Vishakhapatnam is a port city in the middle of the East Coast of India, overlooking the Bay of Bengal. It is covert and strategically positioned, a critical naval base of the Indian Military, with a city population of almost 650,000.
It's not large, but also not small either. At least while walking in this Indian-atmosphere city, there were crowds and shouts of hawkers everywhere, the place teemed with people. Various motorcycles, tricycles, cars traveled on narrow roads, crowded and unyielding, occasionally running over cow dung scattered all over the ground.
A fruit and snack stall is blatantly set up in the middle of the cow dung. The lower-caste vendors with dark skin were leisurely calling out a few lines, casually wiping an apple with a dirty rag, always keeping the apple neat and clean, or at least apparently, it looked spotless.
Xu Jie walked disgustedly on these chaotic streets, feeling that his trip to India was really unlucky.
