In Search Of Internet Access

Indeed, there is much to tell and I only write about what's top of mind when I find internet access.

There was some good news for the marcher today. Today's newspapers carried a story of Rajaropal's visit Sonia Gandhi in Delhi. The march's organizers say it's now public knowledge that Sonia Gandhi has promised to land reform policies. One of the men who talked to me yesterday approached me again today to tell me some of my comments are in several of today's newspapers. I remember now I did give another interview while he was talking to us.

I don't know about all these interviews. I can't tell who's media and who's just taking pictures because they happen to have a camera. I talk to so many people I don't know if I'm just chatting or giving an interview. I hope whatever is printed or broadcast does not make me say things that will harm the march's cause.

Today, I am covered in tar. I sat in some at lunch and the more I try to wipe the stuff from my pants, the more the stuff spreads all over my clothes. I splurged and bought a new outfit from a vendor.

The hotel we're staying at, for five nights at that, is one of the worst places I've ever had to spend time in. Our room is too cramped for three. There are three mats on the floor for sleeping and a tiny squatter washroom. There is no walking room. After a long march the first night, Lisa and Shannon began bathing and doing their laundry. There was no room for me to even stand in the now steamy room. I sat in the garage to cool down. There, I met some new foreign arrivals for the march. Encouraged by their example, I obtained my own room.

So that's how I got in some much needed alone time. But last night, one of the French women asked if she could share my room. She arrived at the hotel the first night late and found no room assigned to her. So she bunked with two men on the march. The hotel staff found out about it the second night and made a fuss. We don't know whether it's hotel policy or village morality that prohibits her from sharing a room with the men. Regardless, she's now bunking with me.

I think I am getting into a rhythm for the march. The trick is to walk by myself and talk to whoever is nearby. I dare say I am even enjoying the march, though the sun is still angry and blistery.

Okay, my adventure in town.

Yesterday afternoon, the march camped right beside the hotel. Having decided I would not eat the lunch the marchers provided, I headed into town in search of a cyber cafe. One of the translators had been the night before and told me of a cafe that had five computers and it would cost about 5 Rupees to go the 2 km by rickshaw. So I flagged down a rickshaw and went. The driver confirmed it would cost 5 Rupees to get to the cyber cafe. A few minutes later, he stopped a friend on the road and asked me to get into the other rickshaw.

This new driver took me through several busy markets and traffic jams. Each time I asked him where he was going and to express I think he's gone too far, he say, Okay, okay. Finally, he stopped beside a vendor and gestured for me to ask for the location of a cyber cafe. The vendor told us where there is one and gave the driver the address. When I got there, I had to go to several shops to ask which was the cyber cafe. Then I paid the rickshaw driver.

I thought I would be generous and offer him 10 Rupees. He balked and demanded 50. I complained about him not knowing where he was going and taking me way out of the way, though I knew he didn't understand me. A boy came up and they conferred. The boy turned to me and said, 200 Rupees. They started demanding 200. It was my turn to balk and complain some more, gesturing how the driver took me from another rickshaw without knowing where the cyber cafe was. I also started to feel panicky, as if they could hurt me if they really wanted to, and no one knew where I was. I thrust the 10 Rupees out again and walked away. The poor man looked so defeated. He called out, Okay 30 Rupees. I refused. So he went his way and I went mine.

Once inside the cyber cafe, I realized I had no idea where I was and I didn't know the name of the hotel where I was staying. Now panic really set in. I took a deep breath and made a plan. I needed to finish at the cyber cafe before dark, and while there was a young customer in the cafe who spoke spattering English, I needed him to set me up to go home before he left the cafe. I remembered I had gone to a Sikh temple the night before and took photographs. The temple is a one-minute walk from the hotel. So I whipped out my camera and showed the young man and cafe owner photographs of the temple. They recognized it immediately and wrote the name of it in Sanscrit for me. The cafe owner even ventured to write the street name the temple sits on.

When I finished at the internet cafe, I flagged down another rickshaw and showed him the writing on my piece of paper. The driver recognized it and said, 20 Rupees. That's how I made it home.

That adventure made me feel alive and confident. I think I court danger.