It’s the United Nations of internet cafes. And it is packed. A Japanese hippie with dreadlocks is in the midst of an online chat. Spanish-speaking people from Spanish-speaking nations speak to each other in, yes, Spanish. A Swiss woman with a brand new degree in nursing checks her email after a day of volunteering at Calcutta Rescue.

I’m sitting at one of two terminals at the front of the establishment. Normally, the young Indian men who staff the cafe sit here. But because it is so crowded today, they put me at one of their computers instead.

And so, people start assuming I work here.

As I type away, a European woman waits patiently to talk to me. She wants a computer, and she thinks I have the power to make it so.

I tell her the store is shutting down, and I’m sorry. The manager hears my joke, and explains to her that I don’t work here – “He just looks Indian.”