As I was trying to figure out how to make the damn toilet flush, the cockroach came back to life and started paddling around in the water! So I closed the lid, took my bucket bath and got dressed. Afterwards, I very cautiously lifted the lid to find that he had become completely reanimated and was now swimming frantically, trying to get out of the toilet! Agh!!
I slammed the lid back down and went into the living room to tell my host that I couldn't flush the toilet. He went into the bathroom for a few minutes and then came back out. When I checked the toilet again, it was clear that he had not had much luck flushing it either, but the cockroach was gone. I'm not sure where it went. And I don't ever want to find out.
Breakfast was not good. I had two bites of something sweet and a greasy little doughball. Our hosts took us to see the Ibrahim Rauza, or Black Taj Mahal...
... and the Gol Gumbaz - a huge dome so acoustically amazing that even a whisper echoes seven times.
It's hot and dry and dusty. My host family is okay, but I get the feeling they're laughing quite a bit at my expense. I'm actually getting a little tired of being stared at. Everywhere we go, people look at us. Little kids run up and ask, "What is your name?" and want to shake our hands.
"Excuse me, Madam? Madam?"
"What is your name? Madam?"
I know I should just relax and enjoy the experience. After all, if it was like being home it wouldn't be an adventure, right? But for some reason, I keep expecting to come to the next town and it being more like my own. Where toilets flush and people have shower curtains and Kleenex. And there aren't cows and pigs walking down the street.
How does one get used to this?
I miss Wolf and our house. It's bad today. On a positive note, I did have my first Indian motorcycle ride this morning. That was pretty fun. My host doesn't have a car so he drove me to meet the others on his bike. So yeah, that was a good thing. I guess it could certainly be worse, I know.