The last few days have been crazy, and life is going to stay that way until I get back home, I think. I'm with my parents now and we're up near Sigiriya, kicking around a bunch of ruins.
We spent the last few days at YEF doing serious work on the website. And then, on Saturday, I got up at 4 am and took a van to Colombo. I was going to meet my parents in Kandy. I took a bus to Kandy, and arrived at the hotel to the blissful realization that I have a room to myself for the first time in 9 weeks. Sri Lankans aren't really introverted -- they can't afford to be. Everyone lives too close together. I think I found the only other introvert in all of Sri Lanka.
Travelling with my parents is always an experience (heck, at this point, hot water is an experience. I love my showers now). They've hired a driver to take them around the country, and I think he has a crush on my mom. It's really funny. He won't really talk to me or my dad. I think he's afraid of us.
I come home in a little less than a week!!! It will be great, and I'm really excited. This may be my last post before I get home, so I'm sorry it's short. Anyway, this blog was created to cover my trip to and from Sri Lanka, so now that I'm pretty much done with that, I'm trying to figure out if I should keep up with my blog. The only reason I would is if other people still want to read it. So if you really care one way or another, let me know.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Still Alive
My parents made it to Colombo, finally, and we're all doing well.
Anyway, just a quick update while we register a domain for YEF/YPF.
We're back in Weligama until the end of the week, and we're doing website stuff. I hate webdev. HATE. But nevertheless, that's what's on the table. Oh well.
There's some stuff that doesn't go in the blog, and so you should all remind me to tell you what it is when I get back. The key words here are tea plantations and bollywood. Think of the possibilities.
Thursday was weird. My parents got in and we drove down with them. I had Indian curry for the first time since I got here, and ohmigod it was good. I miss Indian. My parents were staying in Galle, which is before Weligama, so Meg and I were all set to catch a bus for the rest of the trip. Only problem was that by the time we got to Galle, the busses had stopped running.
We spent the night in my parents' hotel, which was absolutely gorgeous. It had hot water and A/C, quite a nice change from the guest house. And coffee. Actual, honest-to-god coffee.
Friday we went back to Weligama, grabbed some clean clothes, and met B. and G. in Mirissa. They were in Matara with W. and A. for a conference, and through some nefarious method, they had managed to lose their supervisors and come find us. We rode to Hambantota with them, where we spent the weekend.
I spent all weekend doing webdev for CRC, and as a result I didn't sleep much. I had told B. that during school, I don't go to bed until about 2:30 and for some reason he thought this was a really *good* idea. I don't know why. So he has apparently been practicing going to bed at 2:30 and waking up at 6:30. He's dumb.
...Though I'll admit that I got about 4 hours of sleep total, all weekend.
I got a really nice surprise though. My parents were supposed to stay in Unawatuna for a few nights, but they got to the town, checked out their hotel, and decided they would be happier in Hambantota with me. I got a phone call on Saturday night, grabbed G. and B., and we all went out to dinner at my parents hotel. I wasn't sure how well my parents would get along with my colleagues, but things seemed to go well. At the very least, we were a one family comedy routine.
That night, both B. and I were up really late. I was doing website junk, and he was busy creating cards for a scholarship ceremony the next day. We were the only ones up, so I got to ask him all the cultural questions I've been hoarding.
High on my list is the fact that Sri Lankans don't make eye contact. I hadn't experienced this much, but I'd read about it, so I was curious as to the reason. It turns out that Sri Lankans look at each other's mouths when they speak, rather than their eyes. I like this system. I hate eye contact, but I can deal with mouths. I was quite happy to hear that I had no eye contact obligations in this country.
...Until we picked up this conversation again later, and B. told me that when he talks to me, he looks at my eyes instead of my mouth. Apparently he thinks they say different things. And you all wonder why I hate eye contact. And wear my hair in front of my face.
Sunday, Ashan showed up with 2 of his brothers for a scholarship ceremony and staff meetings. It all seemed to go very well. Then we all piled into his van and headed back to Weligama. We had a nice lunch with the boys and the Weligama crew at a guest house. We stopped into the office for a half day to work with YEF's tech guy on their website. We've been working ever since.
Anyway, just a quick update while we register a domain for YEF/YPF.
We're back in Weligama until the end of the week, and we're doing website stuff. I hate webdev. HATE. But nevertheless, that's what's on the table. Oh well.
There's some stuff that doesn't go in the blog, and so you should all remind me to tell you what it is when I get back. The key words here are tea plantations and bollywood. Think of the possibilities.
Thursday was weird. My parents got in and we drove down with them. I had Indian curry for the first time since I got here, and ohmigod it was good. I miss Indian. My parents were staying in Galle, which is before Weligama, so Meg and I were all set to catch a bus for the rest of the trip. Only problem was that by the time we got to Galle, the busses had stopped running.
We spent the night in my parents' hotel, which was absolutely gorgeous. It had hot water and A/C, quite a nice change from the guest house. And coffee. Actual, honest-to-god coffee.
Friday we went back to Weligama, grabbed some clean clothes, and met B. and G. in Mirissa. They were in Matara with W. and A. for a conference, and through some nefarious method, they had managed to lose their supervisors and come find us. We rode to Hambantota with them, where we spent the weekend.
I spent all weekend doing webdev for CRC, and as a result I didn't sleep much. I had told B. that during school, I don't go to bed until about 2:30 and for some reason he thought this was a really *good* idea. I don't know why. So he has apparently been practicing going to bed at 2:30 and waking up at 6:30. He's dumb.
...Though I'll admit that I got about 4 hours of sleep total, all weekend.
I got a really nice surprise though. My parents were supposed to stay in Unawatuna for a few nights, but they got to the town, checked out their hotel, and decided they would be happier in Hambantota with me. I got a phone call on Saturday night, grabbed G. and B., and we all went out to dinner at my parents hotel. I wasn't sure how well my parents would get along with my colleagues, but things seemed to go well. At the very least, we were a one family comedy routine.
That night, both B. and I were up really late. I was doing website junk, and he was busy creating cards for a scholarship ceremony the next day. We were the only ones up, so I got to ask him all the cultural questions I've been hoarding.
High on my list is the fact that Sri Lankans don't make eye contact. I hadn't experienced this much, but I'd read about it, so I was curious as to the reason. It turns out that Sri Lankans look at each other's mouths when they speak, rather than their eyes. I like this system. I hate eye contact, but I can deal with mouths. I was quite happy to hear that I had no eye contact obligations in this country.
...Until we picked up this conversation again later, and B. told me that when he talks to me, he looks at my eyes instead of my mouth. Apparently he thinks they say different things. And you all wonder why I hate eye contact. And wear my hair in front of my face.
Sunday, Ashan showed up with 2 of his brothers for a scholarship ceremony and staff meetings. It all seemed to go very well. Then we all piled into his van and headed back to Weligama. We had a nice lunch with the boys and the Weligama crew at a guest house. We stopped into the office for a half day to work with YEF's tech guy on their website. We've been working ever since.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Was it good for you too?
Well hmmm... My parents were supposed to arrive in Colombo tonight, but they're stuck in the Bombay airport for about 27 hours. I am not a fan of Bombay (Mumbai), having spent a few hours there myself. My mom called today to tell me what was going on. Apparently they weren't issued boarding passes and their plane left without them. They were then stuck in the transit lounge for 15 hours before they finally got bumped to a different lounge. They're #20 on the waiting list for the next flight to Colombo, and the airline is swearing up and down that they'll get my parents on that flight. Riiight.
...except that I sort of believe them, because I know my dad. And my dad is one of those people who becomes...unpleasant...when other people screw up and waste his time. Words are exchanged. Promises are made. People's mothers are insulted. Verbal violence becomes imminent. And at about this point, I usually leave the house, because I start to feel really bad for the phone company (it's usually the phone company. They're legendary. Although after last summer's A/C fiasco, Sears is a close second). Right, so my dad, slow motion powder keg that he is, is stuck in Bombay for 27 hours with no way to leave and no guarantee that he'll even be on the next flight. If I were in Bombay, I'd want him out of the country as soon as possible.*
The other big story is that I am also in Colombo. Meg and I are developing a web site for YEF and their tech guy works in Colombo during the week. We really need to work with him, so on Monday we packed up and went to Colombo. We leave for Weligama tomorrow, and then Friday we head off to Hambantota to hand over their website and their database. Party!
Meanwhile, heat is no good for laptops, and mine is no exception. I pulled it out last Sunday for work and I couldn't figure out why my case was suddenly warped. Until, that is, I turned the thing over and found the battery doing a good impression of a balloon. One of the l-ion packs seems to be in the process of exploding, and it's screwing up everything. So now I have no laptop battery.
We briefly encountered an Australian woman at our guest house, and she's into food in a big way. Tracy had dinner with us one night, and Meg sat in gaping awe as Tracy and I went back and forth describing our favorite foods from home. The memories of pesto and apple pie and spanakopita evoked emotions that I haven't felt in weeks. Something awoke inside of me...It was sort of like porn. "You guys sort of almost had a cigarette after." -Meg
Tracy headed off to Unawatuna on Monday morning, so that was the end of the food fetishism.
*Sorry Dad. It's not a bad thing. It just is.
...except that I sort of believe them, because I know my dad. And my dad is one of those people who becomes...unpleasant...when other people screw up and waste his time. Words are exchanged. Promises are made. People's mothers are insulted. Verbal violence becomes imminent. And at about this point, I usually leave the house, because I start to feel really bad for the phone company (it's usually the phone company. They're legendary. Although after last summer's A/C fiasco, Sears is a close second). Right, so my dad, slow motion powder keg that he is, is stuck in Bombay for 27 hours with no way to leave and no guarantee that he'll even be on the next flight. If I were in Bombay, I'd want him out of the country as soon as possible.*
The other big story is that I am also in Colombo. Meg and I are developing a web site for YEF and their tech guy works in Colombo during the week. We really need to work with him, so on Monday we packed up and went to Colombo. We leave for Weligama tomorrow, and then Friday we head off to Hambantota to hand over their website and their database. Party!
Meanwhile, heat is no good for laptops, and mine is no exception. I pulled it out last Sunday for work and I couldn't figure out why my case was suddenly warped. Until, that is, I turned the thing over and found the battery doing a good impression of a balloon. One of the l-ion packs seems to be in the process of exploding, and it's screwing up everything. So now I have no laptop battery.
We briefly encountered an Australian woman at our guest house, and she's into food in a big way. Tracy had dinner with us one night, and Meg sat in gaping awe as Tracy and I went back and forth describing our favorite foods from home. The memories of pesto and apple pie and spanakopita evoked emotions that I haven't felt in weeks. Something awoke inside of me...It was sort of like porn. "You guys sort of almost had a cigarette after." -Meg
Tracy headed off to Unawatuna on Monday morning, so that was the end of the food fetishism.
*Sorry Dad. It's not a bad thing. It just is.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
A begrudging thanks...
...to my old West Chester friends (who probably aren't reading this) for their LAN parties. I didn't think that computer games were life skills, but people are definitely impressed when a girl can show up and start shooting things.
Meg and I are in Hambantota now (again) for the weekend. We have some things we want to finish up and we miss our old friends (and the internet) and so yesterday we hopped on a bus and showed up here. We had given everyone a heads up that we were coming, and so B. decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to reformat and reinstall all the computers. They had viruses, and since Friday there are no classes at the centre, we had a lot of time to get things done and get them done right.
We arrived around lunch yesterday to find B. and D. standing in the door waiting for us. We grabbed a quick lunch of fruit salad and ramen (and yes, I ate some fruit salad. It had banana, mango, pineapple, and some other stuff. Mom and Dad, you should be *really* proud right now.) and then B. and I settled in to the task of fixing the computers.
This was a somewhat time consuming process because we only had 2 windows CDs, and the installation takes a good bit of time. Additionally, there were a few issues that needed to be resolved. So we were just settling down for a long night of computer stuff when Meg ran into the room to say that we had to leave right then for G.'s house, to visit her. So much for formatting. We visited G., and had a nice chat. Then Meg and D. went off to town to grab food, and B. and I started walking back towards the centre to finish up the work on the machines. We had plans to visit Thushari later that night, but we ran into her early. I had a lot of tea yesterday.
We finally made it back and did some computer work. This is the kind of work day that I really like. Two friends (Meg and D. were elsewhere, doing other things), no boss, just relaxed and fixing computers. It's great. The only thing that would have made it better was pizza.
Meg and D. returned from parts unknown with food. They persuaded us to take a break and watch a movie. We threw in "Constantine", which may have been a mistake. D. didn't like it, so she and Meg left, but B. and I were suitably amused for a few hours. After that, back to formatting.
Meg and D. were really tired at this point, and they went to bed. We all stayed at the centre that night, racked out on the floor. B. and I weren't done with our work, so we stayed up.
The problem with formatting computers is that it can't really be done in parallel without many CDs. So it takes a lot longer than it should because each machine has to be fixed one at a time. And for most of that time, the user isn't doing anything. Add flaky power to this equation (yes, we have UPS's, and a generator, and sometimes it's still not enough) and we had a long night of waiting ahead of us. Finally we were left with one troublesome machine, which I was working on. B. didn't have a whole lot to do, so he started trying to get a working install of Mobile Force. This is a first person shooter (FPS. you run around with a gun and kill people), and it's amusing if nothing else.
I fixed the last machine, and then I fixed the cracked version of Mobile Force (I'm pretty sure you can't actually buy legal software in Sri Lanka), and then we started to play. I hate FPS games because I'm terrible at them, but this went pretty well. There was a series of 8 single player missions, and B. decided that we should beat all of them before going to bed. At this point it was about 11:30, and we get up at 6. Why not?
We succeeded, but it took us a few hours. We went to bed at 2:30. And there is no coffee here. This morning was grim.
Internet is much less convenient in Mirissa than it was in Hambantota, so my posts and emails will be less frequent. I'll try not to get too far behind though.
On a completely unrelated note, I found out on Thursday that all forms of pornography are illegal in Sri Lanka. Now there's a concept. Dinesh said that it's definitely still around, and still a problem, which doesn't surprise me. This doesn't affect me in any measurable way, but it does strengthen my belief that although it would be fairly difficult for a Sri Lankan to offend an American, I could get myself shunned within about 3 sentences. Hrm. I continue to be careful. People don't even make dirty jokes here, as far as I can tell. Or maybe they do and I just can't understand the Sinhala.
I decided not to learn Sinhala before I came here, because I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it, and most people want to practice their english anyway. As it turns out, this was the right decision. I've come to the conclusion that it is pretty much impossible to learn spoken Sinhala from a book. The pronunciation is just too different. There are many consonant sounds that I miss entirely when I'm listening to Sinhala. But I am picking up the odd word here and there. I can really appreciate the effectiveness of language immersion courses.
At this point, my biggest obstacle in learning Sinhala is my French. I'll try to compose a sentence in Sinhala, and I'll end up with something French instead. A friend of mine described the same problem when he went to Scandanavia, so I know it's not just me. But it's weird. It also doesn't help that I found a French novel in the hotel and so I'm reading that to clear out some of the mental cobwebs. It's going better than I expected. But very, very slowly.
Meg and I are in Hambantota now (again) for the weekend. We have some things we want to finish up and we miss our old friends (and the internet) and so yesterday we hopped on a bus and showed up here. We had given everyone a heads up that we were coming, and so B. decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to reformat and reinstall all the computers. They had viruses, and since Friday there are no classes at the centre, we had a lot of time to get things done and get them done right.
We arrived around lunch yesterday to find B. and D. standing in the door waiting for us. We grabbed a quick lunch of fruit salad and ramen (and yes, I ate some fruit salad. It had banana, mango, pineapple, and some other stuff. Mom and Dad, you should be *really* proud right now.) and then B. and I settled in to the task of fixing the computers.
This was a somewhat time consuming process because we only had 2 windows CDs, and the installation takes a good bit of time. Additionally, there were a few issues that needed to be resolved. So we were just settling down for a long night of computer stuff when Meg ran into the room to say that we had to leave right then for G.'s house, to visit her. So much for formatting. We visited G., and had a nice chat. Then Meg and D. went off to town to grab food, and B. and I started walking back towards the centre to finish up the work on the machines. We had plans to visit Thushari later that night, but we ran into her early. I had a lot of tea yesterday.
We finally made it back and did some computer work. This is the kind of work day that I really like. Two friends (Meg and D. were elsewhere, doing other things), no boss, just relaxed and fixing computers. It's great. The only thing that would have made it better was pizza.
Meg and D. returned from parts unknown with food. They persuaded us to take a break and watch a movie. We threw in "Constantine", which may have been a mistake. D. didn't like it, so she and Meg left, but B. and I were suitably amused for a few hours. After that, back to formatting.
Meg and D. were really tired at this point, and they went to bed. We all stayed at the centre that night, racked out on the floor. B. and I weren't done with our work, so we stayed up.
The problem with formatting computers is that it can't really be done in parallel without many CDs. So it takes a lot longer than it should because each machine has to be fixed one at a time. And for most of that time, the user isn't doing anything. Add flaky power to this equation (yes, we have UPS's, and a generator, and sometimes it's still not enough) and we had a long night of waiting ahead of us. Finally we were left with one troublesome machine, which I was working on. B. didn't have a whole lot to do, so he started trying to get a working install of Mobile Force. This is a first person shooter (FPS. you run around with a gun and kill people), and it's amusing if nothing else.
I fixed the last machine, and then I fixed the cracked version of Mobile Force (I'm pretty sure you can't actually buy legal software in Sri Lanka), and then we started to play. I hate FPS games because I'm terrible at them, but this went pretty well. There was a series of 8 single player missions, and B. decided that we should beat all of them before going to bed. At this point it was about 11:30, and we get up at 6. Why not?
We succeeded, but it took us a few hours. We went to bed at 2:30. And there is no coffee here. This morning was grim.
Internet is much less convenient in Mirissa than it was in Hambantota, so my posts and emails will be less frequent. I'll try not to get too far behind though.
On a completely unrelated note, I found out on Thursday that all forms of pornography are illegal in Sri Lanka. Now there's a concept. Dinesh said that it's definitely still around, and still a problem, which doesn't surprise me. This doesn't affect me in any measurable way, but it does strengthen my belief that although it would be fairly difficult for a Sri Lankan to offend an American, I could get myself shunned within about 3 sentences. Hrm. I continue to be careful. People don't even make dirty jokes here, as far as I can tell. Or maybe they do and I just can't understand the Sinhala.
I decided not to learn Sinhala before I came here, because I was pretty sure I wouldn't need it, and most people want to practice their english anyway. As it turns out, this was the right decision. I've come to the conclusion that it is pretty much impossible to learn spoken Sinhala from a book. The pronunciation is just too different. There are many consonant sounds that I miss entirely when I'm listening to Sinhala. But I am picking up the odd word here and there. I can really appreciate the effectiveness of language immersion courses.
At this point, my biggest obstacle in learning Sinhala is my French. I'll try to compose a sentence in Sinhala, and I'll end up with something French instead. A friend of mine described the same problem when he went to Scandanavia, so I know it's not just me. But it's weird. It also doesn't help that I found a French novel in the hotel and so I'm reading that to clear out some of the mental cobwebs. It's going better than I expected. But very, very slowly.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
ZZZZT!
For a country that outlaws homosexuality, the guys here have eerily good taste in jewelry.
Saturday was my last day at the centre. After 6 weeks with my coworkers, I felt it was appropriate to come up with gifts, and so I spent a week drawing portraits of all the staff. Some came out better than others, but people seemed to like them. I hadn't expected the staff to come up with gifts for me, so I was floored when B. handed me what turned out to be a beautiful and funky necklace that I'll actually consider wearing. Meg got one too. They're small gifts, nothing too fancy, but he nailed my taste. I was amazed.
Many other staff members gave us small jewelry items as well. I think it's a hint. Meg and I don't wear much jewelry normally, and I didn't bring any beyond what I was wearing, so I was looking fairly unadorned for most of my stint in Hambantota.
M1 showed up to work to say that the children weren't coming because there was some large tsunami-related event going on that day. So nice of them to tell us. All the staff had already shown up to teach. It was ok though, because that meant we got to hang out with the staff more. The van to Weligama was supposed to arrive around noon, and then we would head to the Youth Environmental Foundation.
The van arrived. I won't get into the good byes, but they were rough. I'll really miss the folks at the centre.
Anyway, so the van showed up. I managed to drag myself into the office to meet my new group of coworkers, and ohmygod they're tall. I'm not even close to the tallest one anymore. I think that may have even been the first thing out of my mouth. Three guys, all about 5'10" or 6'. Good lord. They towered over all of us.
The guys were really nice. Their english was quite good, and they were very sympathetic to the fact that we weren't at our best. We piled into the van, swung by Thushari's house to grab her, the kids, and the grandmother, and set off. Thushari and the rest of the family were going to Matara for a school competition. Matara is right next to Mirissa, so they hitched a ride with us.
This brought the van population to 9 plus our luggage. I was crammed into the very back seat with Dinesh and a few bags. Dinesh is a college student and staff member at YEF, and his english is incredible. He's practically fluent. We spent a lot of time talking about YEF, my stay in Sri Lanka, and the States. Dinesh was (and continues to be) extremely curious about developed countries in general. He wanted pictures of everything (like nuclear power plants) and was dying to know how Americans were different from Sri Lankans.
About 45 minutes into the trip, we pulled over and stopped at a very odd stretch of land along the coast. The dirt was bright red, and almost no plants grew, save for some very small grass. Dinesh told me that this was a very famous beach because an asteroid struck. Hence the lack of plants and red soil. The beach itself was absolutely gorgeous. It was like something right out of a tour guide. I joked to Dinesh that all of my friends would be morbidly jealous, and it seems that this was the right thing to say. He is now obsessed with taking us places for the express purpose of luring all my friends to Sri Lanka. I tried to explain that you're all completely envious anyway, but my words fell on deaf ears.
The rest of the van ride was not particularly noteworthy. We dropped Thushari and the gang off in Matara and continued to Weligama and the office.
At this point, it was probably about 7pm or so, but it felt much later. The day had been exhausting. And when I walked in to meet the staff for the first time and saw no females, things got that much worse.
This requires background information. In the States, I am quite comfortable being a leader. People seem to fear me for some reason. They follow me. I am happy with that. But here, I don't speak the language, I'm female, and I'm foreign. I've gone from "tyrant" to "little sister." Hmph.
The staff were all quite nice. They're a really great group of young guys who put their heart and soul into the YEF. And they're very organized. It's actually wonderful. A consultant's dream come true. We met them, and then we went to our dwelling.
We are staying in a guest house, fairly close to the beach. It's like a tropical paradise. Palm trees are everywhere, as well as exotic flowers and animals (we found a scorpion yesterday). We have a room with a bed and a living area. The guest house overlooks a vegetable garden, and it's quiet and secluded. This is the off season, because of the monsoons, so we're the only ones staying here.
This is a huge change from Hambantota. Hambantota is in the dry zone, so there is very little rain and it's quite hot. It's also full of bugs. Mirissa is in the semi-monsoon zone, or something like that, so the temperature is much more reasonable, there's a lot of green, and there are very few mosquitos. We don't wear repellant here, and we don't sleep under mosquito netting. I love it.
That was all of Saturday. We crashed pretty hard, and then Sunday came.
We slept late Sunday morning, and we were still eating breakfast when Dinesh and Thusitha showed up to talk to us about the projects we would be doing. We hashed out a scope of work, and then they showed us the beach.
Mirissa is famous for its beaches, and with good reason. They're picturesque, very close, very clean, and very safe. The surf is calm and it stays shallow for a long time. I can tell we'll be spending a lot of time here. We went swimming later, and it was great. The water was warm, and it's one of the most pleasant beaches I've ever seen.
The really nice thing about staying in a tourist town is that the locals are fairly used to seeing white people. It's just not that uncommon. So although we still get honks and waves, it's not nearly as bad as it was in Hambantota. On the other hand, people here have learned that tourists will give out "bon-bons" if they ask, so we get requests from the kids.
Monday was a holiday, so we didn't go into the office. A good thing too. Meg got sick again, most likely because of the food. Fortunately, it wasn't serious and she was better later that day.
While Meg was curled up in bed, Dinesh and Harshana, the IT guy, showed up to talk about the web page. This was a bit frustrating. Harshana goes to college in Colombo, so he's only around on weekends, which is when we have our days off. But he really wants to work with us, both to practice his english and to learn from us. So our weekends are now Friday and Saturday.
Tuesday was our first actual day in the office. We arrived around 9 and immediately Dinesh set us up with a bunch of informational videos about YEF. It was a big help. YEF is basically a very organized network of volunteers who take on really ambitious projects, such as building relief housing for tsunami victims. And there's no website because we haven't developed it yet. But once it's done, we'll let you know.
The thing that really stands out about this staff is that they're super organized and really eager to help us get things done. I love it. I think this will go really well.
As previously mentioned, the staff is very intent on learning english. Although about half the staff can speak quite well, almost fluently, they're all dying to learn more, to the point where they want formal english lessons from us. We started out today with "favorites" and then moved on to slang, idioms, and finally epithets. What started out as a simple lesson in color ended with the staff members all cursing at each other in english and laughing until their sides ached. Dinesh told me later that it was the most fun he'd ever had at work.
Manoj, the executive director, was also hanging around for this. I was concerned about introducing this sort of material into any class (it was all Meg's idea), and when Manoj walked in, I figured I'd be on the next plane back to the States. But when he realized what we were doing, he sat down. Then he asked for a notebook. In fact, all of the staff were taking copious notes.
The last couple nights, the CRC people have been calling us. They want to know how we're doing, and they want to make sure we're ok. As far as I can tell, everyone in Sri Lanka is quite confident in their ability to host foreigners, but they don't trust anyone else to do it right. So there are many questions about how the food is, how the room is, if we're doing alright... it's really sweet.
And now for something completely different. Power has been a recurring issue for us all through this trip. For starters, Sri Lanka uses 2 different kinds of plugs. I'm not sure why; maybe there's an amperage difference or something. But it means we're always scrounging for connectors. And there just isn't the same amount of electronic support. There's usually 1 outlet per room. Only 1 socket. This put a strain on our laptops.
We bought what seemed to be a really nifty power strip. It can take any plug format, and each socket is individually switched. Then one day I plugged in my laptop. There was a spark, and the socket went dead. We pulled the strip apart to find some of the worst craftsmanship and soldering I've seen in a long time. We managed to fix the thing, but it wasn't pretty.
A few days later, Meg's laptop power supply died. There are 2 parts: the brick and the cable, and she wasn't sure which one was faulty. She decided to test by plugging in the cable and...can you guess? Because it was pretty dumb. She stuck a pair of scissors into the bare plug. She wanted to see if it sparked. Well it did. It also fused the scissors to the cable and tripped the circuit breaker on the room.
And then last night, there was a spark, and Meg found a break in the wire. So she cut off the offending cable and spliced the rest back. This seemed to work, until I got woken up very early this morning to hear Meg tell me that she'd just electrocuted herself on my laptop, and we had no power. ARRRGGHH!
The lack of power was the more worrying issue at that point. No power means no fans. We can't open the windows at night because the bugs will fly in, so we rely quite heavily on the fans to keep the room livable. Within minutes, it was stifling and miserably humid. And all the bugs came back anyway.
I tried to sleep, and Meg was wreaking general havoc trying to get the power back. The breakers were all fine, and so there wasn't much she could do. She contented herself with shining her LED flashlight in my eyes.
The power returned after some good while. Meg electrocuted herself again, and then it was shown that by wiggling the power strip, we can flicker the power in the room. I have some not-so-nice words for any ECE folk who didn't teach her enough to make this work. I am grumpy this morning. I am also not going within 10 feet of her power strip. There are enough outlets in the room that I don't need to.
We're going back to Hambantota this weekend. Partially, we want to hand over a database, but also we just want to see friends. I hear that W. has been asking after us a lot, and he wants to know why we haven't called the centre yet. So we'll do that today.
Saturday was my last day at the centre. After 6 weeks with my coworkers, I felt it was appropriate to come up with gifts, and so I spent a week drawing portraits of all the staff. Some came out better than others, but people seemed to like them. I hadn't expected the staff to come up with gifts for me, so I was floored when B. handed me what turned out to be a beautiful and funky necklace that I'll actually consider wearing. Meg got one too. They're small gifts, nothing too fancy, but he nailed my taste. I was amazed.
Many other staff members gave us small jewelry items as well. I think it's a hint. Meg and I don't wear much jewelry normally, and I didn't bring any beyond what I was wearing, so I was looking fairly unadorned for most of my stint in Hambantota.
M1 showed up to work to say that the children weren't coming because there was some large tsunami-related event going on that day. So nice of them to tell us. All the staff had already shown up to teach. It was ok though, because that meant we got to hang out with the staff more. The van to Weligama was supposed to arrive around noon, and then we would head to the Youth Environmental Foundation.
The van arrived. I won't get into the good byes, but they were rough. I'll really miss the folks at the centre.
Anyway, so the van showed up. I managed to drag myself into the office to meet my new group of coworkers, and ohmygod they're tall. I'm not even close to the tallest one anymore. I think that may have even been the first thing out of my mouth. Three guys, all about 5'10" or 6'. Good lord. They towered over all of us.
The guys were really nice. Their english was quite good, and they were very sympathetic to the fact that we weren't at our best. We piled into the van, swung by Thushari's house to grab her, the kids, and the grandmother, and set off. Thushari and the rest of the family were going to Matara for a school competition. Matara is right next to Mirissa, so they hitched a ride with us.
This brought the van population to 9 plus our luggage. I was crammed into the very back seat with Dinesh and a few bags. Dinesh is a college student and staff member at YEF, and his english is incredible. He's practically fluent. We spent a lot of time talking about YEF, my stay in Sri Lanka, and the States. Dinesh was (and continues to be) extremely curious about developed countries in general. He wanted pictures of everything (like nuclear power plants) and was dying to know how Americans were different from Sri Lankans.
About 45 minutes into the trip, we pulled over and stopped at a very odd stretch of land along the coast. The dirt was bright red, and almost no plants grew, save for some very small grass. Dinesh told me that this was a very famous beach because an asteroid struck. Hence the lack of plants and red soil. The beach itself was absolutely gorgeous. It was like something right out of a tour guide. I joked to Dinesh that all of my friends would be morbidly jealous, and it seems that this was the right thing to say. He is now obsessed with taking us places for the express purpose of luring all my friends to Sri Lanka. I tried to explain that you're all completely envious anyway, but my words fell on deaf ears.
The rest of the van ride was not particularly noteworthy. We dropped Thushari and the gang off in Matara and continued to Weligama and the office.
At this point, it was probably about 7pm or so, but it felt much later. The day had been exhausting. And when I walked in to meet the staff for the first time and saw no females, things got that much worse.
This requires background information. In the States, I am quite comfortable being a leader. People seem to fear me for some reason. They follow me. I am happy with that. But here, I don't speak the language, I'm female, and I'm foreign. I've gone from "tyrant" to "little sister." Hmph.
The staff were all quite nice. They're a really great group of young guys who put their heart and soul into the YEF. And they're very organized. It's actually wonderful. A consultant's dream come true. We met them, and then we went to our dwelling.
We are staying in a guest house, fairly close to the beach. It's like a tropical paradise. Palm trees are everywhere, as well as exotic flowers and animals (we found a scorpion yesterday). We have a room with a bed and a living area. The guest house overlooks a vegetable garden, and it's quiet and secluded. This is the off season, because of the monsoons, so we're the only ones staying here.
This is a huge change from Hambantota. Hambantota is in the dry zone, so there is very little rain and it's quite hot. It's also full of bugs. Mirissa is in the semi-monsoon zone, or something like that, so the temperature is much more reasonable, there's a lot of green, and there are very few mosquitos. We don't wear repellant here, and we don't sleep under mosquito netting. I love it.
That was all of Saturday. We crashed pretty hard, and then Sunday came.
We slept late Sunday morning, and we were still eating breakfast when Dinesh and Thusitha showed up to talk to us about the projects we would be doing. We hashed out a scope of work, and then they showed us the beach.
Mirissa is famous for its beaches, and with good reason. They're picturesque, very close, very clean, and very safe. The surf is calm and it stays shallow for a long time. I can tell we'll be spending a lot of time here. We went swimming later, and it was great. The water was warm, and it's one of the most pleasant beaches I've ever seen.
The really nice thing about staying in a tourist town is that the locals are fairly used to seeing white people. It's just not that uncommon. So although we still get honks and waves, it's not nearly as bad as it was in Hambantota. On the other hand, people here have learned that tourists will give out "bon-bons" if they ask, so we get requests from the kids.
Monday was a holiday, so we didn't go into the office. A good thing too. Meg got sick again, most likely because of the food. Fortunately, it wasn't serious and she was better later that day.
While Meg was curled up in bed, Dinesh and Harshana, the IT guy, showed up to talk about the web page. This was a bit frustrating. Harshana goes to college in Colombo, so he's only around on weekends, which is when we have our days off. But he really wants to work with us, both to practice his english and to learn from us. So our weekends are now Friday and Saturday.
Tuesday was our first actual day in the office. We arrived around 9 and immediately Dinesh set us up with a bunch of informational videos about YEF. It was a big help. YEF is basically a very organized network of volunteers who take on really ambitious projects, such as building relief housing for tsunami victims. And there's no website because we haven't developed it yet. But once it's done, we'll let you know.
The thing that really stands out about this staff is that they're super organized and really eager to help us get things done. I love it. I think this will go really well.
As previously mentioned, the staff is very intent on learning english. Although about half the staff can speak quite well, almost fluently, they're all dying to learn more, to the point where they want formal english lessons from us. We started out today with "favorites" and then moved on to slang, idioms, and finally epithets. What started out as a simple lesson in color ended with the staff members all cursing at each other in english and laughing until their sides ached. Dinesh told me later that it was the most fun he'd ever had at work.
Manoj, the executive director, was also hanging around for this. I was concerned about introducing this sort of material into any class (it was all Meg's idea), and when Manoj walked in, I figured I'd be on the next plane back to the States. But when he realized what we were doing, he sat down. Then he asked for a notebook. In fact, all of the staff were taking copious notes.
The last couple nights, the CRC people have been calling us. They want to know how we're doing, and they want to make sure we're ok. As far as I can tell, everyone in Sri Lanka is quite confident in their ability to host foreigners, but they don't trust anyone else to do it right. So there are many questions about how the food is, how the room is, if we're doing alright... it's really sweet.
And now for something completely different. Power has been a recurring issue for us all through this trip. For starters, Sri Lanka uses 2 different kinds of plugs. I'm not sure why; maybe there's an amperage difference or something. But it means we're always scrounging for connectors. And there just isn't the same amount of electronic support. There's usually 1 outlet per room. Only 1 socket. This put a strain on our laptops.
We bought what seemed to be a really nifty power strip. It can take any plug format, and each socket is individually switched. Then one day I plugged in my laptop. There was a spark, and the socket went dead. We pulled the strip apart to find some of the worst craftsmanship and soldering I've seen in a long time. We managed to fix the thing, but it wasn't pretty.
A few days later, Meg's laptop power supply died. There are 2 parts: the brick and the cable, and she wasn't sure which one was faulty. She decided to test by plugging in the cable and...can you guess? Because it was pretty dumb. She stuck a pair of scissors into the bare plug. She wanted to see if it sparked. Well it did. It also fused the scissors to the cable and tripped the circuit breaker on the room.
And then last night, there was a spark, and Meg found a break in the wire. So she cut off the offending cable and spliced the rest back. This seemed to work, until I got woken up very early this morning to hear Meg tell me that she'd just electrocuted herself on my laptop, and we had no power. ARRRGGHH!
The lack of power was the more worrying issue at that point. No power means no fans. We can't open the windows at night because the bugs will fly in, so we rely quite heavily on the fans to keep the room livable. Within minutes, it was stifling and miserably humid. And all the bugs came back anyway.
I tried to sleep, and Meg was wreaking general havoc trying to get the power back. The breakers were all fine, and so there wasn't much she could do. She contented herself with shining her LED flashlight in my eyes.
The power returned after some good while. Meg electrocuted herself again, and then it was shown that by wiggling the power strip, we can flicker the power in the room. I have some not-so-nice words for any ECE folk who didn't teach her enough to make this work. I am grumpy this morning. I am also not going within 10 feet of her power strip. There are enough outlets in the room that I don't need to.
We're going back to Hambantota this weekend. Partially, we want to hand over a database, but also we just want to see friends. I hear that W. has been asking after us a lot, and he wants to know why we haven't called the centre yet. So we'll do that today.
Friday, July 07, 2006
I think she's trying to tell us something
My parents (
Date: Saturday, August 12 (if the 12 is not a Saturday, it's still Saturday)
Event:
Location: Hallie's House
Call: no
Show: TBA - afternoon sometime
Strike: no
Equipment: food, people, pool
TIC: hparry, hparry.parents
If you're interested, please email me (hparry@andrew.cmu.edu) so I can figure out how much food to make. There is probably some floor space if people are coming from parts far away (or just bring a tent and camp out in the back yard :) ). I can supply all directions, addresses, and other necessary info by email.
I'll be arriving home on August 6 or 7, so at that point I can start talking to people via phone and zephyr again.
party
animals that they are) think it would be really fun to have a "Welcome Back"party
when I get home, and I tend to agree. And P.S. all my friends are invited. Here's the rundown:Date: Saturday, August 12 (if the 12 is not a Saturday, it's still Saturday)
Event:
Party!
Location: Hallie's House
Call: no
Show: TBA - afternoon sometime
Strike: no
Equipment: food, people, pool
TIC: hparry, hparry.parents
If you're interested, please email me (hparry@andrew.cmu.edu) so I can figure out how much food to make. There is probably some floor space if people are coming from parts far away (or just bring a tent and camp out in the back yard :) ). I can supply all directions, addresses, and other necessary info by email.
I'll be arriving home on August 6 or 7, so at that point I can start talking to people via phone and zephyr again.
Bye Bye Bitter
If you've practiced enough, you can spot a CMU student from 50 feet. You just look for the bitter cloud hanging around them. As a rule, we tend to get really fed up with things that waste our time, and when we put time and effort into something, we expect big payouts. This leads to a lot of disappointment, and subsequently, an attitude problem worthy of Joe Pesci on steroids (remember the SNL skits? the really old ones? good.).
So the CMU types among you can imagine my surprise when we drove an hour to the hot springs to stay 20 minutes, and then an hour to Kataragama today to stay for about 20 in the temple, and another 30 minutes kicking around town. And the weirdest thing was, no one seemed to mind. Nobody thought this was a waste of time, or a morning ill-spent, or anything like that. I thought they'd all gone mad.
And then I got really jealous. Because they've got the time to travel 2 hours just for 20 minutes of amusement. Life is just that relaxed here. And I noticed today that I'm a lot less irritable and bitter than I was when I left CMU. It's just not worth it. I might get aggravated for an hour or two, but that's the end of it. Before I left, one of my friends predicted: "You will be so chill when you come back." I think I owe him 10 bucks now.
So Kataragama. Kataragama is town with a very noteworthy temple. And to get there, we travelled an hour each way with D. (the cook/housekeeper at the center) and her son. D. doesn't speak much English, but she's a lot of fun to be around, and she and Meg have really bonded.
I haven't been to too many temples here, but Kataragama is definitely in a class by itself. The site isn't a temple so much as a very benevolent compound. Visitors go in a gate at the entrance and are immediately surrounded by plants and statues of elephants and lions. There are various religious buildings with Hindu and Buddhist figures in them, and lots of plants. It's almost like a park, or a greenhouse exhibit.
We walked around for a bit (not long) and then wandered back into the town, stopping first at a small shop for a snack. I'm really liking the heat now. Walking was a little tough in the sun, but really it wasn't bad.
We caught the bus home, and that was pretty much the end of the trip. And it was a great trip. I had a lot of fun and though I wouldn't have minded spending more time at the temple, it was very satisfying.
Tomorrow is our true last day at the center. We're going in for half a day and then leaving at noon for Weligama. I learned of our plans this afternoon, and immediately hit the Packing Funk.
I don't like packing. I'm not convinced that anyone really does, but for me, it's like torture by tedium. And so whenever I have to pack for anything, I hit a sort of Zeno's paradox along the way. I'll get half way done and then I'll be suitably irritated that I'll take a break. I'll return and get half of the remaining task done, and then a good song will come on and I'll have to stop and air guitar for a while. Or the cat will come in and knock over my piles. Or I'll decide that now, right now is really the best time to sort my [collection of over 10,000] Magic cards. Maybe my ex from 5 years ago really didn't get what he deserved and his day of reckoning has come. Who knows. The point is, packing takes forever, and the whole time I am absolutely miserable.
So right now, for example, the packing is about 3/4 done, and I'm here typing my blog. And when I go back home, I'll draw some portraits for Thushari and her family as a good bye present. And then I'll probably think about packing the rest and decide it can be done tomorrow, before work. Fortunately, I don't have too much to pack.
This post really lacks in the comic relief department, so I'm going to talk about Zeno's Paradox some more, because it holds sentimental value to me.
Back when I was about 10, maybe 4th grade or so, my dad told me about this guy Zeno, and his little theory that you can't walk across a room (because first you'll have to walk half way, and then half of the remaining distance, and then half of that, etc...). This is quite a piece of knowledge for a 10 year old. It took me a little while to get my head around the idea of paradox. Longer, unfortunately, than it did for me to run into class the next day and excitedly tell my teacher that I couldn't get across the room. And then, I couldn't remember why. I couldn't remember what the paradox was. And my teacher had apparently never heard of it. I have never quite forgiven the educational system for hiring a 4th grade teacher who has no knowledge of arcane, useless bits of incorrect mathematical and philosophical theory. I mean, really.
I've since had time to reflect upon the whole incident. I feel like I had a really powerful weapon there, just for a little while, and I wish I'd known how to use it. So clearly, I must find a suitable 10 year old through which I can live vicariously. I'll teach him all the random junk I know and turn him into a philosophical terror.
"Clean your room."
"I can't get there."
...and so on. His crippling, yet innocent intellect will wreak havoc on all who dare stand in his path. He will rule legions of playground armies. And then I will never babysit for this child.
I really miss Pinky and the Brain. Because now I have to come up with these schemes on my own, just to amuse myself.
So the CMU types among you can imagine my surprise when we drove an hour to the hot springs to stay 20 minutes, and then an hour to Kataragama today to stay for about 20 in the temple, and another 30 minutes kicking around town. And the weirdest thing was, no one seemed to mind. Nobody thought this was a waste of time, or a morning ill-spent, or anything like that. I thought they'd all gone mad.
And then I got really jealous. Because they've got the time to travel 2 hours just for 20 minutes of amusement. Life is just that relaxed here. And I noticed today that I'm a lot less irritable and bitter than I was when I left CMU. It's just not worth it. I might get aggravated for an hour or two, but that's the end of it. Before I left, one of my friends predicted: "You will be so chill when you come back." I think I owe him 10 bucks now.
So Kataragama. Kataragama is town with a very noteworthy temple. And to get there, we travelled an hour each way with D. (the cook/housekeeper at the center) and her son. D. doesn't speak much English, but she's a lot of fun to be around, and she and Meg have really bonded.
I haven't been to too many temples here, but Kataragama is definitely in a class by itself. The site isn't a temple so much as a very benevolent compound. Visitors go in a gate at the entrance and are immediately surrounded by plants and statues of elephants and lions. There are various religious buildings with Hindu and Buddhist figures in them, and lots of plants. It's almost like a park, or a greenhouse exhibit.
We walked around for a bit (not long) and then wandered back into the town, stopping first at a small shop for a snack. I'm really liking the heat now. Walking was a little tough in the sun, but really it wasn't bad.
We caught the bus home, and that was pretty much the end of the trip. And it was a great trip. I had a lot of fun and though I wouldn't have minded spending more time at the temple, it was very satisfying.
Tomorrow is our true last day at the center. We're going in for half a day and then leaving at noon for Weligama. I learned of our plans this afternoon, and immediately hit the Packing Funk.
The Packing Funk
I don't like packing. I'm not convinced that anyone really does, but for me, it's like torture by tedium. And so whenever I have to pack for anything, I hit a sort of Zeno's paradox along the way. I'll get half way done and then I'll be suitably irritated that I'll take a break. I'll return and get half of the remaining task done, and then a good song will come on and I'll have to stop and air guitar for a while. Or the cat will come in and knock over my piles. Or I'll decide that now, right now is really the best time to sort my [collection of over 10,000] Magic cards. Maybe my ex from 5 years ago really didn't get what he deserved and his day of reckoning has come. Who knows. The point is, packing takes forever, and the whole time I am absolutely miserable.
So right now, for example, the packing is about 3/4 done, and I'm here typing my blog. And when I go back home, I'll draw some portraits for Thushari and her family as a good bye present. And then I'll probably think about packing the rest and decide it can be done tomorrow, before work. Fortunately, I don't have too much to pack.
This post really lacks in the comic relief department, so I'm going to talk about Zeno's Paradox some more, because it holds sentimental value to me.
Back when I was about 10, maybe 4th grade or so, my dad told me about this guy Zeno, and his little theory that you can't walk across a room (because first you'll have to walk half way, and then half of the remaining distance, and then half of that, etc...). This is quite a piece of knowledge for a 10 year old. It took me a little while to get my head around the idea of paradox. Longer, unfortunately, than it did for me to run into class the next day and excitedly tell my teacher that I couldn't get across the room. And then, I couldn't remember why. I couldn't remember what the paradox was. And my teacher had apparently never heard of it. I have never quite forgiven the educational system for hiring a 4th grade teacher who has no knowledge of arcane, useless bits of incorrect mathematical and philosophical theory. I mean, really.
I've since had time to reflect upon the whole incident. I feel like I had a really powerful weapon there, just for a little while, and I wish I'd known how to use it. So clearly, I must find a suitable 10 year old through which I can live vicariously. I'll teach him all the random junk I know and turn him into a philosophical terror.
"Clean your room."
"I can't get there."
...and so on. His crippling, yet innocent intellect will wreak havoc on all who dare stand in his path. He will rule legions of playground armies. And then I will never babysit for this child.
I really miss Pinky and the Brain. Because now I have to come up with these schemes on my own, just to amuse myself.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Happy F&*#$ing 4th
First of all, I want to thank everyone who's reading my blog and especially those who leave comments. I can't respond to every single one, and I feel terrible, but you have no idea how great it is to hear from friends at home. I haven't been able to make international calls, so this and email are the only communication methods I have, and I really miss you guys!
Now, back to the good stuff, and the explanation of the really bitter title.
I miss home in general, but there aren't too many actual events that I was sorry to skip. Mostly this is because I very craftily avoided looking at concert listings. So really, the only big thing is the 4th of July. And I love the 4th. I love the food, I love the fireworks, and it's usually a pretty good excuse to see friends that I don't see often (or at least, often over the summer). I decided then, that I would have a small celebration here. Nothing fancy, nothing big, maybe just burning some brush. If marshmallows happened to appear, so much the better. I didn't even allow the thought of burgers to cross my mind.
I figured this wasn't too much to ask.
...so if someone would like to explain what wires got crossed which resulted in me getting food poisoning instead, I'd really love to know. God, that was a miserable day. Meg and I both got really really sick. All day. If you've ever had food poisoning, well, you know. And if you haven't, ignorance is bliss.
Popular opinion (guidebooks, friends, family, and doctor) suggested that I would, at some point, get sick here. Fortunately, my doctor gave me some contingency meds, and I was able to drag myself into work for a half day. This proved to be singularly unproductive since I fell asleep almost immediately upon arrival, but it did serve to get me out of the house and out of the sick room, where Meg was not faring quite so well.
Here, I must digress to remind the Stateside audience of some definitively American aspects of getting sick. The first is that food poisoning doesn't rank high on my list of serious illnesses. This probably isn't a universally American sentiment; it's just me being stubborn. But still... fever and nausea warrant at least 24 hours of study before I'm willing to seriously consider a doctor. This is largely because of American hospitals: the thought of spending 3 or 4 hours in a waiting room while I'm sick makes me feel even worse. So although I was entirely prepared to surrender multiple unborn children to whatever heathen gods would heal me, I was quite definitely against any and all efforts to take me to a physician. Now, back to reality...
As I said, I made it to work. I spent most of the afternoon curled up with my laptop, and I think I was productive for about 15 minutes. Part of the reason I went in the first place was to explain what had happened; our cell phone wasn't working and neither was the landline, so we had no way to get in touch with the center and let them know what was wrong.
And here is where that paragraph about American hospitals becomes important. Sri Lankans really like to help each other and visitors, and my coworkers were quite concerned that Meg and I were sick. B. walked me home, both to make sure I actually made it and to check on Meg.
Meg was, to put it lightly, not looking so great. And B. saw this, and immediately called W., who showed up 5 minutes later. Neither Meg nor I thought this was necessary, and I can't say I'd be thrilled if my boss showed up at my house while I was sick, but it was quite nice of him. More phone calls were made, all in Sinhala, and G. arrived as well. The point being that I couldn't protest at all, because I didn't know what was going on. This was probably for the best. We didn't know we were going to a doctor until the three-wheeler showed up. Otherwise, we would have dug our feet in a lot more- AUUGGHGHH! Feedback! There is a telecast going on in the next room and they've managed to ring on pretty much every frequency. It's like they're pink noising in really slo-o-o-o-o-w motion. I feel like Odysseus chained to the ship mast listening to the sirens sing, because I really want to run over and fix this.
Ok. So kicking and screaming (read: gurgling and wiggling a toe or two) we went to the doctor, which turned out to be pretty painless. We had to wait about 30 minutes, and we were able to sit in the three-wheeler outside, which was nice. The doctor sat us both down at once, listened to our symptoms, pronouced that we had food poisoning, and gave us some meds. I think the whole bill for both of us, medicine included, was $3.50.
We took the meds and now we're doing much better, and I can actually eat again. It is great. And that was my 4th of July.
At this point, those of you who know my work schedule are probably wondering what happened to Monday, my day off. I saved it, so I could end this post on a happier note.
G., the financial director, only works weekends, because during the week she is 3 hours away at college. This week, however, her grandmother was sick and the center was being audited (by Ernst & Young) so she stayed in town. The audit was Monday morning, and we wanted to see her afterwards, because she's really nice and a lot of fun to hang out with.
We all grabbed lunch at the Double N (don't eat here. food poisoning. bad.) and then G. rounded up her younger brother and 3 of his friends and we headed off to the hot springs. I was mystified as to why on earth 4 19 year old guys would want to drive their sister's friends around, but I gather there isn't really much to do in this town, even if you are Sri Lankan, so maybe they were bored.
We set out in a van for the hot springs, which were about an hour away. Very quickly, paved roads became just a memory, and we were on dirt. G. was quick to mention that all the dirt roads were government roads. I don't think she was joking. The van ride in itself was great fun. We went through the countryside and we saw peacocks, cows, buffalo, and the tree houses.
The tree houses aren't what you think. Here's how it works. Farmers have crops. Lots of them. Green, leafy things. One might even say elephant food. The elephants certainly do. And from a structural standpoint, there's not much a farmer can do to stop the elephants. Certainly not without wrecking his irrigation system, and not for a small enough amount of money that it's affordable (calling all mechE's... calling all mechE's....). So instead, the farmers build small huts in the trees that dot their fields. They sleep in the trees and when the elephants come, the farmers try to scare them away. Wow.
We arrived at the hot springs, which were a bit anticlimatic. You don't sit in them. You get a bucket and pour the water on top of yourself. But they were beautiful, and I have some neat photos for when I get home.
So then we drove around. We went to G.'s uncle's house and hung out for a bit, and we saw elephants at the garbage dump again, and we dropped people off and went home. It was a lot of fun. The boys, once they decided to talk, had a great time teaching us how to swear in Sinhala. One of them decided that Meg was a turtle, and I'm a fox. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the American connotations of that word, especially since he said I looked 55 when he first met me. Little whippersnapper. My mom doesn't even look 55. I valiantly resisted the urge to bludgeon him with my walker.
Speaking of my parents, it just hit me yesterday that they're arriving in about a week or so. I can't wait!
Tomorrow is our next day off, and we're spending the morning in Kataragama, at the temple I think. The temple in Kataragama is significant because it is open to Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, and Christians. We're going with some people from work, and I think it will be a great time. After that, M2 is coming over to hang out. Maybe we'll dance some more.
Today (because I don't think in linear time) I was all set to get cracking on the website for the center, and I was doing pretty well right up until the point when W. told me that B. had called him. B. was running late with some personal matter, and he wanted me to teach his computer class. I was pretty sure this was all a joke, until it was time for class to start and there was no sign of B.
There was nothing for it. I grabbed G. to translate for me and started to teach computer skills to a group of Sri Lankan kids. Other than the language barrier, this wasn't actually too hard. I've spent a lot of time watching B. teach his class because of my role in curriculum development. I also wrote the lesson plan for today's lecture, so it's not like I didn't know the material. The problem is that with only 5 computers and 15 students, chaos is inevitable (hey you physics people, quit your mumbling. I can hear you). And I couldn't really say anything useful. Fortunately, G. was there to help with crowd control. Thank heavens. B. didn't ever make it in to work, so I taught all 3 sections, with G. by my side. Fun day.
The only reason that this bothers me at all is that it was supposed to be my last day at work, and B. is probably my closest friend there. As it turns out, I'll show up Saturday morning, so I'll get one last chance to say good bye to everyone.
The working theory is that Saturday, Meg and I will leave for Weligama. As some spam email once so wisely said, "In theory, theory and practice are the same. In practice, they're not." I asked W. today what time we're supposed to leave, and he told me we'd discuss it on Saturday. Ok then. I just go where people tell me to, and it's quite nice. I left my inner control freak in the States (for the most part). So maybe I'll go to Weligama on Saturday. Maybe Sunday. Maybe not at all. I am quite content with all of those options.
Now, back to the good stuff, and the explanation of the really bitter title.
I miss home in general, but there aren't too many actual events that I was sorry to skip. Mostly this is because I very craftily avoided looking at concert listings. So really, the only big thing is the 4th of July. And I love the 4th. I love the food, I love the fireworks, and it's usually a pretty good excuse to see friends that I don't see often (or at least, often over the summer). I decided then, that I would have a small celebration here. Nothing fancy, nothing big, maybe just burning some brush. If marshmallows happened to appear, so much the better. I didn't even allow the thought of burgers to cross my mind.
I figured this wasn't too much to ask.
...so if someone would like to explain what wires got crossed which resulted in me getting food poisoning instead, I'd really love to know. God, that was a miserable day. Meg and I both got really really sick. All day. If you've ever had food poisoning, well, you know. And if you haven't, ignorance is bliss.
Popular opinion (guidebooks, friends, family, and doctor) suggested that I would, at some point, get sick here. Fortunately, my doctor gave me some contingency meds, and I was able to drag myself into work for a half day. This proved to be singularly unproductive since I fell asleep almost immediately upon arrival, but it did serve to get me out of the house and out of the sick room, where Meg was not faring quite so well.
Here, I must digress to remind the Stateside audience of some definitively American aspects of getting sick. The first is that food poisoning doesn't rank high on my list of serious illnesses. This probably isn't a universally American sentiment; it's just me being stubborn. But still... fever and nausea warrant at least 24 hours of study before I'm willing to seriously consider a doctor. This is largely because of American hospitals: the thought of spending 3 or 4 hours in a waiting room while I'm sick makes me feel even worse. So although I was entirely prepared to surrender multiple unborn children to whatever heathen gods would heal me, I was quite definitely against any and all efforts to take me to a physician. Now, back to reality...
As I said, I made it to work. I spent most of the afternoon curled up with my laptop, and I think I was productive for about 15 minutes. Part of the reason I went in the first place was to explain what had happened; our cell phone wasn't working and neither was the landline, so we had no way to get in touch with the center and let them know what was wrong.
And here is where that paragraph about American hospitals becomes important. Sri Lankans really like to help each other and visitors, and my coworkers were quite concerned that Meg and I were sick. B. walked me home, both to make sure I actually made it and to check on Meg.
Meg was, to put it lightly, not looking so great. And B. saw this, and immediately called W., who showed up 5 minutes later. Neither Meg nor I thought this was necessary, and I can't say I'd be thrilled if my boss showed up at my house while I was sick, but it was quite nice of him. More phone calls were made, all in Sinhala, and G. arrived as well. The point being that I couldn't protest at all, because I didn't know what was going on. This was probably for the best. We didn't know we were going to a doctor until the three-wheeler showed up. Otherwise, we would have dug our feet in a lot more- AUUGGHGHH! Feedback! There is a telecast going on in the next room and they've managed to ring on pretty much every frequency. It's like they're pink noising in really slo-o-o-o-o-w motion. I feel like Odysseus chained to the ship mast listening to the sirens sing, because I really want to run over and fix this.
Ok. So kicking and screaming (read: gurgling and wiggling a toe or two) we went to the doctor, which turned out to be pretty painless. We had to wait about 30 minutes, and we were able to sit in the three-wheeler outside, which was nice. The doctor sat us both down at once, listened to our symptoms, pronouced that we had food poisoning, and gave us some meds. I think the whole bill for both of us, medicine included, was $3.50.
We took the meds and now we're doing much better, and I can actually eat again. It is great. And that was my 4th of July.
At this point, those of you who know my work schedule are probably wondering what happened to Monday, my day off. I saved it, so I could end this post on a happier note.
G., the financial director, only works weekends, because during the week she is 3 hours away at college. This week, however, her grandmother was sick and the center was being audited (by Ernst & Young) so she stayed in town. The audit was Monday morning, and we wanted to see her afterwards, because she's really nice and a lot of fun to hang out with.
We all grabbed lunch at the Double N (don't eat here. food poisoning. bad.) and then G. rounded up her younger brother and 3 of his friends and we headed off to the hot springs. I was mystified as to why on earth 4 19 year old guys would want to drive their sister's friends around, but I gather there isn't really much to do in this town, even if you are Sri Lankan, so maybe they were bored.
We set out in a van for the hot springs, which were about an hour away. Very quickly, paved roads became just a memory, and we were on dirt. G. was quick to mention that all the dirt roads were government roads. I don't think she was joking. The van ride in itself was great fun. We went through the countryside and we saw peacocks, cows, buffalo, and the tree houses.
The tree houses aren't what you think. Here's how it works. Farmers have crops. Lots of them. Green, leafy things. One might even say elephant food. The elephants certainly do. And from a structural standpoint, there's not much a farmer can do to stop the elephants. Certainly not without wrecking his irrigation system, and not for a small enough amount of money that it's affordable (calling all mechE's... calling all mechE's....). So instead, the farmers build small huts in the trees that dot their fields. They sleep in the trees and when the elephants come, the farmers try to scare them away. Wow.
We arrived at the hot springs, which were a bit anticlimatic. You don't sit in them. You get a bucket and pour the water on top of yourself. But they were beautiful, and I have some neat photos for when I get home.
So then we drove around. We went to G.'s uncle's house and hung out for a bit, and we saw elephants at the garbage dump again, and we dropped people off and went home. It was a lot of fun. The boys, once they decided to talk, had a great time teaching us how to swear in Sinhala. One of them decided that Meg was a turtle, and I'm a fox. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the American connotations of that word, especially since he said I looked 55 when he first met me. Little whippersnapper. My mom doesn't even look 55. I valiantly resisted the urge to bludgeon him with my walker.
Speaking of my parents, it just hit me yesterday that they're arriving in about a week or so. I can't wait!
Tomorrow is our next day off, and we're spending the morning in Kataragama, at the temple I think. The temple in Kataragama is significant because it is open to Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, and Christians. We're going with some people from work, and I think it will be a great time. After that, M2 is coming over to hang out. Maybe we'll dance some more.
Today (because I don't think in linear time) I was all set to get cracking on the website for the center, and I was doing pretty well right up until the point when W. told me that B. had called him. B. was running late with some personal matter, and he wanted me to teach his computer class. I was pretty sure this was all a joke, until it was time for class to start and there was no sign of B.
There was nothing for it. I grabbed G. to translate for me and started to teach computer skills to a group of Sri Lankan kids. Other than the language barrier, this wasn't actually too hard. I've spent a lot of time watching B. teach his class because of my role in curriculum development. I also wrote the lesson plan for today's lecture, so it's not like I didn't know the material. The problem is that with only 5 computers and 15 students, chaos is inevitable (hey you physics people, quit your mumbling. I can hear you). And I couldn't really say anything useful. Fortunately, G. was there to help with crowd control. Thank heavens. B. didn't ever make it in to work, so I taught all 3 sections, with G. by my side. Fun day.
The only reason that this bothers me at all is that it was supposed to be my last day at work, and B. is probably my closest friend there. As it turns out, I'll show up Saturday morning, so I'll get one last chance to say good bye to everyone.
The working theory is that Saturday, Meg and I will leave for Weligama. As some spam email once so wisely said, "In theory, theory and practice are the same. In practice, they're not." I asked W. today what time we're supposed to leave, and he told me we'd discuss it on Saturday. Ok then. I just go where people tell me to, and it's quite nice. I left my inner control freak in the States (for the most part). So maybe I'll go to Weligama on Saturday. Maybe Sunday. Maybe not at all. I am quite content with all of those options.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
"They disarm you." "They cut off my arms?!"
I feel like my blog is becoming a brother to the tabloid newspapers, since my headlines seem to be so much more entertaining than my actual posts...
So I was typing just now and I realized that my arms are pretty much gone. I used to have all kinds of muscle built up in my forearms from lifting stuff and now... nothing. ::tear::
So I was typing just now and I realized that my arms are pretty much gone. I used to have all kinds of muscle built up in my forearms from lifting stuff and now... nothing. ::tear::
Part 2
I meant to pick up the story days ago, but for some reason I'm not all that motivated to go near a computer. It's nice not having to check email every 10 minutes.
Sunday was a pretty dead day, all things considered. I showed up at work to find that the staff was involved in a 3 hour English lesson, after which there were classes, and then the rush to turn in final reports. Harith and Malmi also visited the center and checked out the classes. They both had a lot of fun and really wanted to go back.
Monday I went shopping with Maaike for lunch food. We had decided on spaghetti, roasted red peppers, and apple crisp. We grabbed our ingredients and took over Thushari's kitchen. Maaike was doing spaghetti sauce, and I was worrying about the crisp.
I'd asked my mom to email me a crisp recipe so that I had something to work off of, and it was a good idea in theory. In practice, everyone here uses the metric system, and my measurements were in English. Fortunately, apple crisp is a fairly ad hoc science to begin with, so I could guess for most of it. In order to bake it though, I had to convert between Fahrenheit and Celsius, which meant deriving the formula and then doing a bunch of math. The crisp turned out ok though.
After that was in the oven, I turned my attention to the peppers. I had intended to build a fire out back. Roasting peppers is a very aromatic endeavor, and they tend to drip. I didn't want to mess up Thushari's nice, clean stove, or waste her gas. She insisted though, so I put Meg in charge of the pepper problem.
I taught Chris to roast peppers with no problems, so I figured this was safe. But I hadn't counted on the staunch skepticism from the peanut gallery and kitchen mistress. Grilling isn't really in the vocabulary here (neither are bell peppers, for that matter. Non-spicy peppers don't make sense to most Sri Lankans), and I had a tough time convincing Thushari that yes, I really do want the things entirely black.
Once I'd cleared that hurdle, I turned my attention back to whatever I was doing. When I looked again 5 minutes later, there was a pepper roasting on a fork. The fork was glowing red. And then Thushari grabbed it without thinking and burned her hand. Ooops.
But the peppers finally got blackened, and it was then that I realized I'd made the offensively stupid mistake of cooking Italian and forgetting to buy olive oil. That's a hand-to-forehead moment if ever there was one. Olive oil isn't used much here, and the stuff we ended up getting was fairly weak. It is much more common to see vegetable oil or coconut oil.
Tuesday we schlepped all the stuff down to the center for lunch. Maaike's spaghetti was great, and I felt terrible for her because I don't think the staff liked it. Then I felt really bad because they liked my peppers and apple crisp and this was supposed to be her treat for the staff. Maaike, I'm sorry about that.
I had left the peppers at the center, and they appeared on the table for lunch the next day. Without bread. So I was a good sport and put some on my pumpkin curry. Oh. My. God. Heaven on a plate. I can't explain why it was so good, but it really, really was. I didn't think it would be. There were also some spicy green beans in there. Over all, a very good mix.
A couple more notes about food and eating: It took me a few weeks to really develop a taste for Sri Lankan food. The spices are subtle, and so when I got here, everything tasted the same. But now, it's better, and I can distinguish what I'm eating. Also, I like Sri Lankan papadum much better than Indian papadum. The Indian stuff has an herb or something that I'm not a fan of.
Finally, I was struck today by the realization that Sri Lankans don't use napkins. They eat with their hands, and yet there are no napkins in sight. The reason is because they don't need them. The right hand is used exclusively for eating. The left is not used for eating, and so it procures more food if needed. Hands are washed before and after meals. And eating rice with hands necessitates eating very close to the plate, so any food that falls, falls back to the plate. So, no napkins. My mouth and lips are generally cleaner at the end of a Sri Lankan meal than at the end of an American one. Very strange.
The week as a whole was not really noteworthy, although I did teach a few more gymnastics classes. And everything hurts. Dear the States: Please send a masseuse.
M2 has also been after me all week to dance every free minute she gets. This is fun, and I got her to teach me some Sri Lankan dancing. I'm really bad at it. But getting better.
Oh and finally... Meg has already used the filthy foreign diseases line, so I won't. There is a computer virus running rampant in the Hambantota area. It's fixable if you reinstall Windows, but it's completely insidious. Locks out the task manager, the folder view options, the command prompt, msconfig... IN SAFE MODE AS WELL. And it regenerates. This was a pain in the neck all week. The whole centre is infected, and we think the machines at the internet center are in trouble as well. So be careful with your laptop.
Today was quite a day at the centre. We had morning classes, during which time I frantically brushed up on my web design skillz in preparation for redesigning the centre's website. Then classes almost ended, and then everyone wanted me to dance. And do gymnastics and karate. So we did some of that, and I pulled another muscle. But it was fun, and the kids here really like to dance, which is great.
After lunch I finally got a chance to discuss the IT curriculum with B. Meg and I have long suspected that there is more to him than meets the eye. He asked us to teach him a fair amount about computer related topics, which we do. And, obviously, we're helping to develop the IT curriculum. But every so often he'll say or do something that suggests he knows a lot more than he's letting on. He also has another job somewhere.
So today I got sick of guessing and flat out asked him what his other job was. It turns out he was holding out on us big time. He teaches computer skills to adults. He produced the curriculum for that class, which includes 50 hours of theory and 50 hours of practice. It's a hugely scoped class, covering everything from "What is a computer" to MS Office to operating systems and even compilers and linkers. Good God.
Now, in the States, you wouldn't teach a class like that without having some sort of credentials. So then I had to ask him what his computer background was. I didn't get the whole story, but somewhere in there is a college degree in computer science. (!) At this point in the afternoon, I had to spend a good 5 minutes sitting with my tail between my legs. The really embarrassing part of all this is that I'm now more certain than ever that we told him a lot that he already knew, and yet he didn't say a word. I may have to go sit in on a class or two, since he knows xp far better than I do.
Once I'd been suitably whacked with the Humble bat, we finished up discussing the curriculum, and then M2 was after me to dance again. It was pretty late in the day, maybe 5pm. M2 and I started dancing as the rest of the staff finished up their jobs for the day. Then they all came in to watch us dance.
W. has been asking me all week to develop an exercise program for the staff, and I keep telling him I'm not qualified. So today, he, B., and M2 all started getting in on the dancing action. It was revealed that B. can break dance (and he calls himself a C.S. major). B. and W. took great pleasure in doing tricks to see if I could copy them (yes, I can also break dance. Vestiges of a misspent youth, I suppose), and I ended up doing head stands in the computer lab, with W. matching me. I felt it prudent to move things in to the main activity room where there was more space.
There, I had most of the staff trying hand stands and various gymnastic tricks. INCLUDING W., the executive director. Mass craziness ensued. Fortunately no injuries though, other than a small cut.
Some of you might remember that I did battle with lice, and then, with red dye all over my nice shirts. The problem with red dye specifically is that you can't use phrases like "red menace" because everyone gets the wrong idea. Anyway, I won. My shirts are now back to their original colors (white, and not quite white). Thank you, Chlorox.
Sunday was a pretty dead day, all things considered. I showed up at work to find that the staff was involved in a 3 hour English lesson, after which there were classes, and then the rush to turn in final reports. Harith and Malmi also visited the center and checked out the classes. They both had a lot of fun and really wanted to go back.
Monday I went shopping with Maaike for lunch food. We had decided on spaghetti, roasted red peppers, and apple crisp. We grabbed our ingredients and took over Thushari's kitchen. Maaike was doing spaghetti sauce, and I was worrying about the crisp.
I'd asked my mom to email me a crisp recipe so that I had something to work off of, and it was a good idea in theory. In practice, everyone here uses the metric system, and my measurements were in English. Fortunately, apple crisp is a fairly ad hoc science to begin with, so I could guess for most of it. In order to bake it though, I had to convert between Fahrenheit and Celsius, which meant deriving the formula and then doing a bunch of math. The crisp turned out ok though.
After that was in the oven, I turned my attention to the peppers. I had intended to build a fire out back. Roasting peppers is a very aromatic endeavor, and they tend to drip. I didn't want to mess up Thushari's nice, clean stove, or waste her gas. She insisted though, so I put Meg in charge of the pepper problem.
I taught Chris to roast peppers with no problems, so I figured this was safe. But I hadn't counted on the staunch skepticism from the peanut gallery and kitchen mistress. Grilling isn't really in the vocabulary here (neither are bell peppers, for that matter. Non-spicy peppers don't make sense to most Sri Lankans), and I had a tough time convincing Thushari that yes, I really do want the things entirely black.
Once I'd cleared that hurdle, I turned my attention back to whatever I was doing. When I looked again 5 minutes later, there was a pepper roasting on a fork. The fork was glowing red. And then Thushari grabbed it without thinking and burned her hand. Ooops.
But the peppers finally got blackened, and it was then that I realized I'd made the offensively stupid mistake of cooking Italian and forgetting to buy olive oil. That's a hand-to-forehead moment if ever there was one. Olive oil isn't used much here, and the stuff we ended up getting was fairly weak. It is much more common to see vegetable oil or coconut oil.
Tuesday we schlepped all the stuff down to the center for lunch. Maaike's spaghetti was great, and I felt terrible for her because I don't think the staff liked it. Then I felt really bad because they liked my peppers and apple crisp and this was supposed to be her treat for the staff. Maaike, I'm sorry about that.
I had left the peppers at the center, and they appeared on the table for lunch the next day. Without bread. So I was a good sport and put some on my pumpkin curry. Oh. My. God. Heaven on a plate. I can't explain why it was so good, but it really, really was. I didn't think it would be. There were also some spicy green beans in there. Over all, a very good mix.
A couple more notes about food and eating: It took me a few weeks to really develop a taste for Sri Lankan food. The spices are subtle, and so when I got here, everything tasted the same. But now, it's better, and I can distinguish what I'm eating. Also, I like Sri Lankan papadum much better than Indian papadum. The Indian stuff has an herb or something that I'm not a fan of.
Finally, I was struck today by the realization that Sri Lankans don't use napkins. They eat with their hands, and yet there are no napkins in sight. The reason is because they don't need them. The right hand is used exclusively for eating. The left is not used for eating, and so it procures more food if needed. Hands are washed before and after meals. And eating rice with hands necessitates eating very close to the plate, so any food that falls, falls back to the plate. So, no napkins. My mouth and lips are generally cleaner at the end of a Sri Lankan meal than at the end of an American one. Very strange.
The week as a whole was not really noteworthy, although I did teach a few more gymnastics classes. And everything hurts. Dear the States: Please send a masseuse.
M2 has also been after me all week to dance every free minute she gets. This is fun, and I got her to teach me some Sri Lankan dancing. I'm really bad at it. But getting better.
Oh and finally... Meg has already used the filthy foreign diseases line, so I won't. There is a computer virus running rampant in the Hambantota area. It's fixable if you reinstall Windows, but it's completely insidious. Locks out the task manager, the folder view options, the command prompt, msconfig... IN SAFE MODE AS WELL. And it regenerates. This was a pain in the neck all week. The whole centre is infected, and we think the machines at the internet center are in trouble as well. So be careful with your laptop.
Today was quite a day at the centre. We had morning classes, during which time I frantically brushed up on my web design skillz in preparation for redesigning the centre's website. Then classes almost ended, and then everyone wanted me to dance. And do gymnastics and karate. So we did some of that, and I pulled another muscle. But it was fun, and the kids here really like to dance, which is great.
After lunch I finally got a chance to discuss the IT curriculum with B. Meg and I have long suspected that there is more to him than meets the eye. He asked us to teach him a fair amount about computer related topics, which we do. And, obviously, we're helping to develop the IT curriculum. But every so often he'll say or do something that suggests he knows a lot more than he's letting on. He also has another job somewhere.
So today I got sick of guessing and flat out asked him what his other job was. It turns out he was holding out on us big time. He teaches computer skills to adults. He produced the curriculum for that class, which includes 50 hours of theory and 50 hours of practice. It's a hugely scoped class, covering everything from "What is a computer" to MS Office to operating systems and even compilers and linkers. Good God.
Now, in the States, you wouldn't teach a class like that without having some sort of credentials. So then I had to ask him what his computer background was. I didn't get the whole story, but somewhere in there is a college degree in computer science. (!) At this point in the afternoon, I had to spend a good 5 minutes sitting with my tail between my legs. The really embarrassing part of all this is that I'm now more certain than ever that we told him a lot that he already knew, and yet he didn't say a word. I may have to go sit in on a class or two, since he knows xp far better than I do.
Once I'd been suitably whacked with the Humble bat, we finished up discussing the curriculum, and then M2 was after me to dance again. It was pretty late in the day, maybe 5pm. M2 and I started dancing as the rest of the staff finished up their jobs for the day. Then they all came in to watch us dance.
W. has been asking me all week to develop an exercise program for the staff, and I keep telling him I'm not qualified. So today, he, B., and M2 all started getting in on the dancing action. It was revealed that B. can break dance (and he calls himself a C.S. major). B. and W. took great pleasure in doing tricks to see if I could copy them (yes, I can also break dance. Vestiges of a misspent youth, I suppose), and I ended up doing head stands in the computer lab, with W. matching me. I felt it prudent to move things in to the main activity room where there was more space.
There, I had most of the staff trying hand stands and various gymnastic tricks. INCLUDING W., the executive director. Mass craziness ensued. Fortunately no injuries though, other than a small cut.
Some of you might remember that I did battle with lice, and then, with red dye all over my nice shirts. The problem with red dye specifically is that you can't use phrases like "red menace" because everyone gets the wrong idea. Anyway, I won. My shirts are now back to their original colors (white, and not quite white). Thank you, Chlorox.
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