyan tree where Gandhi had spoken. We walk through town searching for it but can’t locate it and circle back. Still looking for the tree, a kind man escorts us there. It is a massive banyan and significant as Gandhi kept the crowd here waiting for hours, refusing to speak to them until the Harijans (Dalits) were invited to sit in the audience comprised of the higher castes. (Eventually they were included while some of the higher caste members left.) It’s a lovely spot but littered with signs of alcohol consumption, illegal in the dry state of Gujarat and discouraging next to a Gandhi memorial site.
We have an early start to our night halt in the Classic Hotel on the outskirts of Ankhi. I relax, shower and laundry, laying it out on the flat roof outside my window to dry within the hour. After dark Erico returns to the banyan tree with Tahir to photograph its illicit night life.