I'll write whatever I want, dammit
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Home for the Holidays

In a few short hours, I will be flying back to DC.

I left DC while it was still warm and the trees were still green. It was steamy hot in Mumbai, and nice and warm in Chennai and Kolkata. It will be a real shock when I walk out of the airport and feel the chill of yet another nasty east coast winter, and I have no warm clothes with me. I haven’t needed a jacket yet this year, and I have kind of gotten used to it. Reminder to self: must move south.

It’s ok, I understand if you feel bad for me, but don’t cry too much. I’ll get over it, because in a little over two weeks I’ll be flying to Cambodia. Darn, it will only be in the low 80’s there...

Try to stay warm, ok?

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Candy for the Kids

Today was a local Muslim holiday, so we only went in for work for about half of a day to do paperwork and such. I had a free afternoon, and I noticed on the map that one of the larger Mother Theresa Orphanages is only a few blocks away.

As most of you know, I am absolutely crazy about
kitties (especially orphans), and I have been feeding some of the strays that come around work and the hotel throughout my trip - dogs, too. What some of you may not realize is that I have a soft spot for children, too (especially orphans). I spent a nice chunk of money (even by our standards) on some candy and cookies and fruit and worked my way over there and played with the kids for a couple of hours. Some of them were so cute, I even had the thought of adopting one for a second or so, then reason got the better of me.

They seemed to have a good time and the sheer number of them made me feel pretty bad, but the nuns are awesome and tireless, and there were some prospective parents checking the place out. It is sad and hopeful at the same time - kind of a bizarre cocktail. If you ever get the chance, go there. It will make their day, and maybe yours too.

One of the nuns started crying and she said that nobody ever comes by just to spend time with the kids, and that is what they need the most. I find it hard to imagine that I was the only one who had ever thought of this. One little boy - about three or so - held my hand for over an hour, smiling and taking me around and introducing me to his friends and the nuns, and helping me pass out the goods. India can be a cold place sometimes, the upper classes have no concern at all for the lower classes. These children are “untouchables” for some reason that eludes me.

I may be Godless, but I’m certainly not soulless.


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"State-Sponsored Terrorism"

I promised not to get political on this site, but that doesn’t stop me from being political (and angry) somewhere else.

So if you want to, you can read this, but you don’t have to.

If you want a happy story, you can go here.

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