What a quiet couple of days it has been. I have really fallen into a schedule here, and the days seem to be flying by. The weekend is tomorrow, where did this week go? The lifestyle here is so different; very calm, and relaxed. It is as if time is slowed down, nothing needs to be rushed; but at the same time the days seem to be sliding through my fingers.
Last night the children came home and finished their homework fairly early. Maha drew this beautiful picture, which Durga colored. I was very complimentary and soon I was flooded by a sea of drawings, all awaiting my stamp of approval. I asked Subala to draw one of me, and never before have I looked so crazed and on drugs. The sad thing is that she was being completely serious. A couple other kids drew pictures of me too, and whenever they went to draw my head they would take a bracelet and trace it to get a perfect circle. I didn’t think that my head was super round, but whenever they draw anyone else the head is a nicely shaped oval.
Right before dinner Priya got into a disagreement with her parents. Xavier’s back has been very swollen for a while now. At the beginning of the week it was so bad that he couldn’t even sleep. Wednesday night I gave him ibuprofen. I was reluctant to share medicine, especially if it were to have some side effect, but Xavier was in such pain, and ibuprofen isn’t that strong, so after talking to Kumari about it I gave him two. He was able to sleep that night, and wanted to move the heavy things out of this house and into the second floor of the new one (we have the second floor, but won’t get the first until September, which is a whole other story). It took a lot to explain to him that just because he felt better didn’t mean he was; it was just masking the pain so he should still be very careful. Anyway, Xavier needed to leave at four the next morning in order to get to a special doctor several towns over in time. Kumari wanted to go with him because she knows Xavier won’t ask any questions and will try to downplay what he is feeling, and that he will go along with whatever the doctor says. Since I don’t speak Tamil, it meant Priya would need to stay home to arrange the autorickshaws for the children. Priya, however, had mended a beautiful sari for her friend, and that morning she was supposed to give it to her so she could wear it on her birthday. She had made a promise. Priya sat in the corner with tears in her eyes because she is not allowed to speak up or argue with her parent’s choice. To make matters worse, she was then yelled at for not happily going along with her parents orders by James, the cook, of all people. I felt terrible and useless since I could not take care of getting the children to school by myself. A couple hours later, though, Xavier announced that he would like to see the doctor alone, and all the heartache was for nothing.
For dinner Kumari was going through all the different Indian dishes and came across one that I hadn’t tried yet. It was this tortilla type thing, but had layers and pieces that you could rip off and eat curry with. It is complicated to make, and apparently uses more oil than we had in the house, so we ordered it from the hotel up the road. I ate all of its oily goodness, and sopped up most of the two kinds of curries that it came with. When I was basically finished, Kumari commented that it isn’t good to eat from the hotel too often because the food isn’t always safe, and too much of it would disagree with the stomach. An hour later I had to use the bathroom, and again every hour on the hour for most of the night. I was miserable.
After dinner, between my trips to the restroom, I played that complicated number game in the boys’ room again (I wish they had a name for it so I can call it something other than “that number game”). They all take it so seriously, and I can’t help but thinking that we need cigars and glasses of whiskey to complete the picture.
I woke up super early this morning because the power had gone out and I was literally being steamed in my room. Also, I needed to use the bathroom. Waking up in India is the worst. Waking up in general is bad, be here it is terrible. When I wake up my pillow is soaked with sweat, which has also puddled into every indent in my body. My mouth is always incredibly dry and my lips sticky from dehydration, despite downing a bottle of water before going to bed. The humidity is its worse in the morning, and trying to convince yourself that moving is a good idea can be a battle that lasts over a half an hour. Speaking of sweat and dehydration, I drink five liters of water a day (no, I am not joking, it is kind of ridiculous). But looking at how much liquid leaves my system in any measurable way, you would think I hadn’t seen a cup of water in weeks. I must sweat literally four and a half liters of water. And by looking at my pillow in the morning, I guess I believe it.
We didn’t have electricity most of the morning, and a man came to the power lines outside our house and climbed right up the pole without a ladder or any rung type things. Without shoes, work gloves, or even a helmet, the man started fiddling with the wires. I gawked at how dangerous it was and made a comment about it. Kumari replied nonchalantly that last month the same man came here to work on the lines and got shocked and fell off the pole. But here he was today, still fearlessly doing his job.
Today I made the other poster for Kumari, and we talked and ate for a little bit. I tried napping outside where it is a little cooler, but tiny rain drops started falling, I thought they would feel refreshing, but instead the cold drops against my hot skin felt like needles, so I came back inside. After waking up so early, however, a nap is still in order.
Peace,
Robby
Prince and James patiently waiting and watching while some men fixed our rice grinder.
The crazy man that just shot up the electric pole without even thinking twice.
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