I wrote a really long entry, which was erased by this internet connection. I heard stories about this happening in internet cafes, but really? My first time in one?
Today marks the second full day in India. I don’t have jet lag – a bartender’s dream for switching my sleep schedule completely around. The time difference is 12.5 hours from PST. I arrived in Chennai after nearly 40 hours in transit and some awkward encounters with wierdos who persistently called me beautiful for five hours straight at the Delhi airport. One was a marketing professor from Kolkata who gave me his business card three times to ensure that our “beautiful friendship will blossom starting tomorrow.” Hah. If only he knew that I kept running away to get away from him. Unfortunately, terminals are small enough to be found sitting at a different gate. Meredith, I blame you – he loved my earrings, which you gave me freshman year.
I have a roommate named Mary from Michigan who is entering medical school in the fall. She just wants to have a little life experience and fun before the ball starts rolling and she cannot travel for a long while. We share an extra hard, king-sized bed in a small room with a window AC unit and a tiny bathroom. The bathroom makes me laugh because it is so different – there is no shower STALL to confine water. Instead, there is a drain in the floor next to the toilet, which gets all wet while bathing. The toilet, a real toilet (as opposed to a hole in the ground, probably making our room relatively expensive), comes with a hose (not T.P.) to… clean oneself after using the restroom. It’s all fun and good, except for the hole in our wall called a window that mosquitoes can enter through.
The heat here is indescribable. It is like a wet, hot, wool blanket always shrouds me. It’s really obvious by my dress and profuse sweat that I’m not from around here. It topped 40 degrees Celsius today (not as bad as Hydrabad, which was 46).
I’m really bad at bargaining, which you need to do to get anywhere around here. To Hande Hospital, it should be R40 per ride, split between the riders. To Uma Eye Clinic it should be R30. I can get a reasonable fare on the way to these places because the gap-toothed teenager who helps run the hostel amorously helps me, the light-skinned girl, bargain. Coming back, though, is difficult. Most autorickshaw drivers jut drive away from me. I then give in an settle for a higher price.
I’m being kicked off the computer at this café. I already have stories about an eye camp 60km away from the city, a hernia surgery, cataract surgeries, and food. Until later.
Oh, and sorry about the lack of pictures. This computer doesn’t have a USB port, so I cannot upload anything. Plus, my pics are 10mp, so it will be an excruciatingly long process on this internet connection.
Have a good morning!
Today marks the second full day in India. I don’t have jet lag – a bartender’s dream for switching my sleep schedule completely around. The time difference is 12.5 hours from PST. I arrived in Chennai after nearly 40 hours in transit and some awkward encounters with wierdos who persistently called me beautiful for five hours straight at the Delhi airport. One was a marketing professor from Kolkata who gave me his business card three times to ensure that our “beautiful friendship will blossom starting tomorrow.” Hah. If only he knew that I kept running away to get away from him. Unfortunately, terminals are small enough to be found sitting at a different gate. Meredith, I blame you – he loved my earrings, which you gave me freshman year.
I have a roommate named Mary from Michigan who is entering medical school in the fall. She just wants to have a little life experience and fun before the ball starts rolling and she cannot travel for a long while. We share an extra hard, king-sized bed in a small room with a window AC unit and a tiny bathroom. The bathroom makes me laugh because it is so different – there is no shower STALL to confine water. Instead, there is a drain in the floor next to the toilet, which gets all wet while bathing. The toilet, a real toilet (as opposed to a hole in the ground, probably making our room relatively expensive), comes with a hose (not T.P.) to… clean oneself after using the restroom. It’s all fun and good, except for the hole in our wall called a window that mosquitoes can enter through.
The heat here is indescribable. It is like a wet, hot, wool blanket always shrouds me. It’s really obvious by my dress and profuse sweat that I’m not from around here. It topped 40 degrees Celsius today (not as bad as Hydrabad, which was 46).
I’m really bad at bargaining, which you need to do to get anywhere around here. To Hande Hospital, it should be R40 per ride, split between the riders. To Uma Eye Clinic it should be R30. I can get a reasonable fare on the way to these places because the gap-toothed teenager who helps run the hostel amorously helps me, the light-skinned girl, bargain. Coming back, though, is difficult. Most autorickshaw drivers jut drive away from me. I then give in an settle for a higher price.
I’m being kicked off the computer at this café. I already have stories about an eye camp 60km away from the city, a hernia surgery, cataract surgeries, and food. Until later.
Oh, and sorry about the lack of pictures. This computer doesn’t have a USB port, so I cannot upload anything. Plus, my pics are 10mp, so it will be an excruciatingly long process on this internet connection.
Have a good morning!
