16th August

Today it was raining again when I woke up to go the gym. It is very nice here when it rains, if a little flooded and muddy. It’s comforting to feel the drops, and feel clean again, and almost as if I am back in Scotland, where it is raining all the time.

Lauren and I went out to get our wifi sorted at the Vodafone shop today. It took three and a half hours to get a USB modem, a SIM card for it and to fill in two forms. Bloody useless people. Apparently they need to come and visit us at the hostel as well to make sure we live here, because evidently our government stamped proof of address is a lie. So they are coming on Tuesday afternoon. If they don’t come, we will kill them all. I need wifi! Poor Iain is spending way too much money calling me and things…I feel really guilty, but there is not much I can do about it at the moment. Reliance wasn’t open…so no recharge. I don’t know if I can be bothered trying to sort out my phone credit issues. I just want to be able to call home!

We had to repair to coffee day to recover from the Vodafone horror. But, shock horror, the coffee day in Model Town has no bathroom! Not good.

The rain began almost as soon as we left the café and continued as we walked to the top of the road to get an auto. By that point, a distance of 200 metres, we were soaked to the skin. It was an incredibly pleasant feeling: to be wet to the skin, but not with sweat. It felt cleansing, unlike yesterday in the mud pool of Parana Ganj.

By the time we got into the hostel in time for afternoon tea, we were dripping wet. The nuns in the foyer giggled at us as we squelched in to the mess and squelched out again after our tchai. I have eaten quite a lot today, which is encouraging. I think the gym this morning has increased my appetite. I will need to begin going more often! That, or find salad, but I doubt I ever will except at Café Turtle.

We watched the remainder of Raising Arizona tonight: the one good Nicholas cage film in existence. It’s a Coen Bros film, so you know it is going to be completely whacky and brilliant, even with the Cage. He looks like my dad did when he was younger, except dad had black hair of course. But the general tall frame, largish nose and moustache are a striking resemblance to my father’s. I should really have spent this time reading Tom Jones…but oh well. I am beginning to lose interest in the lull that is Book 8. 259 pages down…500 or so to go. If I get it read by the end of term I will be happy.