Search for the African Baba (saint)

Back in Pushkar, we had reflexology treatments from a very nice Indian doctor. We asked if he did palm reading. He said there was a saint named the African Baba that was the best and most accurate palm reader in town but that he did not work for money and he had to be in the right mood. He is 93 yrs old and speaks perfect English, according to the doctor.

So one afternoon we set out to find this man. We knew he lived behind the Rama Ashram and by the Hanuman Temple and his house was behind a gate with guard dogs. When we got to the temple there were many Indians ready to offer advice for a few rupees. One man told us to wait and asked another vendor across the street for directions. When he returned he asked a younger man to take us. Too easy, we think!

We arrive at a house with a gate and dogs. The young man shouts behind the gate in Hindi. A very old man appears and waves us in. When we get up to him he speaks only Hindi and has no idea what we want. Daniel, still believing this is him, touches his feet, as is done to show respect to a saint. We talk amongst ourselves and gently leave saying namaste, namaste! He looked like a saint - eyes glowing and sparkling, robes flowing - but he doesn't speak English so we know he is not the African Baba we seek.

We decide to return to the temple and rethink what we were told. We ask another man for the Rama Ashram and he points across the street in the opposite direction we came from. So, we walk down a dirt alley behind a so-called ashram and see two men standing by a running car with a woman inside. They are speaking in Hindi to each other. We interrupt and ask if they have heard about the African Baba? No, but maybe these men do. We are led to a very tiny abode with two men sitting in meditation pose on the floor, both around eighty years old. They speak only Hindi but tell our interpreters that they think he may be back towards town . The men offer to take us there but they have a very small car with three already. They tell us to get in.

Lara and I cram into the back seat while Daniel crams into the front with the other two men. In the back I sit next to a frail woman around sixty. Her husband tells us that the man in the tiny house is a healer and that he has helped his wife overcome cancer. "Today is the happiest day of my life," he says, "because today she is cancer-free." They had been coming to see this man for over eight months after being told that surgery was the only other alternative by M.D.'s. He also tells us that she is his life, his only love, and that without her life has no meaning, so he would do whatever it takes to save her for himself and their children. When I look at her she is frail, very thin and weak. I try not to fall into her as the car maneuvers back and forth. She speaks no English and does not talk due to her cancer but she is beautiful, with large brown eyes and soft, sunken features. When we leave the car I ask him to tell her we will pray for her and I place my hands in prayer at my chest. She puts her fragile hands on mine and bows. When I get out I start to cry, not because of all of the pain she has obviously endured, but because of the love between them. One that will obviously last more than one lifetime.

We did not find the saint, but we did find something else: true love between a man and a woman that shines across all cultures and geographical locations into the hearts of all.