We were there to observe, do a meet-and-greet, and not ruffle any feathers. We were shown to a decent, but kinda shabby, guest house. We knew that we had to be careful of what we said, one: not to offend, and two: because the place most likely bugged.

In touring the local area, the place was a strip of land between the ocean and another body of water. Most of the buildings were fairly rundown, but still in good use. The area was the muted green of a cold, coastal area but with a lack of development, there were plenty of wild places and we saw several rare birds with pretty colors. I noticed on the walk, when on a slight hill, that there was some snow in outlying areas and got the feeling that some of the snow had been shoveled away for our benefit and out of our sight.

When we walked back into town, we received mixed reactions from the locals. A blonde lady approached us, out of the Gorbachev guy's sight, begging us for political help. I quietly told her to just hand us over the papers she had in her hands, because we can't discuss this out in the open. She surrendered the papers to us, but she still looked anxious as we walked away.

Next there was a dive bar/restaurant where the locals were lingering outside, who muttered as we walked past. We ducked into a supplies store run by an ex-pat Indian family. Behind the counter is a young, idealistic son of the family, who spied us and started excitedly started spouting radical, pro-US stuff at us. Trying to silence him, I gave him my necklace saying it was from my hometown. It had a brown, wooden medallion with some designs carved into it. He took it with reverence, but it quieted him down.

We walk back to the guest house, and the Gorby-guy hangs out with us, playing the good host. The conversation is light, but not without some tension. Before he leaves for the night, he kindly informs me that he would need to let out his dogs sometime during the night and to just be careful. It wasn't an outright threat, and didn't even seem to be a veiled threat, just a heads up and not to be ignored.

In the morning, we packed our things, carefully about our wording and conversations (in case of being recorded), but Ryn tried to talk about the papers we received, but I cut her off. Instead I whispered to Ryn that if she had any important papers she wanted to keep, she should wrap those into the clothes she's packing.

The young Indian guy showed up at our doorstep in the morning. He turned out to be our ride to the airport. He has also fallen for me. (There's a flash-forward to us being married to him, and me the good wifey.) Apparently he's usually anal about being on time and etc, but he was quite relaxed with us.

We were nervous, but we were allowed onto the plane with all our luggage. We were going home!

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