I’m sitting at the Miami International airport waiting to board my last flight pondering about the conclusion of the long, and needless to say, life-changing experience I just had. As I sit here, over analyzing, I’m trying to figure out what these children, and this model, and India mean to me all together, and it is impossible to put in words. I guess what I would love to do for this “end of the beginning” is recount the last amazing few days I had in India and what it feels like to be back on this side of the world.
The goodbye began Monday morning even though everyone knew that I was not leaving until Wednesday. For some time, all of the girls had asked me to wear Indian clothes for my last days there, and so I did. I wore my blue sari on Monday and though it was very sweet to see their excited faces, It some how also signified that my stay there was coming to an end. Therefore, the melodic cries of my fourth graders began that morning, along with the first few out of dozens of cards cards ( I ended up with 200 of them) saying something along the lines of: “Please don’t leave me, but if you must, I wish you the best of luck and you will be in my heart forever”. This time I wouldn’t try to make some stupid joke in an effort to make them laugh, this time it was just not in me to do that, I usually just looked up at the ceiling expecting somehow that the knot in my throat would just slip right down into my stomach. It was okay if glistening tears rolled down my cheeks but I thought I’d leave the unending and much louder cries for later on that week. Teaching class my last three days was the most difficult thing during my whole stay there.
Anyways, the last few days it was as if the Indian breeze smelled sweeter, as if the sun shined brighter, as if the amount of spice in the food was just right and as if every minute of my day was worth gold. I just wished the days would keep on going; that they would never end. But then again, when I would go to bed, I would close my eyes and dream of home; it was time.
There was one thing however that made the last of it all a bit stressful. The children have these so called “autograph” books, where they ask the volunteers that come and go to leave their feelings about them writing down on paper. First of all, they gave me about 80 books two nights before I left expecting me to write pages and pages, amongst the nervousness of packing my bags and saying goodbye. And secondly, though I came up with sweet words to write on each personalized book, my words fell short from what each of them really meant to me. Regardless, I know that it meant the world to them, and so my last night there I stayed up the whole night (that’s right, before my 18 hour flight and 20 hours of traveling) and I wrote in each one of the books. Towards the end the notes became shorter and my handwriting messier but they know I tried my best.
Then the time came when Ms. Beena (vice-principle) stood up in front of the whole school at assembly to summarize, in a few words, what I had meant for this school. She spoke about how much she along with everyone else truly appreciated everything I had done and that they were going to miss my enthusiasm and affection. Then, Rajni stood up and said that the choir had prepared the last few nights to sing for me a couple songs that he knew I would love. He sat at the piano, and began to play the most beautiful music. They first sang a Tamil song and then they sang a song from the Phantom of the Opera, the one that says: “Think of me, think of me fondly when we say goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you’ll try…”. He played to powerfully and they sang so sweetly, and I just cried; out of sorrow, out of joy, and out gratitude. Then it was time for me to stand in front of the school to say goodbye and say anything I wanted about my experience with them at Shanti Bhavan. It was very difficult to speak because I was crying but I did say a few words. I spoke about how harmony is one of my favorite things in this world, and I that I had never experienced a harmony as strong as it was at Shanti Bhavan. I encouraged them to see in each other the good things and to appreciate their differences and to celebrate their similarities. The whole assembly was very emotive and a truly perfect goodbye.
I left Shanti Bhavan with tear-filled eyes but with an ecstatic heart. I am so excited to go home and I just cannot wait to take part in igniting smiles on the faces of Nicaraguan children. This model that The George Foundation has established is a brilliant one. Embracing a “smaller” group of underprivileged children and providing for them an education like the one that you and I receive. Meanwhile, inculcating in them values and ethics geared towards helping each other and those they left behind rather than one of personal successes and material gains. These children speak of becoming the best they can be and for what…to go right back to where they began and build a new tomorrow for those people in the untouched corners of our world.
************************************
It has been a pleasure sharing this experience with you and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for accompanying me through my words.
A million thanks to those who made it possible for me to get to India, this experience and therefore, you, have changed my life.
Love
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Bharath Obama?
There is an uncanny resemblance between the new American President elect Mr. Barack Obama and one of my fourth graders, Bharath.
My roomate Suparna decided to interview him:
I hope you enjoy as much as i did =)
************************************
An interview with Bharath of the 4th grade, president-elect Barack Obama's doppelganger.
Q. How does it feel to look like Barack Obama?
A. It feels awful. I need to do so much of work and I need to change so much after six years...
Q. You do realize that you're not actually Barack Obama?
A. ...and I know that I'm not him. I need to have long boring meetings.
Q. Would you want to be president of India?
A. Yes, but not of America. I like the people of India and I want to take care of my parents. Diwali and the best festivals are in India. And I can eat chicken.
Q. Are you happy for Barack Obama?
A. Nope.
Q. Why not?
A. Because others are scolding him. Barack Obama turned his back on some people. I don't know who, but we heard in news today.
Q. So you heard only half of the news?
A. Yes.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Chopin, Puppets, Robots and A SNAKE.
Hello everyone!
First of all, thank you for all of your concerns regarding the current situation in
I am a bit nervous about my flights back but I'll make sure to listen to good music on my I-pod and say a prayer every hour or so...On Thursday morning the government called out a red alert for all the main airports in India; they receive threatening emails about possible terrorist attacks in the airports of Bangalore, Madras and New Delhi. I fly via
Though there are terrorists and killings and hate in the world, there are corners where the sun shines bright and where smiles spell out the word love...places like Shanti Bhavan. We have had a wonderful past couple of weeks. I know it was a bit early but we actually decorated our classroom with CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS =), they are amazing. We drew a huge Santa Clause and a huge Elf, and a huge Rudolf; we made stockings that we hung from golden colored strings, and as they dangle in the breeze, the kids look over at them once in a while and open their eyes wide with excitement. Before I leave next week, I will fill them up with cute pencils and candy so that they can cheer up a bit. Though we have indeed had a blast, this week has also been a crazy tear fest. I feel so sad. Many of the fourth graders, as they sit quietly doing their math problems, they suddenly start crying, one by one...they don't want me to go. The tears break my heart and though I want to cry too, I swallow the tears and make a farting noise with my mouth, and say, "Woah, did you hear that? What was that? Who was it? That one is gonna be a smeeeeelly one", and they all crack up and in seconds forget why they were crying. Next week, tears will flow but there is nothing wrong with crying. We all deserve the chance to say goodbye to our beautifully established bonds.
Anyways, enough about the goodbye...Something I had yet to mention about Shanti Bhavan is the way they celebrate children's birthdays. Seeing as how there are only 365 days in a year and 206 children, birthdays occur very frequently, so although the celebration of each birthday is not very big, it surely is very emotive and sweet. In the assembly hall stands a bulletin board that reads whose birthday it is each day. In says 'Happy Birthday' in huge letters, the date off course and the child's name and grade. Then, during teatime in the cafeteria, they help the child stand up on a chair and everyone else circles around them to sing Happy Birthday. The second verse is "May God Bless you, May God bless you, Happy Birthday (Ex.) Dear Chandra, may God Bless you". It is really beautiful. But that is not all. Then, following an Indian custom, the child grabs a large tray and walks around handing a candy to each one of the staff members and volunteers. For one's birthday, you give presents rather than receive them.
Another event I had yet to mention is that last week, a British freelance journalist, Amarin White, mingled around Shanti Bhavan for the full week, interviewing as many people as she could, and taking thousands of pictures a day. Amarin has traveled the world in search of stories, bringing to light stories that have perhaps only been silenced because of neglect or because of the thick boundaries society has built between the urban and the rural. She is a remarkable woman who asked the right questions at the right time and who then equably drifted away into the background with her camera, almost becoming invisible and brilliantly capturing moments in these children's lives. Those moments could seem trivial but I'm sure that in her photographs you can see not only the faces of these wonderful children but also the face of hope, and of a model that is trying to lessen the forsaking of the people in these corners of the world. It was an honor to have met her and I look forward to keeping in touch with her.
On a different note, this week has been exam week for the middle school and high school grades. I don't know if you remember when I spoke about the first exam week, in which the fourth graders decided to be the loudest possible. Well, having had that experience, help all 19 of us to amend our reputation on exam week, we were amazing. I played this "Silent teams" game with them, in which they were divided into groups by their rows. Then within each group, someone was assigned to be the leader for the day to keep their team in order. The row with the highest points at the end of the week would get more surprises in their Christmas stockings. It worked like a charm. And they too kept reminding each other that is was "EXAM WEEK". Also, I wanted them to feel special and a part of this famous "tough" week, so they had a vocabulary "exam" on Friday. It included 38 words from all the stories we have read the past couple of months. They were so excited about it, and they studied really hard for it. I have yet to correct but I must certainly get to that before the emotion-filled goodbyes in of few days.
For a few weeks now, Rajni (11th grade piano player) and I had been preparing a piece to perform at the Saturday assembly. It went realy well and everyone love seeing someone dance to piano accompaniment. He first played Chopin's prelude in E minor and then transitioned into a piano improve, meanwhile I performed a dance improve to his music. It was great to se him get lost in his music, he played so beautifully. Before the performance he asked me: “Blue Jay what do you do when you get nervous before performing?…I’m kind of nervous, I even feel like going to the lou”. I told him to say a prayer and to then try to remember the amazing feeling he experiences every time he plays his music during practice. And that during performance he should try and play just as passionately, as if no one is watching. It seemed to have worked since he played brilliantly. Then the KG and the 1st graders did their final presentation of what they learned in dance class these past few months. The KG danced as puppets and puppeteers and the 1st grade dance as robots. Imagine cute, wide-eye, tiny puppets and robots =).
After school today, Saturday, all the teachers and volunteers decided to have a good-bye lunch in Hosur at the yummy restaurant we often visit, Janani's. I will be the first volunteer to leave and then in the next week or two the other volunteers trickle away. The teachers are quirky and great and it was an honor to have worked with such selfless and welcoming people. At the lunch, Suparna and I gave a little speech thanking them for all their willingness to make us feel at home and for being some of the most selfless and therefore admirable people we have ever met. It was a very nice time.
Another event: So, I have three fears, and I try telling myself that I shouldn't fear anything, but there three things are just impossible to dismiss. None of them have anything to do with each other so I'll only mention the one relevant to the paragraph- SNAKES. I SAW A HUGE SNAKE! Now that I've seen one, they scare me even more. Now, I'm not talking about a little puny snake that hides in corners, I'm talking about an enormously long snake that was maybe the width of a coconut. I can make this comparison because when I saw the snake I was sitting on my back porch under a soft shade from the coconut and papaya trees. The hissing THING, out of nowhere, just began to slither away from about two feet away. Oh my goodness, I'm not kidding, my heart stopped as I screamed, spilled my coffee and jumped up onto a chair. It seemed to be endlessly long; it was probably like 10 feet long.
This is, I'm very sad to say, my second to last post and my last post from this dear Internet cafe in
God Bless.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
"You will always be here".
Hello Everyone!
I can't believe it's November and I have less than one month here. These past two weeks I have come to realize just how soon I will be leaving and to be quite honest, although writing this blog has helped me process the whole experience, I'm having a very difficult time writing about what has been going on around here; I'm probably thinking too much about what these months have meant all together and its difficult to pin point specifics. I'm overwhelmed. The kids however, help me to keep smiling every day.
In my fourth grade class, there is a new sort of understanding that I am leaving soon, so we have all cranked up the sweetness, and they are certainly paying more attention, trying to be in conversation with me all class long, even if it means talking about fractions or the planets' orbits around the sun. I have come to know every child on a personal level. I won't mention all eighteen of them but for example, there is Harish whose smile and sweetness warms my heart each morning. There is Vijay, the charismatic and clever one; his expressions and jokes could make anyone laugh. There is Hannah who has beautiful, curious eyes and whose silence is never awkward, it's often the most amazing sound amongst the constant commotion of my classroom. There is persuading Ajay, whose puppy faces when apologizing make me crumble like a warm cookie. And Bhavana whose voice always fills me with empathy as I see her squishing her eyes together as she struggles through her stutter. And as such, I could say something about each one; I have yet again been given the chance to love, and what better than with 18 amazing children.
Then there are the sixth graders who have confided in me many sad stories as we try to find healing in trustworthiness and community. They enjoy our Wednesday night classes very much but at the end of the class they all lower their chins, wrinkle their foreheads and a few of them come up to me and say: "Only three more classes left. Will you always remember us"? "I will, I always will". With them I am leaving a part of me, one that wishes to always be there for them as they continue striving to deal with their traumas.
Every morning after breakfast I have about a half hour to kill before school starts, so from 8:00 to 8:25 I hang out in the music room with Ragini, a passionate piano player from the 11th grade. He loves playing songs from the musicals "Wicked" and "Les Miserables". I have tried my best to sing along. He appreciates my effort and says that he doesn't mind the raspy sounds of my injured vocal cords. I suggested he learn my favorite Chopin piece, Prelude in E minor, he learned it really well, and these days he plays it and I dance...we both appreciate our mutual love for music and art. Everyday as he closes up the piano, we say "It's only 8:25 in the morning but thank you for making my day". One morning I came in, not as my usual self, I was sad; it was exactly three weeks until my flight away from India. He said: "Blue Jay, why would you be sad? You cannot possibly be sad if you think about all the great things you have taught us. And also, just because you will not be here physically does not mean you will not be here with us; you will always be here". *Tear*
Also, this week I informed the school during morning assembly about all the horrible things happening in Nicaragua. I was honest with them and told them that I was really sad and really worried but that fortunately my family and friends were all okay. It was comforting when child by child, for the rest of that day, came up to me saying that they were sorry to hear about the news in "my country" and that they would keep NicaWagua and my family in their prayers. These children, though they have many different religious backgrounds and though the school is secular, they all seem to be truly spiritual; it is a privilege to witness such spirituality in people so young.
On a less emotional note, I have finally found the adequate way to explain to the 4th graders the concept of time in terms of am and pm, grant it, we have been working on "time" for about two weeks. "Okay lets try to understand this by talking about your daily schedule. You wake up at 6 am, you get dressed, go to breakfast, then you go to school for so long; you have EIGHT total periods with lunch in between, it seems like classes go on forever. Then after school, you go for physical training and then you all shower and watch videos as you wait for dinnertime. During all those activities the clock is ticking...tick, tock, tick tock. 12 WHOLE HOURS have passed..." I then did the same for their night schedule and explain for how many hours they actually sleep. It was as if they "saw the light"... they grew two inches taller as they sat up straight, feeling like they could reach the ceiling with this new discovery, this new knowledge. I'm almost sure that moments like these are when a teacher says: "This is why I teach"; it was awesome.
Speaking about the kids we celebrated children's day last Friday and the presentation that the volunteers, the teachers and the housemothers put together was great. The kids truly enjoyed themselves for the whole hour and a half. They would take quick breaths between hysterically laughing and forgetting to breath from excitement during the parts that were "soooo nice" (an overused phrase around here). We did our "teacher dance" to a mix that included Thalia and Michael Jackson, yeah quite the wacky duo, but there was a whole story line about how one dance was more "appropriate" than the other, it was funny. We also put together a skit, where Snow White was actually a man and when the dwarfs thought he was dead, they acted out a typical Tamil mourning ceremony; the kids couldn't stop laughing. I also danced an up beat piece, and every time I jumped or would do some sort of stretch, with my bad wheel and all, they would all go, "wooooah", out load; it was really cute.
Mr. Raman and Mrs. Runu Roy
After the Children's day presentation, Suparna and I headed to Bangalore for my last weekend in the city. We stayed at Suparna's family's place. This time the apartment was of an older couple whose two daughters live in the United States. You can tell the parents miss them terribly. They are amazing people, they cooked us typical Indian home-style meals, and we had tea in the afternoons and conversed for hours. The gentleman was very interested in Nicaragua as I was in their Indian life. On Saturday, they drove us to a huge book fair where we bought good books for the school library at one-fourth their price. We then went to an "Indian mall" which I had yet to go to and my goodness; it's a different India in there. It's seriously just like Valley Fair (for my Cali friends) or Dadeland (For my non-Cali friends), except some women wear saris and it smells like spices. Anyways we had lunch at the food court, and the food was actually really good, Indian food can be really complex but it can also be very simple and just as good. Then the lady bought both Suparna and I really cute wooden bracelets with Indian designs on them...how sweet is that?
Mr. Raman is a very knowledgeable man who retired a few years ago after working some techy job between Boston and Bangalore for most of his life. He is totally anti-development and anti-west, while accepting the flaws of his Indian sub continent and its dirty cities. He reminded me of that character in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", the father who thought the Greeks invented everything in this world. Similarly, Mr. Raman thinks American commercialism is greedy and unnecessary and that their fatty foods pale in comparison to amazing, tasty, scrumptious Indian food, which by they way he says, takes way more time to make than any western food and must therefore be much better. He finished his comments (which his wife, referred to as lectures, haha) with a "so, derr it tis". The Roys are most definitely two of my favorite Indians.
Me Time
Although I am actually savoring every bite of spiciness these days during the three meals, occasionally, a really cute and chubby child awakens inside of me asking for a pinch of sweet. Well, the child got so pushy that I ended up climbing a 12-foot papaya tree and cutting down a papaya. I wrapped it in newspaper and patiently waited a couple days for it to ripen, promising the child in me that it would be the sweetest papaya we ever tasted. Oh, it was so sweet.
A usual sight here, past 6 pm, is bugs, tons and tons of bugs. We are in the middle of a "dry jungle plateau" sort of, which apparently is a bug paradise. Insects, some noisy and small, some large and strange, suddenly appear like ideas in the evenings. Some burn themselves in the energy-saving light bulbs we have the privilege to use when there is power, while others just, well, bug. A couple nights ago, as I was typing away on my computer, a large praying mantis came flying straight at my face. I freaked out and almost threw my computer to the floor as I tried to jump off the bed. The mantis decided to land and chill right on my pillow. After a few girly, pitchy screams, I called in another volunteer to take it outside with a cup and book. The whole time I could only think about how they chop their mate's heads off and thought that they must be just as violent with humans; I'm sure it felt very unwanted.
I started reading a new book, it's written by an Indian author, Arundhati Roy and it is titled The God of Small Things. It was acclaimed internationally and so far I'm enjoying it very much. So yeah in my short spare time, I read sometimes and sometimes I sit and stare and drink coffee and think too much...I love it; decompression at its finest.
I can't believe it's November and I have less than one month here. These past two weeks I have come to realize just how soon I will be leaving and to be quite honest, although writing this blog has helped me process the whole experience, I'm having a very difficult time writing about what has been going on around here; I'm probably thinking too much about what these months have meant all together and its difficult to pin point specifics. I'm overwhelmed. The kids however, help me to keep smiling every day.
In my fourth grade class, there is a new sort of understanding that I am leaving soon, so we have all cranked up the sweetness, and they are certainly paying more attention, trying to be in conversation with me all class long, even if it means talking about fractions or the planets' orbits around the sun. I have come to know every child on a personal level. I won't mention all eighteen of them but for example, there is Harish whose smile and sweetness warms my heart each morning. There is Vijay, the charismatic and clever one; his expressions and jokes could make anyone laugh. There is Hannah who has beautiful, curious eyes and whose silence is never awkward, it's often the most amazing sound amongst the constant commotion of my classroom. There is persuading Ajay, whose puppy faces when apologizing make me crumble like a warm cookie. And Bhavana whose voice always fills me with empathy as I see her squishing her eyes together as she struggles through her stutter. And as such, I could say something about each one; I have yet again been given the chance to love, and what better than with 18 amazing children.
Then there are the sixth graders who have confided in me many sad stories as we try to find healing in trustworthiness and community. They enjoy our Wednesday night classes very much but at the end of the class they all lower their chins, wrinkle their foreheads and a few of them come up to me and say: "Only three more classes left. Will you always remember us"? "I will, I always will". With them I am leaving a part of me, one that wishes to always be there for them as they continue striving to deal with their traumas.
Every morning after breakfast I have about a half hour to kill before school starts, so from 8:00 to 8:25 I hang out in the music room with Ragini, a passionate piano player from the 11th grade. He loves playing songs from the musicals "Wicked" and "Les Miserables". I have tried my best to sing along. He appreciates my effort and says that he doesn't mind the raspy sounds of my injured vocal cords. I suggested he learn my favorite Chopin piece, Prelude in E minor, he learned it really well, and these days he plays it and I dance...we both appreciate our mutual love for music and art. Everyday as he closes up the piano, we say "It's only 8:25 in the morning but thank you for making my day". One morning I came in, not as my usual self, I was sad; it was exactly three weeks until my flight away from India. He said: "Blue Jay, why would you be sad? You cannot possibly be sad if you think about all the great things you have taught us. And also, just because you will not be here physically does not mean you will not be here with us; you will always be here". *Tear*
Also, this week I informed the school during morning assembly about all the horrible things happening in Nicaragua. I was honest with them and told them that I was really sad and really worried but that fortunately my family and friends were all okay. It was comforting when child by child, for the rest of that day, came up to me saying that they were sorry to hear about the news in "my country" and that they would keep NicaWagua and my family in their prayers. These children, though they have many different religious backgrounds and though the school is secular, they all seem to be truly spiritual; it is a privilege to witness such spirituality in people so young.
On a less emotional note, I have finally found the adequate way to explain to the 4th graders the concept of time in terms of am and pm, grant it, we have been working on "time" for about two weeks. "Okay lets try to understand this by talking about your daily schedule. You wake up at 6 am, you get dressed, go to breakfast, then you go to school for so long; you have EIGHT total periods with lunch in between, it seems like classes go on forever. Then after school, you go for physical training and then you all shower and watch videos as you wait for dinnertime. During all those activities the clock is ticking...tick, tock, tick tock. 12 WHOLE HOURS have passed..." I then did the same for their night schedule and explain for how many hours they actually sleep. It was as if they "saw the light"... they grew two inches taller as they sat up straight, feeling like they could reach the ceiling with this new discovery, this new knowledge. I'm almost sure that moments like these are when a teacher says: "This is why I teach"; it was awesome.
Speaking about the kids we celebrated children's day last Friday and the presentation that the volunteers, the teachers and the housemothers put together was great. The kids truly enjoyed themselves for the whole hour and a half. They would take quick breaths between hysterically laughing and forgetting to breath from excitement during the parts that were "soooo nice" (an overused phrase around here). We did our "teacher dance" to a mix that included Thalia and Michael Jackson, yeah quite the wacky duo, but there was a whole story line about how one dance was more "appropriate" than the other, it was funny. We also put together a skit, where Snow White was actually a man and when the dwarfs thought he was dead, they acted out a typical Tamil mourning ceremony; the kids couldn't stop laughing. I also danced an up beat piece, and every time I jumped or would do some sort of stretch, with my bad wheel and all, they would all go, "wooooah", out load; it was really cute.
Mr. Raman and Mrs. Runu Roy
After the Children's day presentation, Suparna and I headed to Bangalore for my last weekend in the city. We stayed at Suparna's family's place. This time the apartment was of an older couple whose two daughters live in the United States. You can tell the parents miss them terribly. They are amazing people, they cooked us typical Indian home-style meals, and we had tea in the afternoons and conversed for hours. The gentleman was very interested in Nicaragua as I was in their Indian life. On Saturday, they drove us to a huge book fair where we bought good books for the school library at one-fourth their price. We then went to an "Indian mall" which I had yet to go to and my goodness; it's a different India in there. It's seriously just like Valley Fair (for my Cali friends) or Dadeland (For my non-Cali friends), except some women wear saris and it smells like spices. Anyways we had lunch at the food court, and the food was actually really good, Indian food can be really complex but it can also be very simple and just as good. Then the lady bought both Suparna and I really cute wooden bracelets with Indian designs on them...how sweet is that?
Mr. Raman is a very knowledgeable man who retired a few years ago after working some techy job between Boston and Bangalore for most of his life. He is totally anti-development and anti-west, while accepting the flaws of his Indian sub continent and its dirty cities. He reminded me of that character in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", the father who thought the Greeks invented everything in this world. Similarly, Mr. Raman thinks American commercialism is greedy and unnecessary and that their fatty foods pale in comparison to amazing, tasty, scrumptious Indian food, which by they way he says, takes way more time to make than any western food and must therefore be much better. He finished his comments (which his wife, referred to as lectures, haha) with a "so, derr it tis". The Roys are most definitely two of my favorite Indians.
Me Time
Although I am actually savoring every bite of spiciness these days during the three meals, occasionally, a really cute and chubby child awakens inside of me asking for a pinch of sweet. Well, the child got so pushy that I ended up climbing a 12-foot papaya tree and cutting down a papaya. I wrapped it in newspaper and patiently waited a couple days for it to ripen, promising the child in me that it would be the sweetest papaya we ever tasted. Oh, it was so sweet.
A usual sight here, past 6 pm, is bugs, tons and tons of bugs. We are in the middle of a "dry jungle plateau" sort of, which apparently is a bug paradise. Insects, some noisy and small, some large and strange, suddenly appear like ideas in the evenings. Some burn themselves in the energy-saving light bulbs we have the privilege to use when there is power, while others just, well, bug. A couple nights ago, as I was typing away on my computer, a large praying mantis came flying straight at my face. I freaked out and almost threw my computer to the floor as I tried to jump off the bed. The mantis decided to land and chill right on my pillow. After a few girly, pitchy screams, I called in another volunteer to take it outside with a cup and book. The whole time I could only think about how they chop their mate's heads off and thought that they must be just as violent with humans; I'm sure it felt very unwanted.
I started reading a new book, it's written by an Indian author, Arundhati Roy and it is titled The God of Small Things. It was acclaimed internationally and so far I'm enjoying it very much. So yeah in my short spare time, I read sometimes and sometimes I sit and stare and drink coffee and think too much...I love it; decompression at its finest.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
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