As for Coimbatore, my memory is like a succession of snapshots. The big fans creaking at the airport, the vast dry countryside seen from the plane. The wall of faces and bodies when I came out of the airport, and those two guys who took my bag for me, one missed a eye, the other an arm. I think I gave them something like 20 or 50 dollars, lost, not knowing what to do. Geez...
On the way back, I didn't really see Chennai, except some dark red palaces from the taxi. I was exhausted, dehydrated, and sick as hell! I hadn't taken a shower for a month (I used a bucket of water because of the drought)nor slept in a comfortable bed (I slept on a metal bed with a very, very thin matress). So I slept, and I was feeling miserable to leave this place and those kids that had become like brothers and sisters to me (They called me "anna" which meant "big brother" in Tamil)...
But I was too sick and sad to move. So I just stayed there, in the hotel.
Once again, I wish i had done something.
But that was a long time ago...
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