<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772</id><updated>2011-04-22T06:18:12.678+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere In the Southern Part of Asia...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-1616671000386253512</id><published>2007-06-20T23:21:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2007-06-20T23:59:22.143+05:30</updated><title type='text'>L Town sights</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrVSIxNNI/AAAAAAAAADc/kjoGEpwy5Yc/s1600-h/IMG_2265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrVSIxNNI/AAAAAAAAADc/kjoGEpwy5Yc/s320/IMG_2265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078208068226987218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been living in this city off and on for the last ten months and have yet to see the fun and exciting touristy sights, until the other day. This used to be the capitol of the Nawab kingdom, between the fall of the Mughal empire and the British occupation, and there are plenty of palaces, mosques, gardens and other places to see. The first is from the palace roof looking at the mosque and part of the courtyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rnlt4CIxNRI/AAAAAAAAAD8/9xGTMk5x_yQ/s1600-h/IMG_2284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rnlt4CIxNRI/AAAAAAAAAD8/9xGTMk5x_yQ/s320/IMG_2284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078210864250696978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the main gate, behind the motorcycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrWCIxNPI/AAAAAAAAADs/BF7UafGQROI/s1600-h/IMG_2281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrWCIxNPI/AAAAAAAAADs/BF7UafGQROI/s320/IMG_2281.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078208081111889138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the steps leading down to the queen's pool, whose water level rises and falls with the water table and is seven stories from top to bottom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrVyIxNOI/AAAAAAAAADk/C3IlViTIlgg/s1600-h/IMG_2270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrVyIxNOI/AAAAAAAAADk/C3IlViTIlgg/s320/IMG_2270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078208076816921826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire top 3-4 floors of the palace is a labyrinth and it's almost impossible to get out without a guide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rnlt3yIxNQI/AAAAAAAAAD0/MH3bb7Xwpzk/s1600-h/IMG_2272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rnlt3yIxNQI/AAAAAAAAAD0/MH3bb7Xwpzk/s320/IMG_2272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078210859955729666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's just a normal sign on one of the walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rnlt3yIxNQI/AAAAAAAAAD0/MH3bb7Xwpzk/s1600-h/IMG_2272.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-1616671000386253512?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1616671000386253512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=1616671000386253512' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/1616671000386253512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/1616671000386253512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/06/l-town-sights.html' title='L Town sights'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnlrVSIxNNI/AAAAAAAAADc/kjoGEpwy5Yc/s72-c/IMG_2265.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-8059188779585646422</id><published>2007-06-14T10:14:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-06-14T11:01:29.269+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Everest's House</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSVyIxNKI/AAAAAAAAADE/vIhl-5V0iHg/s1600-h/IMG_2207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSVyIxNKI/AAAAAAAAADE/vIhl-5V0iHg/s320/IMG_2207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075788051724186786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, I heard that the house of Mr. Everest (the guy they named the mountain after) is somewhere nearby, so this weekend I set out to find it. I got up early in the morning, found a semi-reliable map, which was hand-drawn on notebook paper, and set out on my quest. I had walked for about 2 hours before I came to what I thought was it, but turned out to be the ruins of some other house. I asked a family that was having a picnic at the house I came to where this place was and they said it was on the other side of the mountain. Great. I searched around for another path that might take me the direction I wanted to go and found only one. This one took me through a small market where I asked if I was headed the right way, but no one seemed to know what I was talking about, so I kept walking. I came to another shop a little way's down the road and asked for directions and he told me to keep heading that way and when the road forks, take the higher road and after a little distance, the pavement will end and a dirt road will go way down and then back up again right to the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSWSIxNLI/AAAAAAAAADM/jWPFVyXVr9s/s1600-h/IMG_2208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSWSIxNLI/AAAAAAAAADM/jWPFVyXVr9s/s320/IMG_2208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075788060314121394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That seemed to work, and when I got to where the dirt road reached the bottom, there was an open field. But the field was filled with at least a dozen military personel carriers. I was convinced that I had made a wrong turn and ended up in some outpost, so I asked the closest soldier if the house was near here. He called one of the higher officers over for me to ask. Told him where I was headed and at this point I had been walking for at least 3 hours without ever sitting down and was content to be turned away. He seemed to be a bit shocked to see a white guy with only a water bottle and a camera by himself in the lower Himalayas and asked "Where did you walk from?" I told him I came from the next closest city, where I was staying. He said he would have to ask his supervisor if I could go. So he stepped away with a radio and came back a few minutes later and said "If anyone stops you, just say I (and gave me his name) said you could go" and pointed up the other side of the valley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSWiIxNMI/AAAAAAAAADU/mfDyPqFLe4I/s1600-h/IMG_2214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSWiIxNMI/AAAAAAAAADU/mfDyPqFLe4I/s320/IMG_2214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075788064609088706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got there I realized that there was a graduation or some other school function in front of the house and there were at least 200 or 300 middle- and highschoolers there and apparently the government uses the personel carriers for school buses for field trips. As soon as I got to the top, I heard sever voices yelling with excitement "Angrez! Angrez!" (that's Hindi for "gringo") and dozens of kids running towards me. Not wanting to disturb their meeting and really not wanting 200 kids trying to get an autograph or something like that, I decided to just start the 3 hour walk back. I had a nice walk and afterward I went to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-8059188779585646422?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8059188779585646422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=8059188779585646422' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/8059188779585646422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/8059188779585646422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/06/mr-everests-house.html' title='Mr. Everest&apos;s House'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RnDSVyIxNKI/AAAAAAAAADE/vIhl-5V0iHg/s72-c/IMG_2207.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-447438678086442187</id><published>2007-05-21T19:03:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-05-21T19:24:58.022+05:30</updated><title type='text'>An awkward situation</title><content type='html'>The other day, I arrived in a mountain town to go to a language school for the next month and am looking forward to studying a little, hiking a bit more, and staying out of the heat a lot.  Last night I met up with some friends at the guesthouse they were staying at to spend some time together and we had a nice time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their place was beautiful, and the best part was they have running water 24-7. Mine comes between 6:00 and 6:30 am and that's it. So bathing and restrooms are limited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we had a nice time together sitting in the courtyard talking. Feeling the need to take the opportunity while it was there, I asked to use their restroom. So one of my friends who was staying at this guesthouse said the rooms leading out into the courtyard had been free for a least the last week, so in I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been in there a few minutes and when I came out, I could not see where my friends had gone. But what I did see was the front door was open and there was luggage in the front. To make things worse, there were six or eight men standing in the courtyard where my comrades once were, and I had to walk past them to leave. One of them made eye contact with me, and instinctively, I did the typical nodding gesture. He at first did likewise, but after realizing that I was coming out of the room he was about to be staying in, his facial expression changed within a fraction of a second from one of a friendly greeting, to one that almost asked what I was doing in his bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did my best to play it casual and as soon as I rounded the corner, I couldn't help but laugh as well as walk a bit faster. When I found where my compadres went. I told them the story and we all got a big laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-447438678086442187?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/447438678086442187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=447438678086442187' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/447438678086442187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/447438678086442187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/05/awkward-situation.html' title='An awkward situation'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-7611156176571805337</id><published>2007-04-05T23:00:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-04-05T23:20:56.080+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Almost Roadkill</title><content type='html'>Tonight on our way back from a neighboring city, my supervisor and I got to meet another local. It was not in the manner we expected though. It was about dusk and we were going around a bend when the driver slams on the breaks and both of us, who are about half-asleep by this point, almost fall out of the seats. Through tangled seatbelts and smoke from the tires we look up at this massive beast. It had no trunk and it was too skinny to be an elephant, but we were still looking up at it from our Scorpio suv (about the size of a Ford Expedition). I couldn't tell at first if it was a big horse or whatever it was, but then I saw a small set of horns. It had a small head with a long thick neck and a large, strong-looking body. Then it jumped into the tall grass on the side of the road and into the dark. The other guys in the car swears it was a moose, but I have my doubts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon a little research and a few pictures online, I think I found a match. The local name is the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nilgai,&lt;/span&gt; and in English we would call it the Blue Bull Antelope. It just so happens to be the largest antelope species in asia. It's got my vote. But they say, (scientists as well as locals) that a full grown male while even wounded can overpower a tiger and get away and the average adult is not intimidated by a leopard. I don't know, but it didn't even look at the 2-ton pair of headlights that it almost bacame close friends with, I think the animal would have won that fight.&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Owner/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RhU2XI3PTxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/EIyLMdptj0E/s1600-h/nilgai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RhU2XI3PTxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/EIyLMdptj0E/s320/nilgai.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050002328309944082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-7611156176571805337?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7611156176571805337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=7611156176571805337' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/7611156176571805337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/7611156176571805337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/04/almost-roadkill.html' title='Almost Roadkill'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RhU2XI3PTxI/AAAAAAAAAC8/EIyLMdptj0E/s72-c/nilgai.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-7302188576231873768</id><published>2007-03-04T20:31:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-03-17T12:58:48.945+05:30</updated><title type='text'>It Snowed?</title><content type='html'>A few days ago some friends were headed back to their house in the mountains and invited me to come for a few days. I figured I could use a break and took them up on the offer. They always take the bus that useually is around 12 to 14 hours, but in bad weather it can be as much as 24 hrs. It seemed ok when we left, so we were not concerned. The bus left at 7 at night and was supposed to arrive the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerlREWYuLI/AAAAAAAAACY/QiPIp_39PKQ/s1600-h/IMG_2144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerlREWYuLI/AAAAAAAAACY/QiPIp_39PKQ/s320/IMG_2144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038091214555494578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They usually take a few stops along the way for restroom breaks, but at about midnight we stopped and everyone was asked to get off the bus and gather their luggage. Then another bus pulled up and the conductor told everyone that we would take this bus instead and the passengers on that bus got onto ours. The seating arrangements were different so there were some complications with who had to sit in the back of the bus, but we got under way. A few hours later, my friends had said that it was taking a bit longer thatn normal. Then the conductor told us that there was two feet of snow and the bus could not make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerlRkWYuMI/AAAAAAAAACg/eIWPoEgeISQ/s1600-h/IMG_2139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerlRkWYuMI/AAAAAAAAACg/eIWPoEgeISQ/s320/IMG_2139.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038091223145429186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we took a taxi/jeep thing and got stuck in traffic for a few hours so we grabbed our hand-luggage and hired donkeys to carry the rest. (I feel good because I only had a backpack). We walked up hill for an hour and twenty minutes through a little more than a foot of semislushy snow. We got our trek in durring the first day. I forgot to mention I only had sandals with me. The next few days were spent inside, but it was alot of fun do do nothing productive for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerqE0WYuOI/AAAAAAAAACw/8O_BY1MLLV0/s1600-h/IMG_2146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerqE0WYuOI/AAAAAAAAACw/8O_BY1MLLV0/s320/IMG_2146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038096501660236002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture of just the mountain is from standing in their doorway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RermCEWYuNI/AAAAAAAAACo/UGAt9EkSn9k/s1600-h/IMG_2151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RermCEWYuNI/AAAAAAAAACo/UGAt9EkSn9k/s320/IMG_2151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038092056369084626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-7302188576231873768?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7302188576231873768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=7302188576231873768' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/7302188576231873768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/7302188576231873768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/03/it-snowed.html' title='It Snowed?'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RerlREWYuLI/AAAAAAAAACY/QiPIp_39PKQ/s72-c/IMG_2144.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-279289461838180108</id><published>2007-03-04T14:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-03-04T15:25:45.294+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Ralph Escapes Again!!!</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, I was at a friends house along with several others staying with them for various reasons. But this was no ordinary evening. I was in my room minding my own business when I heard a blood-curtling shreik. By the time I got to the scene, several of the others had arrived before me, and after that point, none of our lives would be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst confusion and mass-hysteria, I got the story from an innocent bystander: while a newcomer was in the kitchen cooking dinner, a rodent had reared his ugly head. A crime too heinous to let pass. Shortly thereafter, our small band of 4 men, and 9 women plotted our reciprocation. The plan: Kill the Beast! While armed with small handpowered kitchen appliances and trashcan lids, we set out on our quest to rid the world of this vermin. Or just get him out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, he went behind the refrigerator, then we pulled out the fridge into the middle of the floor, chased him into the hall with no escape and then pinned him under a wicker trashcan. At that point, we needed a moment to stop laughing, and while we did so, the can started to walk away. The next plan was to scoot the can to door, fling him onto the porch into a newspaper and stomp on him. In short, he hit the paper and tore off like he was being chased by a dozen crazed foreigners... oh, wait. He may have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the funniest part was the differences in the reactions of the girls in the various stages of their 2 year term. The ones that had been here only a month were standing on chairs. 1 year: "you chase him from that side, I'll cover him from here!" 1.5 years: calmly saying "he's too big, he won't fit under your door." 2 years: clamly sitting on the kitchen counter stirring her ramen noodles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything in the story is true except the small appliances and trashcan lids, most of us were even barefoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/ReqXikWYuJI/AAAAAAAAACI/hPw-GpjlYYE/s1600-h/india+654.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/ReqXikWYuJI/AAAAAAAAACI/hPw-GpjlYYE/s320/india+654.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038005753296238738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-279289461838180108?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/279289461838180108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=279289461838180108' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/279289461838180108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/279289461838180108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/03/ralph-escapes-again.html' title='Ralph Escapes Again!!!'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/ReqXikWYuJI/AAAAAAAAACI/hPw-GpjlYYE/s72-c/india+654.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-495833304869580976</id><published>2007-02-26T17:53:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-02-26T21:01:31.414+05:30</updated><title type='text'>A Few More Cultural Mishaps</title><content type='html'>In the past few hours, I have made two cultural/language blunders: I am taking a course right now and after one of the sessions, I asked one of the guys, who I practice my language with "did you enjoy the class?" He gave me a puzzled look and asked me to repeat myself and I said it again. Then he shook his head, looked around and motioned for me to come over to him. As it turns out, I got the pronunciation wrong and said something else. He said the proper way to say it and the way I said it, but they sounded the same. As it turns out the word for "class" sounds just like the word for "underwear"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also on the way home from class, our autorickshaw was hit by a waterballoon and me and the other guy with me got a little wet. The driver stopped and I decide to get out and for some reason I chased the kid down. He only runs ten feet or so and stops at his gate, so I called him over and asked him why he did that. The 11-year-old looked back at me from a few steps up and with a cowering voice he mumbles "because it is Holi". Then I said, "well... don't do it again." Holi is a holiday here where they throw water at each other, and later in the day they throw powdered dye and all sorts of other craziness. But it doesn't start for another week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-495833304869580976?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/495833304869580976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=495833304869580976' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/495833304869580976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/495833304869580976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/02/few-more-cultural-mishaps.html' title='A Few More Cultural Mishaps'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-1986423801369900467</id><published>2007-02-19T00:39:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-02-19T01:00:54.341+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>Some of you have gotten onto me for not putting anything about my appt up. So here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my living room (pardon the mess, I wasn't expecting company)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdildWXmDBI/AAAAAAAAABM/Boc50uwOMes/s1600-h/IMG_2134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdildWXmDBI/AAAAAAAAABM/Boc50uwOMes/s320/IMG_2134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032954507225861138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the hallway/foyer - I have no idea how to spell that. The appt is a 2 story with an entrance upstairs. I didn't want the whole thing and had them seal off the steps. So, yes, I have a staircase that leads into a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rdil_GXmDCI/AAAAAAAAABU/sU-j_BgBmmk/s1600-h/IMG_2135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rdil_GXmDCI/AAAAAAAAABU/sU-j_BgBmmk/s320/IMG_2135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032955087046446114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bedroom is a mess, so you don't get to see that, but here is the balcony. I'm on the 6th floor, but they don't count the ground floor, so in the states it would be on the 7th floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdimfmXmDDI/AAAAAAAAABc/6L4FjQJ1kZU/s1600-h/IMG_2130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdimfmXmDDI/AAAAAAAAABc/6L4FjQJ1kZU/s320/IMG_2130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032955645392194610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is an elephant that was at the front of a wedding parade. Behind him, they were shooting off fireworks that would burst right in front of my window until about midnight the other week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdinemXmDEI/AAAAAAAAABk/HKVtaG-UbYI/s1600-h/IMG_2129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdinemXmDEI/AAAAAAAAABk/HKVtaG-UbYI/s320/IMG_2129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032956727723953218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these are a few office buildings that were decorated for some governmental holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rdin8mXmDFI/AAAAAAAAABs/4W4Sl1VeUsc/s1600-h/IMG_2122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rdin8mXmDFI/AAAAAAAAABs/4W4Sl1VeUsc/s320/IMG_2122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032957243120028754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-1986423801369900467?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/1986423801369900467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=1986423801369900467' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/1986423801369900467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/1986423801369900467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/02/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/RdildWXmDBI/AAAAAAAAABM/Boc50uwOMes/s72-c/IMG_2134.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-7968593108480208081</id><published>2007-02-14T17:55:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-02-14T18:08:51.559+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I Guess I Just Have Big Feet</title><content type='html'>This week I decided that I needed a new pair of flip-flops to wear around the house. And on Wednesdays (today) there is a big flea-market type thing within walking distance from my house, so off I went to find a new pair of chappals (sandals). After going to a few different stands to ask if they had my size, I received a few different answers ranging from a mixture of "no"s to strange looks and confused faces. Most of the places I went to stopped at men's size 8, and being that I wear a size 12, this would not do. More than one vendor gave me a puzzled look, paused, and leaned over his table to get a look at my feet. I guess to see if I was telling the truth. I did, however find a pair of baby blue size 9's that the guys insisted I try on. My heel hung over the back about an inch or so and that was the biggest pair I found. With no luck, I returned home determined to one day find a pair of chappals that fit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-7968593108480208081?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/7968593108480208081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=7968593108480208081' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/7968593108480208081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/7968593108480208081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-guess-i-just-have-big-feet.html' title='I Guess I Just Have Big Feet'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-4832251450846966461</id><published>2007-02-10T16:44:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-02-10T17:12:58.564+05:30</updated><title type='text'>trip out of town</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2w1mXmC-I/AAAAAAAAAAk/tZbBRqidT78/s1600-h/IMG_2073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2w1mXmC-I/AAAAAAAAAAk/tZbBRqidT78/s320/IMG_2073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029870793721777122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's been a little busy the last few weeks. After making my visa run, I came back and hit the ground running. A few days after coming back, I had to go visit some friends in another city. I had only met them once before, so I was anxious to see them again. We spent a few days together with seeing their homes and them introducing me to their families and after that, they asked if I wanted to see the fort in town. I had only seen the top of it over the trees a few days before so I was anxious to see it. So they told me they would pick me up at 12. A few hours after they dropped me off at my hotel, they called back and said they would come at 9. I was a little anxious to sleep in that day, but if that means I get to see more of the fort, then great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2wAGXmC8I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vvuEHHdEDHA/s1600-h/IMG_2057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2wAGXmC8I/AAAAAAAAAAU/vvuEHHdEDHA/s320/IMG_2057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029869874598775746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they picked me up, they said we were going to a bigger fort about an hour away. And away we went in our full-day-rental auto rickshaw. When we stopped to get out, I immediately began taking pictures of all the old run down temples strewn about, but they insisted we keep moving. We walked around a hill and there was a few bigger temples lining the nice clean river and a palace that had been used a few hundred years ago. We ran around those for a bit and took pictures and all the fun stuff. Then one of them said we should get to the fort pretty soon, before it gets too crowded. On the way to the fort, it was starting to look a little more touristy and then we started seeing westerners here and there. Then we got to the fort, which was much bigger than I had expected. It was definitely the tallest structure around. On every side you could see for miles. Then after a bit, you could start to hear a slight rumble avery once in a while, and one of the guys said we should get going. And on our way out, we discovered the rumbling was tour buses shoveling people into the fort. I can say that they had perfect timing in getting in and out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2wnGXmC9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/77RtY3tBwVc/s1600-h/IMG_2042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2wnGXmC9I/AAAAAAAAAAc/77RtY3tBwVc/s320/IMG_2042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029870544613673938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really got me though was every time we passed a foreigner, my friends would ask if they were from my country. Some sounded like they were speaking German, so I said not them. Then there was a group af maybe 50 -60 from east asia with their video cameras and everything and they asked if they were from my country. I don't know if it sounds all that funny, I guess you just had to be there. But all in all, we had a good time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-4832251450846966461?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/4832251450846966461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=4832251450846966461' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/4832251450846966461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/4832251450846966461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/02/trip-out-of-town.html' title='trip out of town'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4nkosGp2FnA/Rc2w1mXmC-I/AAAAAAAAAAk/tZbBRqidT78/s72-c/IMG_2073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-8081467267219281001</id><published>2007-01-06T12:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-01-07T12:21:55.491+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>This week I had to leave the coutry because my visa only permits me to be in the country for a certain amount of time. The plans were to leave on new years eve and arrive in the morning, but that was just the plan. Everything went smoothly going from our first flight to the capitol with the international airport and we even got on the plane with plenty of time to spare. But after an hour or two sitting at the gate the captain said we would be delayed a bit. So we started a movie on my computer, which died within 30 min. After a few more minutes, the captian said that the fog was too heavy to take off and the flight would be cancelled. Usually when something like this happens, they would make an announcement saying to go to a certain desk or even say when the flight is scheduled to resume, but all the captain said was something to the effect of "the crew needs to rest for the flight tomorrow, see you then." No instructions, no appologies, only the assurance that the pilot would be awake for the flight the following day, the time of which was still unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we got off the plane, I interrupted a group of airport employees' conversation to ask where we were to go and one casually pointed to one direction then went back to talking with his coworkers. We asked a few other workers on the way to wherever it was that he pointed to with no avail. Finally we found a line with people who looked familiar and hopped in. While in line, several people pushed their way into the line wherever they pleased (this is common here). after some time we heard a half-hearted cheer from within the group/line and we assumed that it was the new year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once in the front of the line, an employee stamped our tickets. We had to ask someone else where to go and they said a bus would take us to a hotel. Once on the bus a woman from first class asked if they fed us while on the plane, we laughed... and sighed. After we got to the hotel, we discovered that we ended up on the same bus as the first class flyers and the hotel was the nicest one i have ever stayed in in my life. It even beat the Waldorf Astoria in New York! When we arrived, there was a really nice meal for us and in the morning we had the breakfast buffet which if you were to pay for would be about $20 per person. From then on, everything was on time and we arrived at our hotel we were intending to be at about 12 hours late, but the free hotel room made up for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-8081467267219281001?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/8081467267219281001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=8081467267219281001' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/8081467267219281001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/8081467267219281001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-116344592554306871</id><published>2006-11-14T00:41:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-11-15T23:49:03.136+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Is that your dog?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_0270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_0270.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;No, this is not in the country I'm living in now. This is back home in Florida no less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few guys were over at my apartment the other day and noticed that I had a picture of an alligator tail as my background on my computer (not this picture)  they asked if I had taken the picture myself and wanted to see more. Not too long before I left the country, we had a 7ft gator removed from my neighbor's yard and being that is was a boring evening, we decided to watch the lady catch it and get it on film. (Yes a woman captured this prehistoric beast!) Anyway I have several shots of it snapping and going into the "deathroll" and such, and while the guys were looking through them, I figured I would have some fun. So I casually said that it was my dog in the local language. They both immediately looked right at me with the same puzzled look. That was actually what I was intending. But a few days later I figured that I hadn't told them it was my dog.  Apparantly I got the words confused and said that was my umbrella. Now I know the difference between the word for dog and for umbrella. I am learning that the way to learn something is to make as many mistakes on it as possible. Now I wonder what other crazy things I have said unbeknownst to me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-116344592554306871?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/116344592554306871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=116344592554306871' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116344592554306871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116344592554306871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/11/is-that-your-dog.html' title='Is that your dog?'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-116322780152067094</id><published>2006-11-11T11:57:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-11-11T12:20:01.530+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_1109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_1109.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in what is called the "dollar store" the other day. Nothing in there is a dollar, everything is 99 rupees and that's about $2.25-ish. They really should call it the "two-and-a-quarter store" But moving on to the important part. Given that a certain softdrink is bottled in Texas, only on rare occasions does it reach the ends of the earth. This just so happened to be one of those occasions. On the shelf full of sodas, I saw a familiar color of a can and I just had to look closer. My eyes had not deceived me, but before me stood, not one but TWO cans of Dr Pepper! I expected them to be R99 each and I guess I could sacrifice a little, but when I got to the counter, they said they were 3 for R99!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really not that obsessed over the stuff, I had just heard that people go years without seeing any form of it. So I was just blessed to have found them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-116322780152067094?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/116322780152067094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=116322780152067094' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116322780152067094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116322780152067094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-was-in-what-is-called-dollar-store.html' title=''/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-116109077506812107</id><published>2006-10-17T18:28:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-17T18:42:55.080+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Diwali</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_1038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_1038.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week is the holiday called Diwali (the "W" is not a "w" or a "v", it is a hybrid of both. Try to pronounce it, it'll be fun). The only thing I know about it is it is when a god is supposed to come to their homes, and they light candles for the god to find the way. Over the years, things have gotten bigger. The started building camp-fires in front of their houses, then bonfires in the streets, and after a while they have retorted to fireworks. Now it is THE firework holiday of the year. Even a week before, I cannot sleep at night because of the explosions outside my window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, not to be left out, we decided to join in. We set off some a few days prior, (so we are not celebrating that holiday, we are just having fun) and I must say that the types of fireworks you can find here, you would need a licence to acquire in the states. Observe in the picture, does this look like $30 worth of fireworks? Well... it is. And yes we still have all of our limbs and eyebrows, despite the larger tube throwing shrapnel 30 feet away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-116109077506812107?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/116109077506812107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=116109077506812107' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116109077506812107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116109077506812107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/10/diwali.html' title='Diwali'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-116080814560261235</id><published>2006-10-14T11:56:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-14T12:15:40.040+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is going to be a fun one...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am learning firsthand about the lack of privacy this country has, whether I like it or not. I am in an internet cafe right now, since I am waiting to get a connection in my apartment, and this is the third attempt at posting this thought. I came a few days ago to check my email and after a few minutes, I had two guys with their chins almost resting on either shoulder reading out loud what I had received from my sister and was asking questions about everything. The first time was funny, but I came back the next day to post this and they were back for a few minutes at a time. I even added a few written pauses to say they were back, and at one point I thought about posting what I had and saying I would have to finish it later, but one of them pulled up a chair and proceded to do the same thing he was doing, but this time he did not come and go sporadically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, I told him that in my culture to read someone else's mail is extremely rude and his only response was "There are many people who come to this place and I think many of them will read your emails." I continued to argue with him for a little bit, but I don't think he understood. After I went home, I bypassed the authority of my landlord, bulding supervisor, and president of the something-or-other association and applied for a connection. Hopefully it will come in soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and another thing, I was asked at least three times this week why I had spots on my arms, so I had to explain what freckles were, partially in the local language :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-116080814560261235?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/116080814560261235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=116080814560261235' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116080814560261235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/116080814560261235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/10/this-is-going-to-be-fun-one.html' title=''/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115977728427751765</id><published>2006-10-02T13:43:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-17T18:27:17.386+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Made it to my city</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_0916.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_0916.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;[This is a view from my apartment balcony at night. Note the split in the headlight-trail, they are dodging a cow in the road.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so it's been a while since my last post, but that's not my fault... ok so it is my fault. I haven't gotten internet in my apartment yet so I am relying on a cafe whose ceiling is not tall enough for me to stand up in and none of the computers have a usb drive so I can't upload any pictures yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the important stuff. I made it into my city a few weeks ago, I have an apartment with a nice balcony and I just got a language tutor the other day. The time is spent at two extremes, some days I have nothing to do and others, I can't get it all done. I've been on one trip to a neighboring city to see what a volunteer group was doing and to get some contacts to do some work in the villages surrounding the city. I'm excited about what is going on here and I should have more pictures soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115977728427751765?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115977728427751765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115977728427751765' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115977728427751765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115977728427751765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/10/made-it-to-my-city.html' title='Made it to my city'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115752723042184216</id><published>2006-09-06T11:59:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-10-17T18:21:09.616+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Full Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/Full%20Weekend%20small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/Full%20Weekend%20small.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(For the full effect, please read out loud as fast as possible and follow the instructional hints)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend I went on a 18k hike in the Himalayan foothills, passed through a village that spoke a language I had never heard of before, was attacked by hoards of bloodsucking leeches, got a haircut in a metal box hanging over a cliff by a disgruntled man with a straight-razor while wearing an apron covered in small splotches of blood, trekked to a Tibetan Budhist temple, saw a cardboard cutout of the Dhali Lhama, was asked by some upperclass kids locals if I knew where they could find some ganja, passed another man so stoned he could hardly stand, accosted by a group of angry Sikhs, (take a deep breath) got ahold of some bad milk, waited in line for two hours to pay my phone bill and didn't even get it taken care of, took a jeep with 14 people and 9 1-gallon bottles of buffalo milk to a temple of a decaptated goddess, hitched a ride with some PhD students on vacation in a borrowed car the size of a skateboard, saw a gang war between two groups of monkey, fell off a parked scooter and was almost run-over by my language teacher, Habib.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I had a good time, but I was a little busy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115752723042184216?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115752723042184216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115752723042184216' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115752723042184216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115752723042184216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/09/full-weekend.html' title='Full Weekend'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115701282011345170</id><published>2006-08-31T13:54:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-31T13:57:00.120+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Language Breakthrough</title><content type='html'>For the last few weeks, I have been struggling through the language learning process, but today in praying for my lunch, I used "danyavad" instead of thank you. This may not really mean much but I found it to be rather humorous :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115701282011345170?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115701282011345170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115701282011345170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115701282011345170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115701282011345170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/08/language-breakthrough.html' title='Language Breakthrough'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115694113716055622</id><published>2006-08-30T17:51:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-30T18:02:17.173+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Unwanted Guests</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_0785.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_0785.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost forgot, I did have a few unwanted visitors in my room. the picture helps explain it, but there were three of them within two days of each other. So I moved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115694113716055622?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115694113716055622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115694113716055622' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115694113716055622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115694113716055622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/08/unwanted-guests.html' title='Unwanted Guests'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115693927222923490</id><published>2006-08-30T17:05:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-30T17:31:12.236+05:30</updated><title type='text'>The Rotary Club!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_0022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_0022.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many schools around the world have a plethora of extracurricular activities to choose from. I did find one that sounded very interesting. From what I gathered from the translation, it is called something similar to the "Rotary Club" I'm not sure exactly what it entails, but I'll keep you posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, my language tutor has a habbit of laughing at me. I'm not sure if it is my pronunciation or the flies landing on my face or what, but I did tell her a funny explanation of what one of the phrases in Hindi means in English: it's pronounced "yeh-tee" and it is the female past-tense. So I told her that in English, that describes a very large, furry animal that walks like a man, we call it either Bigfoot or in these parts, the Abominable Snowman. So if she sees another large furry man she said she would call him a yeti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115693927222923490?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115693927222923490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115693927222923490' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115693927222923490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115693927222923490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/08/rotary-club.html' title='The Rotary Club!'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115650075747284831</id><published>2006-08-25T15:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-25T15:42:37.483+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Train Ticket...Almost</title><content type='html'>Much to my dismay, I discovered I am not in the neighboring state of Illinois or even anywhere near Indianapolis, but in fact I am on the other side of the world... I was wondering why no one spoke english.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I arrived here, I did get the opportunity to try to buy a train ticket. I simply walked down to the ticket office and and after waiting in line, I asked for a ticket to another town. The man behind the desk asked for my form, of which I had none. So another man behind the desk handed me a small pink paper to fill out. I got back in line and waited for a while and shorly there after a very prideful man of about fifty politely squeezes past me in line and hands the man at the desk his form. Within moments the power goes out and the computer to process the tickets as well. We continued to wait for the following two hours before the office closed. During that time another few men came in and tried to jump to the front of the line, but the man who recently decided to be in the front of the line, in another language, seemed to say "you will have to wait. First there is me then him," pointing at me, "then the rest of these people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my first experience getting a ticket here. Normally I believe I would have been sorely vexed, however, I was overcome with a spiteful humor. I did not get my ticket... but neither did the man in front of me :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115650075747284831?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115650075747284831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115650075747284831' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115650075747284831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115650075747284831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/08/train-ticketalmost.html' title='Train Ticket...Almost'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115572253399106297</id><published>2006-08-16T15:18:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-16T15:32:13.996+05:30</updated><title type='text'>Language School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/1600/IMG_0668.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7343/3305/320/IMG_0668.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of now, I'm in a language school in a small town nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas. I sat with a family one evening who were amused that my hometown is about 80 ft above sea level and now i'm at close to 8000ft. I have found a few believers and even a church or two that I am going to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And not to forget, I did get a monkey in my room, however I was not there to see it :( The (sho-kee-dor)- gate keeper, chased it out, but not before he left a little present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115572253399106297?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115572253399106297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115572253399106297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115572253399106297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115572253399106297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/08/language-school.html' title='Language School'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115501328411755595</id><published>2006-08-08T10:24:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-08-08T10:32:18.346+05:30</updated><title type='text'>I Made It!</title><content type='html'>Aha! I made it to the country of my destination. I'll be in language school for the next month and I should be in the city where I will reside in for the next few years sometime in September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are going wonderfully here, I have picked up a few phrases in the local language and am getting pretty good at bargaining for a rickshaw :) And best of all, I already have a list of names that I should share with and I haven't gotten to the city where they live yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would post some pictures, but I don't have any yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115501328411755595?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115501328411755595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115501328411755595' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115501328411755595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115501328411755595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-made-it.html' title='I Made It!'/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30762772.post-115223556005828694</id><published>2006-07-07T06:50:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2006-07-07T06:56:31.310+05:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In just under a month, I'll be on a plane to the southern part of the continent of Asia! Right now I am lerning about the culture and getting all the arrangements taken care of before I go. I'll get keep any news posted when it comes up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30762772-115223556005828694?l=johninsa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/feeds/115223556005828694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30762772&amp;postID=115223556005828694' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115223556005828694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30762772/posts/default/115223556005828694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://johninsa.blogspot.com/2006/07/in-just-under-month-ill-be-on-plane-to.html' title=''/><author><name>j</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13998616157860961538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
