Ain't that fine? It's a 4x6, silk on silk, intricately-detailed, hand-made concoction.
I wish we had some grand excuse for buying it, like that time in Turkey when a simple cup of tea forced us into buying that other carpet (that made for a better story than this one, but this makes for a better carpet), but we don't. We just really liked it.
In other news, we are, in fact, leaving today for Amurca. Don't worry, we'll be back in less than a week. Should be an interesting and exhausting trip. Our old friend Krishnan (from Dushanzi... well, he's from India, but we worked with him in Dushanzi) finally showed up here last night to cover Matt's work while he's away. It was really good catching up with Krish and watching him chug a couple nasty Kingfishers. It should come as no surprise that he doesn't want to be in Baroda any more than we do, even though it is his native land. He just got off a six month job in Osaka, Japan, where he ate enough sushi and drank enough sake to kill a small horse. Consequently, he is now stuck here, with the rest of us lowly creatures.
In other news, Baroda still sucks... possibly even worse than before. The rainy season, which I thought was ending, has somehow re-started, right back from the very beginning. It's been raining every day, all day, just like before. Bleh. However, I did see the most marvelous sight on Monday. Four grown Indian men squatting down and cutting the grass in the courtyard - by hand. Don't ask me why, but this brought me so much joy and comfort. They have been at it for three days and are still not finished. Naturally, I took pictures. I still get tickled looking at these.
Before you all get all offended, let me tell you that yes, I see what a demeaning and terrible job this is, especially when I hear the hotel has an actual lawn mower that they won't let them use. Maybe the ground is too wet? Also, I seem to recall paying a 10-year-old boy $10 to cut our grass when I was a sophomore in college, which didn't seem too awful until one day I looked out the window and saw him on all fours plucking the blades with his hands. But that was only around the corners and edges where the mower couldn't reach... I think. Also, I was a sophomore in college and very poor, and $10 was all I could afford.
I think they're probably discussing other job prospects.
Not much else going on. We played snooker on Sunday in the "Billiards Room". At one point a hotel worker came in, sniffed the air suspiciously and said "Beer?". We assured him that no beer was on the premises. Obviously it was whiskey. Before you judge me, I think I remember explaining at some other point that the only way to get through a game of snooker is with alcohol. It is otherwise virtually impossible to do so.
Katie and Ryan. I know it looks like it here, but they're not dating. I don't think.
That's me, showing off my unparalleled snooker skills. I think I may have scored once. It definitely wasn't this time.
My artsy Matt picture. He only scored once, too.
I guess that about does it for this installment. More information that you could have possibly wanted, as always. I'll post again when I get back from Amurca. You can expect that to be a quite dismal one, as I'll be returning to India for the third time, and in this case, I'm pretty sure there'll be nothing charming about it.