There are two long posts in very quick succession, and I blame this stupid software update. I was about 2/3 done downloading on Friday when we lost power and I wasn't able to get my post up in time. So today, I posted Friday's entry, and now I'm writing this one.
Yesterday was a big day for us at the center. We ran the final network cable, connecting the office computer to the rest. So now we can print from any computer in the center. I know this is not a big deal for most of my readers, but here it's huge. We're quite happy.
Overall it was a fairly weird day. I've taken to doing most of my work in one of the smaller, less used rooms of the center. The office gets crowded very quickly and there isn't much desk space, so I take my notebook and retreat to the psycho-social room down the hall (it has couches). I was there yesterday, trying to develop an IT curriculum for the young'uns (5-10 yrs) when Meg came tearing down the hall with a big grin on her face. She told me that she'd found out that B. is 20, and this means she has a younger brother (if you don't know Meg, this makes no sense and I'm not going to try to explain). I was skeptical. B. doesn't look old, maybe 25 or 27, but he certainly doesn't look 20. And if my Indian friends are any sort of guide, then he's probably older than he looks. Also, the office has taken to playing jokes on us.
So I told Meg that I was pretty sure she was wrong. In an effort to confirm her guess, she dragged B. back to me and asked him his age (apparently this is not impolite). "31." !? Whaaaa...? This guy is 31, and he has to sit and take lessons from 2 college girls? I have nothing but pity for him. He's been a great sport throughout, but I can't imagine he's got infinite patience for us.
To be fair, he doesn't act the way I would expect someone in his 30's to act. I don't know too many people of that age, but I know plenty of people who are mid-late 20's, and they act like B. So my guess was not totally unreasonable.
I have no idea how old B. thought we were. He asked me my age (like I said, apparently not impolite) and when I told him, his eyes bulged and he started laughing. I guess we look old here.
For the past 2 weeks or so, we've had about 16 guest counselors at the center. They're all about my age (I think...) and they do a lot of group activities with the kids. Games, sports, discussion...and dancing. There is a lot of dancing. Free form, rehearsed, with masks... It's really neat, and the children have a lot of fun. The conselors are also fairly good dancers, so when these dancing sessions occur, many of the staff will come out to watch, myself included.
Yesterday, after the age thing was sorted out, I was watching the dancing. I went to get lunch, and B. asked me if I liked to dance. I said that I did, but that I'm not good at it. I stressed that second point heavily. Well, after lunch, I was rushed by about 8 kids who all put in concerted efforts to drag me onto the dance floor. They were being encouraged by the guest counselors. I resisted mightily, but to no avail. So I eventually got dragged onto the floor, and the kids and counselors said they wanted to see me dance. I was almost ok with the idea of dancing with everyone else, in a group. But the music started and all the kids and counselors stayed seated against the wall. So they wanted me to dance. Alone. In front of them. Oh.
I didn't really have much choice. So I danced. Alone, in front of everyone. I think I'll try to avoid it in the future.
After a few minutes of dancing, I'd had about enough so I stopped. And then all the staff members, who'd just gotten the memo that the klutzy american girl was bustin' a move, ran out of their offices. There was a lot of encouragement for me to keep dancing. Nothin' doin' there, other than a few accusatory remarks directed towards B. about his involvement in the Hallie Dancing Conspiracy (he's denying everything and pretending he doesn't understand my English. riiiiiiight).
This Morning, or, Sri Lanka Health Education Needs Work
For the last week, I've seen Thushari performing tick checks on Malmi. I didn't think much of it, other than, "I didn't know there were ticks here."
This morning, as I was getting ready for work, Meg tramped into my room and ordered me to grab a comb and sit down. Apparently those tick checks were really lice removal expeditions. Not "checks", mind you, but actual efforts to eradicate organisms from Malmi's hair. Malmi and Harith both spend a fair amount of time in our room on our beds playing with the computers. And Thushari hadn't seen fit to mention that maybe we should be careful. It sounds like the myths about lice here are that they're not contagious, adults can't get them, and even if you are infected, don't worry about your clothes. The muttering that went on this morning... you can't imagine.
So Meg and I sat down to do lice checks. She found one on my head (f$%#&*@), as well as a few nits. I didn't find anything on her, but neither of us were really convinced that this meant anything. So we went to go find Thushari.
Meg had mentioned that the word "lice" doesn't really play a big role in the Sri Lankan English vocabulary, so we felt it would be necessary to present physical evidence of what we were talking about.
When we were doing the lice checks, we were faced with the problem of how to dispose of the critters without making the problem worse. Neither of us had any tape, but I mentioned that I had used the sticky side of Maxi Pads on ants with great success, and I had Maxi Pads in abundance.
Now I want you, the reader, to use your best imaginative skills to picture the following: Meg and I, in a part of the world where American girls are considered whores for using tampons, approach our... parent, for lack of a better word, with a Maxi Pad full of lice. Just think about it. The significance will hit you eventually.
Well. Party time. Thushari, fortunately, had some lice shampoo. Meg and I doused ourselves in some of the foulest smelling stuff since the Neutrogena T-Gel mess. Then we set about boiling our clothes.
And then I appreciated the full significance of the lack of water heater. Unfortunately, it wasn't until after both of my (white and eggshell) dress shirts got tie-dyed red. None of Thushari's clothes had ever been washed in hot water, and this included the threadbare red towel that bled all over my stuff. Tomorrow begins the Great Bleaching Project, with a possible encore supplied by the Dye The Damn Things Pink endeavor. And, because I'm trying to be courteous, this all has to be done without me swearing like a sailor.
Speaking of laundry. I cannot get my clothes clean. We have a washing machine, and I think the stains come out (I haven't had any to really test on), but my shirts in particular don't smell clean. I stress the smell. I really hope they have Febreze here.
The rest of the lice story is fairly boring. I called Ashan this morning to ask him to somehow find a lice comb. He's in the States right now, so I have no idea what time it was there (Ashan, I'm really sorry. Really). He told us that in a rural area like Hambantota, there's no stigma attached to getting lice, the way there is in the States. Good. After we washed the shampoo out of our hair, we went to work for a half day. We'll do some more checking over the next few days, because neither of us believe we've really solved the problem. Thushari said that many parents of lice-infected children won't actually do anything, so I can't image that Malmi won't be reinfected. School starts tomorrow, which will probably exacerbate the problem. <
Attn: Ex-HoTties
It is really amazing how easy it is to adopt a "hands-off" attitude when you don't have sufficient bandwidth to making checking the abtech inbox worthwhile. Amazing. I highly recommend it for all future Lame Ducks. Pure bliss.
Random
While I was at the Colombo airport waiting to be picked up, a couple of young kids started talking to me. They would ask me my name, and when I'd tell them, they'd run away laughing. That was the first time that I worried that my name met something in Sinhala. I didn't think any more of it until yesterday at work, when I got a new nickname: hali gemba. Or something close. It translates to "big frog." Hallie is "big". I don't know where the frog part came from. But now, I'm "Big Frog." I'm not too broken up about this. I like frogs. Even the biggest frogs are still small. And this nick name was derived from my name. I don't think it would have been created otherwise. Meg, on the other hand, is now "Elephant" and it has nothing to do with what her name sounds like. Nudge nudge wink wink say no more.
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