Day 5 8 AM. I was loitering out on the sidewalk in the spitting rain. Nearby, a small group of people huddled together beneath a shallow overhang in front of the hostel entrance. It was cold. The morning’s coffee was starting to wear off. After about fifteen minutes of soaking up the atmosphere it finally arrived. A red and yellow mini-bus plastered with the label ‘Quasimodo Tours’ on the side, pulled up alongside the anxious pedestrian battalion. The door opened and out stepped a tall, lanky character. Quasimodo’s taller, less-humped younger brother, I presumed. Immediately, he went to work. He was anxious to get started. Reading from a list of names scrawled on his clipboard he bellowed…Jimmy, Joe, Marlene, Darlene, Wei Chung, Won Do, Won Ton and on and on and on and then…nothing. My name
... read more
