Sunday, November 23, 2008
Five two year olds
Saturday, November 22, 2008
The dog that barks at me
Masha very big dog, too. His paws are about as big as my hands and I was very uncomfortable with his greeting one day: his teeth around my shoulder.
This is me walking up to the house approaching Masha's cage and awaiting his bark.
This is the door whose squeak Masha waits for to know that it's time to bark at me.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
An interesting video
And: it's a lot more like the people I know.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Thawing out
It snowed last week. I woke up and it was cold with no electricity or sunshine.
I wimped out and couldn't get out to teach. It was so cold inside that after trying to do a few things around the house before going to teach in the afternoon, I ended up back in bed under my down comforter. I couldn't come out. You're supposed to hibernate in the winter.
Later, I was relieved that it wasn't all in my head--I had a real sickness cold, not just an aversion to the cold outside.
Anyhow. The electricity that had gone off sometime in the night stayed off all day and all the next night. It returned just before noon the following day. Which is a relief because now my electric blanket and the hot water heater work.
The sun that also decided to shine today is another relief.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The government school next door
So this was exam week.
The children lined up in these rows on the ground to take their tests.
The passersby, especially army personnel, like to watch them over the wall.
The teachers also sit on the ground for their breaks and meetings--except the head teacher.
But even she has to stand up in attention and give over her chair when the big man comes to inspect things.
Everyone is very relieved when exams are over.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
IhateitIloveit
There were moments of "Oh, I hate this",
like when the guy behind me in line at the ATM told me to move forward and close in the four inch gap between me and the man in front of me. No thank you, I like my personal space, small as it is.
Or when there was one check out line at the grocery store that took at least half an hour to get through.
Or when the rickshaw-driver-with-a-death-wish nearly drove us off the road where it drops eight feet and later did not notice the car backing out in front of him.
Or the beggar woman who called me a "maharaja daughter" and told me to give her food before cursing me.
Or that buying groceries and eating out for lunch took four and a half hours.
And then there were moments of "Wah, is there anywhere in the world like this place?"
Like when the check out attendant told one of his minions to bring me a free carton of guava juice.
Or the other clerk who gave me a two-for-one deal on matches.
The smell of freshly cooked rice and the fall which can't be matched.
Or a walk on the bund over the newly fallen chinar leaves.
There was the ancient man in an even more ancient photo shop who ambled over the creaking floor to tell us he didn't have any camera batteries.
And the other old man in a camera shop who did his best to produce the battery we needed, even sending his assistant several blocks away to look while he gave a us a newspaper to read.
Or the relief of finally being back home where everything is quiet.