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Slightly less sooky
After some sleep I feel somewhat better. I am at the airport now, waiting for my flight to Karachi. I've left my large backpack at the left luggage centre, so I'm relatively mobile now. I'm nervous, but there are a lot of people who'll be able to look after me in Karachi. I have one day on my own, as most people are arriving tomorrow. I won't be doing anything terribly exciting (or dangerous) - probably just catching up on some sleep.
In other news:
* posting my books back to Australia was an exercise in extreme patience and faith. It took over an hour, and I am somewhat nervous about their arrival.
* when I was staying in Mysore, I used one of my calico shopping bags to carry a few things in. (I've done fairly well at avoiding plastic here, after the first week or two.) Shayla's husband, whose name I finally worked out is Dwarkanath, saw it, and asked about it. I explained about the Perth City Library, and who nifty it is. He insisted on copying down the library's address, which was written on the side of the bag. I remain perplexed.
* Parental phonecalls make me smile. I like that this trip has made me realise how much I still rely on the love and support I get from my parents.
* Bicycle news: 1) Che guevara won back a few of his many lost bonus points, as I found out he was a keen bicyclist when younger. 2) One of India's communist parties has a bicycle on its flag. Hooray!
Also, please remember that my phone won't work in Pakistan. I'll try to at least put a line on two on lj when I can, but I have no idea how much time/web access I'll have. Don't freak out (not mentioning any names, mother dear) if you don't hear from me for a while. Also: if anything does happen, remember that it is highly unlikely to have happened to me. If I don't tell the world that I'm ok in the immediate aftermath of a bomb blast or such, it will be likely that a) I haven't heard about it because I've been quite out of touch with the media at times, or b) the most sensible policy will be for me to go hang around in a safe space, not look for a phone or cybercafe.
If you find yourself fretting too much, loved ones, I recommend doing some kind of pleasant activity, which may or may not include looking at the beautiful comics made by a tiny monster, or further exploring the delights of interactive found art. On a fairly regular basis my friends are so wonderful they make me worry I will explode.
In other news:
* posting my books back to Australia was an exercise in extreme patience and faith. It took over an hour, and I am somewhat nervous about their arrival.
* when I was staying in Mysore, I used one of my calico shopping bags to carry a few things in. (I've done fairly well at avoiding plastic here, after the first week or two.) Shayla's husband, whose name I finally worked out is Dwarkanath, saw it, and asked about it. I explained about the Perth City Library, and who nifty it is. He insisted on copying down the library's address, which was written on the side of the bag. I remain perplexed.
* Parental phonecalls make me smile. I like that this trip has made me realise how much I still rely on the love and support I get from my parents.
* Bicycle news: 1) Che guevara won back a few of his many lost bonus points, as I found out he was a keen bicyclist when younger. 2) One of India's communist parties has a bicycle on its flag. Hooray!
Also, please remember that my phone won't work in Pakistan. I'll try to at least put a line on two on lj when I can, but I have no idea how much time/web access I'll have. Don't freak out (not mentioning any names, mother dear) if you don't hear from me for a while. Also: if anything does happen, remember that it is highly unlikely to have happened to me. If I don't tell the world that I'm ok in the immediate aftermath of a bomb blast or such, it will be likely that a) I haven't heard about it because I've been quite out of touch with the media at times, or b) the most sensible policy will be for me to go hang around in a safe space, not look for a phone or cybercafe.
If you find yourself fretting too much, loved ones, I recommend doing some kind of pleasant activity, which may or may not include looking at the beautiful comics made by a tiny monster, or further exploring the delights of interactive found art. On a fairly regular basis my friends are so wonderful they make me worry I will explode.