Been Around the World...

Not exactly, but after Cairo it kinda feels like it. I consider myself pretty well-traveled, but never have I felt like I was experiencing what I was when in Cairo earlier this week. As you know, there’s sooooo much history in this part of the world, and in/around Cairo specifically – the Pyramids at Giza, the Nile, the mummies, King Tut, etc. It was my first trip to what I consider the Middle East, and for most of the trip, I was simply in awe of my surroundings.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A LONG ENTRY. EITHER SPLIT IT UP INTO PIECES, OR CALL IN SICK.

Rather than my typical, day-by-day, almost minute-by-minute journals, this entry will consist of notes and observations from my 3 ½ day trip to Cairo. Probably more educational than entertaining, but hope you enjoy. If you don’t, no one made you read this, so don’t bitch.

- Those of you who have traveled with me know that I’m kinduva half-ass traveler. Sleep in, have breakfast (while watching Family Guy on my portable DVD player), see one major sight, have some lunch, wander the streets a bit, have a couple drinks at a local bar, and take the night from there. Not so in Cairo. There’s SO much to do/see there, that I was on a marathon trip, trying to see if I could see all the major sights in my short trip. I’m proud to say I hit most of them – The Egyptian Museum, The Pyramids at Giza, Islamic Cairo, Coptic (i.e. Christian) Cairo, The Citadel, Abdeen Palace, Cairo Tower. Absolutely exhausting. My strong suggestion is to spend more time here than I did. And probably add a few more days for some other cities in Egypt, e.g. Alexandria.

- The Egyptian people, generally speaking, were very friendly. On several occasions, men who saw me looking kinda lost, staring at my Lonely Planet, approached me, made friendly conversation, and offered assistance – without trying to lure me into their stores or travel agencies.

- One guy who DID sweet-talk me into his store showed me a photo of his uncle shaking hands with the GOAT – Muhammad Ali. Of course, the man shaking Ali’s hand could very well have been Anwar Sadat and I really wouldn’t have known the difference.

- Having become accustomed to seeing full-on, hijab-clad women usually only walking around with other women, kinda like in a convent, it was very strange seeing so many of them walking with men, often arm-in-arm, and sometimes even holding hands. Blasphemy! On this note, I don’t understand how ANY Egyptian women can be fat. Walking around all day in the blazing heat, wearing all-black clothing from head to toes? How much bread and shwarma can one eat?!

- It was also weird, being in a Muslim country (albeit a more secular one than many others), seeing men walking arm-in-arm with each other, sometimes holding hands. I couldn’t tell if they were just walking like that or if they were actually gay, but it definitely felt like I was walking around in Chelsea or San Fran.

- Sticking with the Muslim theme – there are minarets sticking out EVERYWHERE. I’ve been to one Muslim country before, Turkey, and from my recollection there weren’t nearly as many mosques there as in Cairo. Even on the cab ride into town from the airport, the view from my seat offered minarets every which way. Left, a minaret. Straight ahead, another minaret. To my right, a shorter minaret (I bet the imam of that mosque drives a Range Rover or something).

- For such an old city, Cairo is EXTREMELY pedestrian-unfriendly and surprisingly car-friendly. In many places, there are no sidewalks at all, leaving me – and many others - to walk at the edge of the street in the middle of a crowded downtown traffic circle.

- Traffic generally, but in central/downtown Cairo, is RIDICULOUS. American University in Cairo, which is apparently the crème-de-la-crème of Egyptian universities, is right in the thick of it all. The only thing I can think of that might come close to comparing, is if there was a university directly adjacent to Times Square.

- Egyptians, especially the men, look surprisingly like South Asians. I got the “you look Egyptian” comment many times – and not always from people trying to sell me stuff. I could have saved a small fortune on cabs, souvenirs, etc. if I spoke a little Arabic with even a half-ass accent.

- My first sightseeing stop was the top of the Cairo Tower. Pretty unimpressive. Cairo, at night, doesn’t look all that spectacular. Unfortunately, it was the first chance I had to go (and at about $10 entry I wasn’t gonna go twice), but I imagine the views during the day – on a clear day you can probably see the Pyramids – are much more impressive.

- As many of you know, I have ZERO sense of direction. Thank God for the Nile, which on multiple occasions helped me navigate my way back to my not-so-central hotel. That’s exactly what we need in L.A. – a huge river. Heck, build one flowing north-south, and one flowing east-west, with different color water or something to distinguish the two.

- Seeing the mummies of men who have been dead for around 4,000 years – and actually being able to notice their facial features – is incredibly cool. However, the Egyptian Museum (and the Lonely Planet for that matter) could better serve the viewing public by explaining the history and process of mummification.

- Is it a bad sign that the first thing that popped into my head when I saw King Tut’s famous Death Mask was the Luxor at Las Vegas?

- Speaking of King Tut, maybe Egypt could still be a powerful, wealthy nation, if they hadn’t used so much damn gold building solid-gold coffins, death masks, jewelry for the mummies, etc.

- The Egyptian Museum is simply overwhelming. I would strongly encourage you to splurge the extra c. $7 and go on two separate days. Even doing this, navigating through all the rooms proved a monumental (and, admittedly, boring at times) task. The Museum is PACKED with sculptures, statues, coffins, hieroglyphics, carvings, jewelry, and all sorts of other artifacts from Pharoanic Egypt. BTW, to the curator – PLEASE invest in improved air conditioning as well as labeling of the items on display. Not to mention the piss-poor lighting in several rooms.

- Did you ever wonder who, in God-knows-when B.C., had the time to make all the intricately-carved sculptures in these museums? Between the hunting/gathering, holy wars, and involuntary servitude, I’m stumped as to who found the time to put together a replica of a large cattle-counting scene, complete with King, King’s son, counters, scribes, and cattle. Why wasn’t this guy out in the fields counting the damn cattle instead of sculpting?

- Did you know they used to mummify animals, even fish and crocodiles? I didn’t. Weird.

- Realizing that pretty much all the religious art I have ever seen in museums has been Christian art, I ventured towards the Museum of Islamic Art. Alas, it was closed for renovation. Damn. Opus Dei has infiltrated Cairo! (Relax Christian friends, just some light Dan Brown humor. Angels & Demons, BTW, if the first third of it is any indication, is better than The Da Vinci Code).

- Maybe I built up the Pyramids too much in my own head. Don’t get me wrong – they’re spectacular structures, especially considering they’re over 4,500 years old. But I guess I had this naïve visions in my head of actual pyramids with smooth surfaces, kinda like true geometric pyramids. Of course, this is not the case, as there is the obvious bumpiness that one would expect from pyramids built from thousands of limestone rocks.

- The interiors of the Pyramids are tourist traps. After paying around $7 to enter the whole region, which encompasses the three large pyramids, six smaller ones, and the Sphinx, I had to pay another $18 to enter the Great Pyramid (the first and largest). I basically paid $18 just to walk up some narrow, steep, claustrophobic steps. If you’re really short on cash, it’s not necessary to go inside. Of course, it was still worth it, as I think it’s pretty cool to be able to say I was in the Great Pyramid. I TRIED to enter the Second Pyramid as well – it’s INSANE that not only do they not allow cameras inside, but they didn’t even have a place to check your cameras. When I asked where I should leave my camera, one of the security guys said “with your guide or in the car.” WTF?! What about those of us who are competent enough to explore the Pyramids without a guide?! Very uncool.

- Egypt has had FIVE different national flags. Not in its entire history. Five different flags since independence in 1952. Maybe it’s just me, but I found this strange/interesting. Strangely interesting. Or interestingly strange?

- There’s nothing wrong with taking a felucca ride on the Nile by yourself, is there? IS THERE?!

- BTW, condolensces to those of you dealing with the heat waves that seem to be taking over across the U.S. Who would have thought I'd be more comfortable in the Egyptian desert in July than I would have been in L.A.?

All in all, it was a great trip. My only regret, I suppose, is that I didn’t get a chance to explore Cairo’s nightlife, which is supposedly pretty good. I was so exhausted from all the sightseeing that it was tough to motivate myself (esp. considering I was traveling solo) to go out, drink, and try to pick up girls who don’t speak English.

Sidebar – Kenya Airways SUCKS. Pretty much all of my flights have been delayed, several by two hours or more. In Zanzibar, I was without my checked luggage for well over 24 hours, forcing me to wear the same clothes for, well, for much longer than I or anyone around me would have preferred. And when they collect stuff related to the “entertainment system” before descent, they make you give up your blankets too. WTF?! Outside of that Linus kid from the Peanuts comics, when did blankets serve any kind of ENTERTAINMENT purpose?

Tomorrow, Peter and I are gonna go see some wildlife. Then, on Monday, the highlight of the trip begins – the attempt to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. I’m extremely excited and, admittedly, a little nervous as well. I REALLY wish I hadn’t told everyone that we were going to do the climb – that way if I failed, I could have kept my mouth shut and you would have been none the wiser. Alas, my efforts, and thus my success or failure, will be very much in the public domain by the end of next week. Pray for me.

Can't We All Just Get Along???

Quick break from Cairo to post a quick entry.

Two things inspired this entry:

1) I visited Coptic (i.e. Christian) Cairo earlier today. There's a bunch of churches, including the Hanging Church, the only one I entered. Everything inside is written in Arabic. If Christians can read Arabic in their houses of worship, can't Christians, Muslims, Jews, etc. JUST GET ALONG???!!!

2) I'm sure you're all aware of the violence going on in the Middle East right now (isn't there ALWAYS some sort of violence going on in the Middle East?). Anyways, as you know, one of the main motivators for my trip to Africa was that Shashank is out here, and had blocked off a good chunk of vacay time to travel with me. Unfortunately, he's been in Cyprus/Jordan/Syria for the last week or so, and today the REALLY bad news hit. On Friday, he has to leave Syria for Beirut. He'll be there indefinitely (sorry to blow up your spot Shashank). So, Kili is off the map for him (he's even been working out for it!). It'll be just me and Peter. Obviously, I'm worried about Shashank, as Beirut is no place for anybody, let alone a frail little Indian boy like Shashank. Less obviously, I'm worried about myself. Peter and I alone for over a week? Peter thousands of miles from all the Hawaiian girls he knows??? Let's just say I'll be sleeping with BOTH eyes open all week.

Israel, Hezbollah, Lebanon (Syria? U.S.? Arab League?). Whoever the FUCK is in charge - get your shit together. Israel, if you wanna weaken Hezbollah - bomb them, not the goddamn UN (Israeli bombs killed 4 UN peacekeepers earlier today). What good does it do to block the roads so that Lebanese civilians - CIVILIANS - can't get food and other necessary supplies??? It's been how many thousand years and you assholes are STILL fighting your fucking holy wars!!!??? I'm a student with ZERO income, and this was a damn expensive trip for me. And, while you haven't RUINED it, you've made it a helluva lot less enjoyable.

Still Alive...

I’ve been in Africa for a week, and I think I’ve gotten a pretty decent “lay of the land”. While I’m admittedly not slumming it on my trip, I’ve still been pleasantly surprised by the relative comforts and ease of getting stuff done around here. That’s obviously helped by the fact that I’ve had Shashank as my native tour guide for most of the trip (more on that later).

After arriving on Wednesday, the first couple of days were spent largely roaming, eating, drinking, and generally getting settled. It’s easy to forgot you’re in Kenya when you have one of Shashank’s several cabbie friends pick us up at the airport (Shashank seriously knows like every cabbie in the city it seems), take us to Shashank’s guarded apartment complex, and Shashank is driving us around in his ancient yet running Land Cruiser (not-so-affectionately nicknamed “The Beast” by Bhargavi). Then, you’re hit with a dose of reality when the mall where we had lunch has security guards in full army-style camouflage gear, carrying rifles in case anyone decides he wants to rob the local video store or grocer or fresh-from-the-U.S. tourist.

On Thursday, while Shashank was hard at work, I decided to explore downtown Nairobi, as I really had nothing better to do. I learned quickly that Shashank wasn’t joking when he said there isn’t much in Nairobi. The main street in downtown is basically littered with a bunch of small fast food places, electronics/cellphone stores, and other random retailers. Many of which, of course, are owned, or at least run, by Indians. After walking around for about an hour, desperately seeking some photo-ops, I explored a couple of the local parks, where the most interesting thing I found was probably the incredibly high soda vendor-to-civilian ratios.

Thursday night, I had the BEST $11 steak meal (complete with sides, salad, and drinks) that I’ve ever had in my life. Outback shmoutback.

We spent the weekend in Mombassa, which is on the Kenyan coast. As Shashank described it, it’s the “Cancun of Kenya”. While I’ve never actually been to Cancun, I hope all the spring-breakers who go there every year see more hot, young, horny 18-21 year-old girls than I did in Mombassa. Mombassa, at least at this time of year (it’s technically winter), seems to cater to a slightly older crowd – think more beach time and water sports and less booze cruises. In our efforts to get drunk, we hit up pretty much every non-hotel bar that was open in the area. On Friday night at Forty Thieves, we were having a good time drinking Jack Daniels, shooting pool, and debating whether the black girl (it’s not African-American in Kenya, FYI, so I’m not being un-PC) with the white tourist was a prostitute or not, when some drunken white Kenyan stumbled up to us and called all Americans twats. Thank you President Bush. On Saturday night, we hung around at the Tandoori Bar and Restaurant (seriously) for a bit, saw that it wasn’t picking up, then headed to Shakattack (not Shark Attack, despite the proximity to the beach), where the place was just as empty. At least there was a big screen showing a boxing match, and we were approached by a prostitute, which always makes for an interesting story. All we bought her was coffee, since I know you’re all wondering. Overall, despite the lack of good nightlife, we had a good time, enjoying the great weather, amazing food, and cheap beer. We even played some tennis and volleyball to stay somewhat active in preparation for our Kili trip. No, we didn’t have gay sex, thanks for asking.

No sooner than we had unpacked after arriving back in Nairobi did my trip, and Shashank’s life, take a somewhat dramatic turn for the worst. Shashank’s boss called from DC, and informed him that he had to go to Amman, Jordan to cover the ongoing violence in the Middle East. We celebrated by watching Superman Returns. Let’s all pray that low-tech Hezbollah missiles aren’t Shashank’s kryptonite.

Monday was spent experiencing the frustrations of a third-world country. Shashank had to book his tickets to Amman, and I had to pay for my ticket to Zanzibar, an island off the coast of Tanzania where I am going this weekend (by myself now – thanks Shashank and Bhargavi). Unfortunately, the Kenyan Airways system wasn’t accepting credit cards when we went in the morning, so we decided to have lunch and come back later to pay. When we came back, Shashank’s travel agent Rhoda was at lunch, and her understudy explained that she “did not have the confidence” to issue the tickets herself. Despite Shashank’s pleading for her to at least give it a shot, the lazy/stupid woman’s lack of confidence conquered all and she told us to come back at 2 when Rhoda would be back from lunch. After killing as much time as possible buying completely unnecessary stuff at the grocery store, we returned only to discover that the Kenyan Airways system was STILL not accepting credit cards. Off to the bank to hit the ATM and pull out about $800 in cash between the two of us, then back to the travel agent for the 4th time to finally get our tickets. After those exhausting efforts, we deserved and treated ourselves to some Scotch, a delicious Indian meal, and a shot of Grey Goose before sending Shashank off to the airport. Hope to see you again someday buddy.

For the last couple of days I’ve been on my own, which hasn’t been too bad. I’ve killed the time watching movies, taking care of some personal crap I have to get done before I get back to the U.S., and getting some desperately needed pre-Kili exercise. Had dinner with some of Shashank’s friends on Tuesday night and it was honestly one of the most, if not the most, interesting dinner of my life. Too hard to try to even explain in written words, outside of summarizing the group - a freelance journalist, a freelance photographer, an HIV-related NGO employee, a musician, a safari company owner (originally from Slovenia), one of his safari drivers (a native Kenyan), and myself. Needless to say, it was more interesting than the typical NY dinners consisting of analysts at Goldman/Accenture/[insert bank or consulting firm or accounting firm here].

In my efforts to keep this blog somewhat educational during my trip, here are some more highlights:

- Everyone here has been AMAZINGLY friendly. While that was to be expected of the hotel staff in Mombassa, I didn’t necessarily expect it to be that way everywhere. Every local that I’ve met – Shashank’s “staff”, waiters at restaurants, cabbies, airline employees, even less-well-off people like fast food workers, have been extremely nice, even though I obviously stick out as a ‘white guy’. In fact, despite how different I look, the locals have rarely stared. I’m not sure if they’re just used to awkward-looking Indian people enough to pay them no mind, but it’s been nice walking around, especially these last couple of days by myself, without everyone burning holes through my skin with dirty looks.

- It was somewhat surprising and admittedly sad to see the contrast between some of the areas I’ve been to. After seeing Nairobi for a couple days, I naively figured that was pretty much what all of Kenya was like. Poor but not “slummy”. Then we saw the areas around Mombassa and it was MUCH worst. Reminded me of the poor areas of India (although I was last there a decade ago). Shoddier buildings, much smaller, run-down houses. The locals just “looked” poorer, if that makes sense. The only reassuring aspect was that we saw what seemed like a lot of schools. Hopefully this means that at least future generations of Kenyans will be more educated and thus have better lives than their ancestors. Also – keep sending your old clothes to goodwill rather than throwing them out. I’ve seen some interesting items, such as a Chris Webber jersey back from his Warriors’ days, as well as a Chicago Bulls 1997 Championship t-shirt, that clearly indicate that somehow American hand-me-downs are getting to needy people.

- Nairobi’s a relatively safe city. Some areas are obviously worst than others – Shashank said to be wary of downtown, for example, but walking around I don’t really feel the need to protect my “valuables” or look over my shoulder. With Shashank gone, I’m not even worried about something happening to me if I went out at night – I’m more worried that I’ll get drunk and not be able to figure out how to get back to his apartment.

- It’s really interesting how connected the expat. journalists all are – besides welcoming Shashank back from Darfur and shipping him off to a warzone, I’ve already met a freelance photographer from Silver Spring, Maryland who recently followed Bill Clinton and his entourage around Eastern/Southern Africa (“extremely sexy” is how she described him), a British journalist who is trying to convince himself that he doesn’t HAVE to go to Congo even though every other Western journalist is there, an American journalist who got his current job at the AP in Addis, Ethiopia when his predecessor was booted out by the government for basically reporting the facts, another British journalist who has an incredible knowledge of American pop culture, and another American journalist who today is meeting with some cult that believes September 12, 2006 will mark the start of some sort of nuclear holocaust.

- Despite what you might think, it’s very easy to eat well here. Food is pretty cheap and, as long as you have some money, very plentiful. In Nairobi alone, I’ve already eaten steak, Indian food, Thai food (good but overpriced), and Swahili food (which bears a striking resemblance to Indian food – though maybe it’s just what we ordered).

- I don’t know if they’re locals or journalists or UN workers or whatever, but the gym where Shashank works out has some really hot Indian girls. I think I’ve seen more cute Indian girls in the few gym trips here than I did in my hundreds of trips to New York Sports Club. Yes, my gym trips have been noticeably longer than usual.

- People here seem to like their beverages at room temperature. Whatever you’re ordering – beer, coke, water - if you want it cold, you better say so. Tusker, the local brew, by the way, is a very good beer. What’s even better is that the standard-size bottle is 16 oz., not 12, and that it generally costs the equivalent of $1-2, even at bars and restaurants.

- Apparently the movie theater and mall are the Indian hotspots. About half the people at the movies and two-thirds at the gym are brownies like myself. Well, not quite like myself. I still stand out with the jeans and Cal hat. While eating lunch at the food court in the mall the other day, I saw a birthday party for some Indian kid, complete with cake and “Happy Birthday to You” singing – yup, right there in the middle of the food court. I also saw a flyer for some Indian party this coming Saturday. Unfortunately I’m gonna be in Zanzibar, but hopefully I’ll have the chance before I leave to add Nairobi to the list of cities where I’ve experienced bad Indian parties with unnecessary violence and 4-1 guy-girl ratios. Or maybe the 4-1 ratios explain all the violence. I never really thought of that.

Tomorrow I’m off to Zanzibar, then Cairo after that. Hope to have more to write soon. Pictures will likely be delayed, unfortunately, until I get back to the U.S.

Greetings from Nairobi...

Whew. That was a long trip. After barely surviving back-to-back redeye flights (LA to London, London to Nairobi), I miraculously met Shashank at the airport on Wednesday morning in Nairobi without any major difficulties. Fortunately, despite being the capital of Kenya, Nairobi’s is a pretty small airport – I guess these Kenyans, unsurprisingly, don’t have a lot of dough to be globetrotting all over the place.

Shashank had told me in previous conversations that Nairobi is very much a city divided into two – not necessarily geographically, but culturally / socioeconomically. There’s the ‘locals’ i.e. the native Kenyans, where poverty and unemployment is widespread, and there’s the ‘whites’ – which pretty much applies to any professionals or expats, regardless of skin color, with leisure time and money to burn. Shashank and myself, for example, qualify as white. Don’t worry. I promise not to return to the U.S. and demand tax cuts and gay marriage bans.

The contrast was apparent within 30 minutes of my arrival. There was the taxi ride from the airport to Shashank’s apartment, which was pretty much what you’d expect of a taxi ride in a country such as Kenya. Crowded roads, a lot of noise, and people roaming everywhere. No cows though – which combined with the skin color of the natives was probably the only thing distinguishing Nairobi from a major Indian city. Soon, we arrived at Shashank’s apartment complex, which is basically a series of six 3- or 4-floor buildings with maybe 10 apartments in each building, surrounding parking spaces, all protected by a locked gate complete with unarmed security. While far from modern by Western standards (e.g. no elevators), it’s obvious his place is upscale by East African standards. As soon as we walked into his apartment, we were greeted by Joyce, Shashank’s twice-a-week maid, who made us coffee when we arrived and left soon after (because Shashank, dodging bullets/machetes/whatever else while in Darfur, somehow forgot to stock up on laundry detergent, so she couldn’t do the wash).

The apartment – again, for your average East African – is fit for a king. Two bedrooms, two baths (keep in mind Shashank lives by himself), living room with satellite TV, kitchen with relatively modern appliances, and a large office that I am writing this from, complete with unreliable internet service, a printer, and a fax machine that may or may not work. All for the basement-bargain price of around $670/month. I may have to consider moving here for a while as I pay off my soon-to-be-incurred business school debt.

Don’t get too jealous of Shashank just yet though. While he has it better than your average person out here, he still has to deal with stuff that we Westerners take for granted. There constantly seems to be something wrong with his apartment – a nonworking sink is today’s culprit. As we went out to get lunch, he was upset to discover that his mechanic had dropped his Land Cruiser off with practically no gas. He was even more upset to discover that his car wouldn’t start. Starving as we were, we called a cab and, while waiting, kept trying to start the car. Eventually, it worked, so we cancelled the cab, and headed to the gas station to refuel. Not surprisingly, the car didn’t start there either, so we had to utilize the manual transmission for a rolling jumpstart in 2nd gear. Shashank figured all the problems were just because his car hadn’t been driven regularly in a few weeks, a hypothesis that seemed proven when the car started fine an hour later after lunch. At this point Shashank called his mechanic and told him everything was fine. Five hours later, we tried to head out to pick up some dinner. Car wouldn’t start. Only now we were in a parking lot, so the rolling jumpstart thing wouldn’t really work. Thankfully Shashank had one frozen pizza left over at his apartment, and I think the mechanic is here as we speak.

Anyways, I’ve been here close to 24 hours now. Apparently, there isn’t a lot to do in or around Nairobi (thanks for telling me this before I decided to come here for six weeks, Shashank), so I spent most of yesterday getting settled, eating proper food for the first time in a week after the 7-11 coffee, Jamba Juice, vodka, jagermeister and beer that dominated my diet while I was in California, and sleeping off most of my jetlag. Will spend today (Thursday) exploring Nairobi a bit, and then tomorrow Shashank and I fly out to Mombasa for a romantic weekend at the beach.

New Addition to the Family Tree

Well, as of Thursday July 6, it's official. I'm old.

My sister Nisha delivered a healthy, beautiful baby girl yesterday a little past 10am in Los Angeles. Mia Patel (I love the name) measured in at 19.5 inches and 6 pounds, 7 ounces (even the babies in my family are underweight). She's also surprisingly fair, considering both Nisha and my brother-in-law Rajan are somewhat dark. Needless to say my mom was thrilled with Mia's complexion. (I'll post pics as soon as I upload them).

The whole process was pretty eye-opening. Rajan came out to the waiting room at around 1030 or so. I walked into the delivery room with my parents and of course the first question was "boy or girl?", which the nurses wouldn't answer. So my mom had to sneak a peak to inform us that it was a girl. Then, within 30 minutes or so of the birth, the nurses took Mia away from my sister and the delivery room to take her to the nursery. So basically, after all the hard work of pregnancy and labor, Nisha 'lost' Mia within 30 minutes, and Rajan got to hang out with her in the nursery, watch her get cleaned up, and even go back home later in the evening for a shower and some food. Doesn't seem fair.

It's also pretty damn random how small a world it is. The resident who was helping out with the baby - Anuj's friend Arul, who I've partied with a couple times. Another of the doctors (or maybe it was a nurse) helping out - the roommate of this girl I met while partying in Santa Monica last night. Hung out all day at the hospital, and partied at night with a bunch of residents. Too many damn doctors.