We've all been having a great time in India, despite the fact that at least half the group has been sick more than half the time we've been here. You heard (if you read the g-lab.org blog) about the vomitous cavern that was the Chube Guest House, but living with an actually family adds a whole new twist. So two nights ago I was enjoying a nice sleap in my home stay supposedly fully recovered from my run in with the Chube. Then all of a sudden I wake up at three AM. "Oh man, I think I may have to throw up," I thought, "In fact, yes I do. All right, how the hell do I get out of this damn sleaping bag." Seriously, it's like a chinese finger trap, you can't get out of that thing when you most want to. I finally got out but that bath room was way too far away. My options were limited, but I stand by my decision. I made a dash for the potted plants in my room. I filled one up and then moved to the next. But that wasn't so bad, it's what the next night brought that's the winner. With that throw up came some diareah. Not so bad unless you again find yourself trapped in your sleaping bag in the middle of the night. I made it out and grabbed my roll of TP and my headlamp. I ran as quickly as I could to the Ladakhi toilet, which by the way is a hole in the floor. I whipped down my pants as quickly as I could, just in time. But unfortunately in my hurry my TP slipped from my hand...down the hole. I was left with a dilemma. I seriously don't know how my family wipes, there's not even a bucket of water or some newspaper clippings. With no rocks in sight I made the best of my limited options. I ran bare-assed back to my room and stock of extra TP. I'm pretty sure no one saw me, but one can never possitive when most of the family lives on that floor and windows are not a sparse commodity. Anyway, I hope all is well at home and I look forward to more fun Indian adventures.