The noise and pollution of these rooms are really difficult.  Like trying to read Henry James in the median of I-95.  And not the good bits.  Baltimore.  Jersey.

After the sunless rooms with sewage problems in the last country, I seem to be encountering housing antinomies.  Excesses in one direction or the other.  (Not being able to book sufficiently in advance due to some admin shenanigans was the main cause.)

Onward, in moderation. 

 You can't waste time, and your life, vaguely gesturing at the pervasive corruption.  Go back to the texts that were written before the corruption set in -- they're freely available now, and not the province of the academic libraries (that nobody uses now, anyway).  Come to a separate understanding of the world strong enough to stand in the light of the tradition, and if the world, or some small portion of it, has need of it, help them if you can.

Shifting tactics on making the rooms workable.  The irritation and infection, which I at first thought was an illness from the journey, doesn't appear to be particulate-based.  The air is stale, especially in the afternoon, but the summertime 2.5 numbers are negligible.  (There have been places during this journey where the meter has gone to purple--approximately 3-4x what's usually considered a lock-the-doors crisis stateside.)  Perhaps it's a dust mite thing -- I did clear almost an inch of packed dust off of the climate control filters when I arrived.   Bagged the curtains, rolled the rug, and covered the mattress in a plastic tarp.  Will see if the symptoms persist.

It does have a psychological effect.  Bit off the game. Onward.