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then took a nap while I waited for my laundry to be returned. A knock on the door roused me from sleep and when I opened it a hotel employee handed me my clothes. They smelled a lot better than they did when I arrived. “Thank you,” I said, and I gave her a generous tip.
    After I pulled on a T-shirt and shorts I slid my feet into my tennis shoes, grabbed my key card and my wallet, and walked to the lobby. I took the shuttle back to the airport and then boarded a ferry called a dhoni for the short trip to Malé. It was painted in shades of bright blue and orange and filled to capacity with tourists.
    Once I arrived on the mainland I decided to walk to my destination. I could have rented a motorbike or taken a taxi, but I wanted to see the capital city. The tourist brochure in my hotel room said that almost anywhere in Malé was reachable on foot within ten minutes.
    I made my way through the city streets, stopping to browse at the local market, watching as the locals mingled with the tourists. Clusters of bright yellow bananas hung overhead, and merchants stood next to tables selling local produce and fresh fruit.
    I encountered the fish market a couple of blocks away; I smelled it before I saw it. A bustling crowd made up of fisherman and customers filled the area, and I stopped and watched the men cutting fish, their slicing way more precise than anything I was capable of. I’d gotten a lot better, though, and now I wasted almost none of the fish when I cleaned them.
    I spied a sign that said NOVELTY BOOKSHOP . That was the main reason I’d taken this side trip to Malé. After crossing the street I pushed open the door and stepped into the air-conditioned space. Shelves of stationery and office supplies lined the walls. There were rows and rows of novels and textbooks, and I walked past them slowly, reading the titles on the spines, searching. The air smelled slightly musty, the way it always did when so many books were stored closely together, but it was a familiar smell and reminded me of all the time I spent in the library in college.
    I finally found what I was looking for in the nonfiction section, near the self-help books. The selection was limited, but there were several books on house framing. I picked up one and opened it to the table of contents. There were chapters on the materials and tools I’d need, and also the various building techniques. I stood there for fifteen minutes flipping through the books, finally choosing the one that had the most information on everything I’d need to know. I added all the current issues of every business magazine they sold, and that day’s edition of
USA Today.
I didn’t regret my decision to leave the business world, not for a minute, but I still felt the desire to know how the current trends were playing out.
    When I left the bookstore I was whistling because I never felt better than when I had a plan.
    •   •   •
    That night I ate dinner at the bar in my hotel. I sat outside on the deck and ordered a beer and a cheeseburger and fries, which tasted better than any burger and fries ever had. I ordered another beer after my plate had been cleared and drank it while watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean. When it was fully dark the lights of Malé lit up the sky.
    I wandered inside and took a seat at the bar. Many of the customers were playing pool or throwing darts. They seemed to be a mix of businessmen wearing suits and seaplane pilots wearing short-sleeve shirts bearing their airlines’ names and logos. There was a definite shortage of women, which bummed me out because after thirty days alone, I would have been more than happy to spot a girl sitting at the bar.
    I had one more beer and then I called it a night and headed to my room. Before I went to sleep I opened the house-framing book and made a long and detailed list of everything I would need.
    •   •   •
    The next morning I showered and ordered coffee and breakfast from room service. I