Ok so today started early… way too early. I woke up at 4:55 without an alarm. I went to bed around 12 because I couldn’t sleep. The body is very mysterious. So I got up, took a shower. Tried to figure out which of my 6 pieces of clothing was the cleanest, rather least dirtiest. It all kinda sort of matches, because I care SOO much. Anyway so I put on this white fishing shirt (I have the identical shirt in blue and olive) (thanks gander mountain) the shirt really is awesome. Its Columbia and the sleeves roll up and button so they don’t roll down and the chest has two breast pockets that are ventilated and snap and the back is ventilate too, like bathing suit wholey material, but not nearly as uncomfortable as the bathing suit material in my pants. I digress.
So white shirt, olive pants, the kind with the uncomfortable bathing suit material, gander mountain wool socks, which surprisingly are very comfortable and wick away lots of moisture. They also keep your feet from ever going below body temperature, because I figured in case India is just like Ohio, and decides to snow one day after being 90 the day before, my feet at least, would be warm. Digressing, again. But the water’s gone. So I need more.
So it’s 5:24 and Father is knocking on my door and saying “Teemmmm. Are you awaeekee” He pronounces his vowels slightly differently. I muttered a yes and continue packing my little backpack, water bottle, paper journal, computer, book to read, knife, and somehow got 2 whole packages of pepto bismal in there. That’s 60 tablets. NO idea why both were in there, but I was ready for some really upset stomachs. I took my still camera and little video camera and my watch. Boom. Let’s go!
So I went to the kitchen, just as the last of the hard boiled eggs was being placed into the plastic bag. The same bag with the glass tea cups and metal silverware and dishware. This is going to end well, whatever. I decided not to argue and grabbed thermos of hot milk and hot water. I got to the car and the driver still wasn’t there. Background: the driver is one of the workers in the workshop. He is a pro at the art of horn honking. Like I don’t even see his hands move. He’s like Moses. He honks, cars move. That and he has kinda a beard. Other than that, I don’t see many similarities, but then again, I never met Moses. So he finally gets there via bicycle and climbs in the truck as do we. 545 LETS DO IT. I’m over emphasizing my excitement for going to see the ruins of the oldest university in the world. I was in the middle of a really really weird dream. One I would have really liked to see how it ended.
So we start driving. And about 30 minutes later were stopped. Traffic jam numero Uno. Not to be discouraged, we take the dirt shoulder. It’s sloped and has piles of dirt, piles of sand, and piles of garbage. But none of it mattered to our fearless driver; he only saw it as drivable terrain. He obviously thinks more, much more about the vehicle's capability than I do at this point. So after about 3 miles of mound climbing descending honking and swerving, we made it to a gravel truck lot or detour. It looked like it led to the middle of a rice field, I think it did, but again, it was terrain. There was some dirt there too, and gravel. No problem. Good work driver. So hey we made it back to the traffic jam, but we did take the scenic route. So we joined the line of cars and finally made it to our exit to another highway. Sorry, more water
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