I have made it to India safe and sound…much sounder than any of the internet connections that I have come across. The hotel that I am staying at has wireless but it is patchy at best. I waited for a half hour the other day for it to finally connect and was able to enjoy 15 to 20 minutes of workable internet…long enough to be able to send emails to everyone under the sun to let them know that I was ok. And then, like clockwork, the second I start to check other things that aren’t as valuable…the connection goes down.
Currently I am sitting in the first day of the Global Voices conference…a group of people known for their multitasking. I spent most of the time, between taking notes on what was being said, chatting with my Mom. This is probably a good reason for me not to have my computer with me during class time. But let’s also note the coolness of the situation…I am sitting in a conference in New Delhi and typing with my Mom in Price Utah just as I would if I was a work.
I have several pictures that I want to put up, but they might have to wait until I get back home because it seems to take forever for these things to get loaded up here. Man, am I spoiled with my cable line and my T1 line at work.
The taxi/motor ricksaw thing is totally crazy here. If you have read Harry Potter he talks about the Night Bus fitting into impossible spaces and going very fast….they must have been thinking about India when they wrote that, because I am not sure how they fit where they did, and how they did it without killing us all. I always thought that Istanbul drivers were bad….turkey is nothing compared to here. Once I accepted that I was going to die, I began to have a lot of fun.
I went shopping with a Bahraini blogger yesterday…I had a lot of fun but I spent way too much money and I have been beating myself up about it. Partly because I wanted to spend more than what I did and still want to spend more and the other side of me who is angry because I shouldn’t have spent anything because it all needs to go to rent at the end of the month. Then again, how often is one in India? Either way I keep going back and forth on it. Like to the point of making myself cry over it.