A couple of days ago I walked in the afternoon. Usually try to get out by 10, although 9 is better. I manage to walk at least 3 miles a day even in the, oh so, hot weather. It takes about 2 liters of water to do it. Sometimes more. Sometimes I go out in the night but it is the most crowded then and if it isn't crowded, it may not be safe, although I've not felt unsafe for one minute here.
The shops don't open until 11, but people are generally getting ready by sweeping, the aforementioned favorite pastime. That afternoon the dogs were all rather sedentary. There are dogs everywhere. Usually lean and short haired and free as birds. They walk around like they own the place. Although usually alone, sometimes they walk in couples or trios, but always indifferent to people around them unless they see a treat coming their way. One has dug himself a crater in the dirt under the bushes and sleeps there all the time - I think it is cooler. It is really hot. I mean really, really hot.
Anyway I'm walking in the street, the sidewalks are either nonexistent or have cars parked on them and there's this dog. Sleeping half on the street half in the parking lane:
Later coming back, he must have gotten hot there so he moved here:
Both times he's out cold. Sleeping soundly. Like there are no cars going within a foot of his head, like nobody is beeping. Like nobody is walking around him. Taking a time out for a dog nap.
I've seen two long haired dogs so far and they had dreadlocks. Really mangy looking mutts. In the main, the dogs that look like they're doing well have the dingo look. None too large, none too small. Darwin could do a case study. A pretty happy, bright eyed bunch.
Speaking of happy, I saw a 3 year old in a stroller pushed by his grandma and grandpa with a cookie in her hand. She had a euphoric expression on her face and was looking at that cookie like it was the key to happiness. Then again, how much better does it get when your grandparents love and spoil you, buy you a cookie before dinner, you are lounging in your moving easy chair and you know your grandparents will do whatever your 3 year old heart desires? It doesn't get better than that.
Later I saw that some people got a brand new car and parked it right outside the entrance of the temple to get it blessed. The temple guy (not sure of his title) had the hood open and was smearing something on the valve cover - anointing it with something pasty looking. The whole family turned out in their good clothes, 3 generations by the look of it. I guess that's where I went wrong with my '88 Dakota - it had it's spare stolen, broken into at the train station and had the starter switch broken by a thief who couldn't start it so he couldn't steal it. For a while, it always stalled once after it warmed up and had a key broke in the door. Thus I had a left door key, a right door key, a starter key, a key for the lock on the bicycle cable around the spare and one for the cap on the bed, all different keys. If only I had known to go to an Indian neighborhood and start it off on a better footing.
For you contractors out there reading this, I watched a crew working raising floors on a tallish building. Someone dropped loads of stone, sand and cement on the street - big piles of the stuff. They had a mixer that raised a concrete buggy up the side of the building 6 stories and tipped it into a trough where I assume the other half of the crew put it where it belonged. The crew I could see were structured like this: 2 sets of 4 guys, one set for gravel, one for sand: one guy used a shovel that looks like a giant hoe to fill large, shallow wicker baskets and help them onto the heads of the other 3. One guy has a bucket and adds cement and another guy is the mix master - he adds water and directs the sand and gravel and cement guys. 3 baskets each of gravel and sand, 2 buckets of cement and enough water made a load. When it is ready, the last guy turns the mixer all the way back and it's load fills the buggy and it shoots up and dumps. Everybody had a job and they managed to stay out of each other's way and had the buggy going every 3 or 4 minutes. It was almost choreographed. They were really working hard and it was 110 degrees out. I imagine slackers were never hired back. I was happy to watch.
I keep asking the sisters here at the hospitals if they wouldn't get some brothers (male nurses) in an effort to bring balance to their organization. Here's a picture of 3 sisters, Abha, Deb's aide:
Deb is in bed and didn't want to be in the picture. They all think out loud and liberally communicate with each other. I try to stay out of the way and ignore the pandemonium until I hear "ROBBIN", probably not the first time I was called, which is my cue to look up and see what is going on, determine what only I can do and then do it. Immediately the chaos returns and I go back to my newspaper, email or ebook, whatever I'm trying to bury myself in. Which gives you the reason I try to get up, dressed, fed and out before they all converge on our room, if I'm lucky.
