THOUGH ADMITTEDLY DRUNK off Kingfisher beer — I lost count of how many — the bathroom interrogation remains remarkably clear.
It began shortly after arriving at the small thatched cabin on the edge of the Arabian Sea. My friend Sholeh and I went down to the restaurant for dinner. A big group was finishing up. The men sat at one table, making merry with many bottles of beer. The women and children sat at another table, drinking sodas. I watched as a man, having left the beer table, tried to climb into a hammock.