And Another Install

        Cipro is a wonderful thing: took one last night, and I’m feeling significantly better already. Hearing’s still a little goofy, but I suppose that doesn’t matter much if I can’t understand the language everybody’s speaking, huh?
        Murphy’s Law again: our work last night to facilitate a smooth install today does little good. We’re surprised with slightly different models on some of the computer than we expected, necessitating a rebuild of the software package that sucks up several hours. And then there are the IBMs, or more accurately what were once machines worth enough to put a brand name on. Now, they’re pieces of hardware in varying stages of decay, reliable for little more than paperweights. And another surprise: the power fluctuates in the half-finished school building where we’re supposed to install the computers so much that they shut down every several minutes. We cart all the machines back to the guest house’s more stable current, and our shortage of outlets makes me contemplate setting up one of the computers in the bathroom. The cord doesn’t reach, so my hair’s not standing up.
        So I’m sitting in my hotel room alone, working on the computers, and relieved that I can take my shirt off in the heat, as there’s nobody around whose sense of decency I can offend. A few minutes later, 3 dudes who were either teachers or from the press stop by, but I stay shirtless: they just peek in for a few minutes and then leave. All of a sudden, they come back and others follow, making it like 6 people in the room, all with button-down shirts and one with none. They trickled in, so I didn’t know if it would be more rude to just get up when, say, the seventh person came in and pop a shirt on or just pretend that all Americans sit around shirtless when they work on installing computers in their hotel room. But best is who some of the newcomers were: the female computer teacher who’s so shy around guys that she’s hesitant to even talk to Sameer or I. And the dudes to her sides? The old one’s her dad, and the guy who answers “no, nothing like that” when I ask them if they have any questions is her brother. Just gotta keep telling myself that I’m the wacky American, they’ll understand...
        There’s not exactly an after-dark life, let alone nightlife, here, so we successfully install, eat dinner, and head back to the guesthouse. My entertainment for the night is throwing CDs at the ceiling fan so that they ricochet to attack Sameer, which is enjoyable for the 10 minutes it takes until I pass out.

<links> <pictures> <writings> <me>