So, after arranging an AC car- yes, we paid for it- watching buses going by with people crammed in every which-way, made the decision easy. Although our driver was knowledgeable and the ride smooth despite numerous near misses with large oxes and diesel trucks, it took many hours to arrive and it was too late after getting to Aavanaa and negotiating price and rooms with the management to get to the CMC main campus for registration.
On the road: honking is wildly encouraged- every truck with language like "sound yourself!" Lots of very large projects are in the making: Hyundai plants, Motorola compounds. They will bus hundreds of employees out from town every day.
Vellore is a largish town, the least savory street scene being in front of the hospital where we are. Many beggar children grab your pants and follow for blocks. Most folks with disabilities congregate here- it makes sense. The hospital itself is imposing and large with steady streams of people in and out. We will see tomorrow what it holds.
We rickshawed out to CMC which is a good 15 min ride with four of us crammed into the back! After wandering around the engineering school which was beautiful filled with gardens and scented flowers, we registered at the principals office and signed up.
Despite everyone's advice, we are saving CHAD for the last week and starting pediatrics tomorrow. Child's health is at the main hospital and we are completely unsure of what it will entail- rounds? bedside? clinic? hours? OK, we did get that it is on the 5th floor of the "new" building. We also received ID's.
We found this internet cafe by wandering around the "downtown?" area near Hotel Darling.
BTW, we have an unencumbered view of the Rotary Field from our hotel which is really just a huge dirt area where we can watch 24hr Cricket, played by hundreds of boys of all ages.
I can't believe how much they run, in full pants and button-downs in the intense afternoon heat. Without a coach yelling at them!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
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For a bit of local excitement, you should go down to the cricket pitch, yell "Long live Pakistan!", and just see what happens. I'll bet the little dears will take a sudden interest in you. Better yet, first wrap yourself in the Pakistani flag.
Just out of curiosity, do the children speak much English? And do they have a generic word for "foreigner" or "white person" with which they address you? How about the beggars? In East Africa, the adult beggars would accost me with "Jambo, rafiki, would you be my friend?" and follow me for blocks, while the children would just point and say "Mzungu" (white man). Usually I would tell them, in Swahili, that I was Canadian, and they would just get really confused and leave me alone.
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