The intern experience is starting to turn into an Agatha Christie novel. During the day, it doesn’t seem so different. The work is about the same and lunches go pretty well. It’s at dinner the plot of the novel thickens. Interns normally mosely down to dinner around 7.30pm to 8.00pm. Before, one never had to worry about who was down there because with 70 people there was always someone.
Until now.
Every night, there’s a little less people. 10 little Indians, one by one, 10 little Indians … you get the idea. No, I didn’t pick ‘And then there were none’ because of the reference to Indians, but in a way it works (yes, I know it’s not referring to real Indians – unless of course Columbus is consulted). The mass exodus from Bangalore started last week and continues this week. By Friday, in my axis of friends there are only around 3 or 4 people left, which is fine. Smaller numbers does require more a little more communication to make certain we’re not dining alone.
Similar to the start of the programme, I now carry a book to dinner – just in case.
I’m preparing my final presentation, Shadowing project and Spanish this week. The work is going well and my anticipation for Mexico and three weeks of 24/7 Spanish is building. Of course, way before that I actually get to go home, see my lovely wife – celebrate her birthday without crutches – and enjoy a Guinness at the Windsor.
Next week, I too disappear from the hostel leaving a few behind. 10 little Indians … and then there were none.
