Things

In Devli, I am conducting a survey of women from communities involuntarily resettled from a government dam project to see what kind of income generation activities should be initiated in that area. My partner for the study bought me some grapes after dumping water on them. Grapes haunt the nightmares of saavy travelers such as myself, and I was 98.2% sure that I was guaranteed to get violently ill. Do not worry, says my sage guide, the water was filtered- it came from the Bislapur Dam. Later that night when we got to our site, I pulled out my water bottle to brush my teeth. No no, says my wise friend, you don’t need to use bottled water to brush here. Our sinks use Bislapur water as well. It was all kind of funny. I came to help the rural villagers forced to move because of the wicked mcevil government dam project. But everywhere I look the Bislapur dam is making my life easier, tastier, and healthier. Perhaps its not so bad.

In the bathroom later that night…
I hate India. I hate Jaipur. I hate Cecoedecon. I hate the Bislapur Water Supply Project. I hate Devli. I hate life. I HATE grapes.