Koli and I sped down the road on his motorcycle in a torrential downpour. He had left our motorcycle helmets at the project site, so I held my hand over his eyes like a visor to block out as much of the monsoon rains as I could so that he could see well enough to keep us on the road. The van, holding three of my interns, two large blocks of ice, all of the cooking utensils from my kitchen, two gas stoves, and several pounds of food followed us. We got to the edge of town and saw that the road was completely blocked for repairs. While the motorcycle might have been able to squeak around the barricade, the van would never make it; fortunately Koli knew an alternate route out of the city. We were already an hour late: the van was delayed, our landlord had padlocked us in the building (it took us 20 minutes to find him and have him come open the door), and we had to stop at the bazaar to get ice. Read the rest of this entry »
“Can we stay TONIGHT?” Chi Chi kept nagging me. For the past week she and the interns have been begging me to allow them to spend a night at the Pavilion. I was inclined to capitulate since they have worked really hard for the past several weeks to build it. It still amazes me how much they were able to accomplish in just three weeks!
Koli had some doubts. He insisted that we get permission from the local police before spending the night. We went down to the police station together. The Chief of Police was very friendly, but tried to convince me not to spend the night. My interns worked hard, however, and I wanted to reward them, so I stuck to my guns and told the police officer that we really want to stay and that the interns were going back to America in a few days and would not have another chance. He agreed on the condition that he be allowed to send us four police escorts.