Everything in Pondichery is so... French. I'm not a France hater, but the parts of the city that we've seen so far are a bit too quiet and clean and organized for my tastes. Maybe I'm just bitter because I can't access my gmail account?
Google, I admire your intestinal fortitude for designing a mail service that won't work on 60% (my observed figure) of the machines that we encounter in Indian/Bangladeshi cyber cafes. You give the people what they want when they want and they want it all the time.
A sick little boy puked on the bus from M-puram. He swayed in his mother's arms and stared at the ceiling of the bus. The ticket collecting asshole gave hassled her about the puke on the floor so she quickly filled a bag with roadside dirt and neutralized the spill. Come to think of it, I don't hate google so much anymore.
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Jamie and Michele have rallied against all popular wisdom and good advice (again). Their visit to the indian continent should provide you with hours (if not minutes) of reading pleasures. Please sit back and relax as they selectively share their entanglements and stories of woe.
