Today was one of those days where every other word is “khwaja,” which I hear is white person or foreigner. It was like listening to smurfs talk as little kids came running up to our vehicle as we’d pass (such as those above).
After breakfast we drove all day with a quick break for lunch until dusk, when we scrounged for a place to camp out for the night. Unfortunately the Vets Without Borders compound’s authority figure was absent so that was out. No vets.
But we found a cozy compound that resembled a primitive Dharma initiative settlement. I slept in a concrete hut with an inch-wide crack running the length of the floor and all the way up one wall, and three windows, somehow making me feel like a lighthouse keeper. I had “I Wanna Marry a Lighthouse Keeper” from A Clockwork Orange stuck in my head as I went to sleep.
I have no idea where the hell we are, other than the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately no dinner to be found tonight.
For the record, I have no interest in marrying a lighthouse keeper.