Again, I seem to be the only American. Children and women grab me asking for money. Finally, I figure out a way to deal these innumerable pleadings – I speak in a different language. They walk away and now I can give money to whomever I choose. One of the problems is that I am here off-season, so there are fewer tourists to choose from. The place is crowded with Indian people praying and chanting and I feel that I have entered their sacred world.
This is also called the monkey temple:
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