i'm sitting next to one of those people who talks to his computer. I'm not going to say that it's wrong to laugh out loud at a joke you're reading, or swear if the computer seizes up and deletes the email you've been writing for half an hour (and how many times has this happened to me since i left Canada?)

but constant monologues on whatever you're reading? It's a machine, buddy. And the rest of us don't care.

Ugh. Cybercafes. Stop looking over my damn shoulder while i type! I miss my computer... i've started writing my entries at home, in my room. Then i just bring them here and transcribe:

What a feeling it is to be settled. I have a room with a harbour view (if you look at the horizon and ignore the garbage-filled wasteland directly outside my building). I have a radio that alternates Hindi hits with random, predominantly 80s, english music. I have books to read, lunch plans, and hot coffee in my new yellow mug. A whole day off. Glorious.

Munching on figs (iron source!) i bought at the market yesterday. I can't get over the hospitality of this country. I stepped into a store for the figs, and was offered tastes of dates, sweets, pickle, biscuits. A handful of cashews. They insisted i sit on a rickety metal stool and drink a cup of spicy masala chai.

People see that I'm not from here, and they just go so far out of their way to make sure that I'm comfortable and that I'm appreciating all that India has to offer. Do we do this for foreigners at home?

3:54 p.m. - 2003-09-28