Did I mention the smell? I think it comes from the so-called air conditioner. I’ve got that sucker cranked into Siberia mode and it still won’t really cool the room. I think it may be all of the dust, hair, mold, mildew and only God knows what else that is stuck in the vent and ducts. I took a picture of it but it’s dark and scary inside the grill and as such the camera didn’t capture any of the detail.
There is mold and mildew on the ceiling in the shower, too.
And my inspection of the bed for critters and other nasties revealed several stains that made me suspicious but since it was obvious these had been washed and the stains looked years (decades?) old, my weariness made me feel safe enough.
The furniture is dated, stained, dented, scratched and otherwise quite functional. The pictures on the wall are crooked – an offense to someone like myself but I am loathe to touch them lest I find something else to worry about. My body has that fear that bugs are constantly landing on it and doing nefarious things to my epidermis and defiling the purity of my bloodstream, but every time I try and catch one in the act, there is nothing there. I’m sure that’s just my mind playing tricks on me. Stupid mind.
Let’s be fair, though. It is shelter and it does seem to be keeping the bugs out. And while the room isn’t as cold as I’d like, it isn’t as hot as it is outside, and that’s good too.
One more thing I’ll complain about: the buzzer.
I’m tired, jetlagged, and sleeping peacefully until there is a buzz. A Big Buzz. It’s quick, but it’s loud, and I have no idea what it means. I sit bolt upright in bed and am thinking that I could be in trouble. Hell, I’m in India. I AM in trouble.
BUZZ.
Ok, it came from something on the wall. Maybe a doorbuzzer? I get up and look out the peephole but see no one. I am not about to open the door and show folks my tighty-whities (not so white after that buzz!) so I figure I’ll just get up and get the day started. Later on I hear it again and RUN to the peephole. Yep – it is a doorbell. Of sorts. Only it is so loud that each time it happened my heart goes into palpitations and I have to climb down from the ceiling where I am clinging like a scared kitten.
And so begins day 1…
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| You'll just have to trust me on this. |
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| That's not dust up there. |
The furniture is dated, stained, dented, scratched and otherwise quite functional. The pictures on the wall are crooked – an offense to someone like myself but I am loathe to touch them lest I find something else to worry about. My body has that fear that bugs are constantly landing on it and doing nefarious things to my epidermis and defiling the purity of my bloodstream, but every time I try and catch one in the act, there is nothing there. I’m sure that’s just my mind playing tricks on me. Stupid mind.
Let’s be fair, though. It is shelter and it does seem to be keeping the bugs out. And while the room isn’t as cold as I’d like, it isn’t as hot as it is outside, and that’s good too.
One more thing I’ll complain about: the buzzer.
I’m tired, jetlagged, and sleeping peacefully until there is a buzz. A Big Buzz. It’s quick, but it’s loud, and I have no idea what it means. I sit bolt upright in bed and am thinking that I could be in trouble. Hell, I’m in India. I AM in trouble.
BUZZ.
Ok, it came from something on the wall. Maybe a doorbuzzer? I get up and look out the peephole but see no one. I am not about to open the door and show folks my tighty-whities (not so white after that buzz!) so I figure I’ll just get up and get the day started. Later on I hear it again and RUN to the peephole. Yep – it is a doorbell. Of sorts. Only it is so loud that each time it happened my heart goes into palpitations and I have to climb down from the ceiling where I am clinging like a scared kitten.
And so begins day 1…
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