Washing up last night, Chandler and I were afraid the colors would never come off. Gradually our faces turned light purple, and this morning we still have spots in our ears and hair.

Because of morning exams, we'll go to the ashram later. Caroline, Tracy, Chandler and I walk around the town, looking for a beauty shop to give aryuvedic oil treatments. We hop on a rickshaw and try on salwar kameez and then split up, Chandler and I going to an internet cafe. On the way back to the hotel we stop at a vendor stall that's the Cuttack version of 7-11. We buy a dozen henna pens for the girls, and Chandler spots a box of Kit-Kat candies and goes crazy. I ask the proprietor if I can take a snap of her in front of the shop, and he cracks up as if this is the funniest thing he's ever heard of. "What country?" he asks. "U.S." we answer - "Texas."

"Oh, George Bush," he replies knowingly. Then he asks, "Is close to Chicago?"

We head to the ashram at 2. When the children greet us, Daina runs and throws herself in my arms. There's more art time, and then the playground and games in the play yard. When the children are called for a snack, the volunteers go up to the apartment to organize gifts for the kids.

Soon the prayer bell rings. The prayer mats are set up in the courtyard outside tonight, which we are thankful for. It's hot, and last night the prayer room was very stuffy. At the end of prayer, Papa thanks us all - Caroline, Baxter, Doctor Tracy, Shelley, James, Sweetie. Then the children stand up one at a time and say "Thanks" before running off. It's cute, but I want to say it's us who should be thanking them.