I spent three days feeling nauseaus and living with everything that goes along with it. Maybe it was something I ate at the restaurant near Park Street. It’s also possible that one of the cups wasn’t washed properly. Or it could have been the water I used to rinse my toothbrush.
Either way, I’m finally recovering and was able to enjoy a hefty breakfast today. Still haven’t been able to get back into rich foods.
I haven’t seen a single other person wearing a hat in a city of over 10 million where it’s always sunny and deathly hot.
Heading to the North of the city, by way of the outskirts, we passed a roadside textile mall. For about a kilometre on either side, hundreds of vendors hawk shirts and other garments to countless clients.
Most of the buyers are themselves merchants. They buy bags of shirts in bulk and cart them back into the city proper, where they resell them out of shops no larger than a closet or shower stall.
We were stuck in the midst of the congestion, traffic brought to a standstill going both ways. Buses filled with men going to work, hand-drawn carts, and men riding bicycles with precarious bundles stacked atop the handle bars filled the streets between the sellers.
One day, after the rainstorm, the temperature lowered itself down to roughly 25 degrees. It felt almost cold. I can say the same happens during the warmer days. When it’s 38 degrees outside plus humidity, setting the AC down to 26 almost demands pants and a sweat by contrast.