the tenth month blues

When I arrived in August I was so happy to see a pool but the happiness evaporated quickly when I saw how dirty it was and that one doesn't swim in it unless one is a toddler.  I'd be wading.  Still at 118 in the shade, I was always tempted to disrobe and at least wade for a while.

Cooped up in this house I swear God has me in a corner, he's, she's, it's forcing me to renounce, renounce what?  Why I can't I be where I want to be doing what I want to do?  Ok, God is listening, again, what do you want to be doing and where do you want to do it? Accgg, God already knows.

The pomegranates are pretty damn good here, take a mouthful and each of the seeds is filled with juice, it's a marvelous and unfortunately dangerous fruit to eat because the corn-sized kernals are filled with juice and inside each kernal and there's also a hard seed determined to break up my teeth a little more but for now they only get stuck between them and then I start chiseling away causing potentially more damage.  Sigh.  But they are good. What to do. I have yet to see a blender anywhere, ah, what's the point, 98 percent of the time there is no electricity in the morning, wouldn't it be nice to make pomegranate juice.

After three months of teaching there's no question these are good students, so unlike those I've worked with those who come from wealthy nations.  And they are very courteous and respectful to me as a teacher, I must say I don't mind the politeness, it's kind of endearing.  And it's nice I don't have to deal with anyone's mobiles, if someone calls they step out, and there's no sms-ing and no wifi is available to them, another good thing.  When I have the smartphone out everyone comments on how nice it is.  It's more of a smart ass phone and a normal smartphone.  Teacher, what is 'smart-ass'?

I've been fortunate to have a roof to take photos of the sky, I sure hope they don't lock the roof door or tell me not to go up because of some pumpkin heads fear I'll expose their possessions, it would be a bummer and I will leave.  Six months will be enough, close a door on nature on me bud and you lose me.

Two images from the 'Bush Bazaar', rice no one will ever eat and a young boy in the tent full of GI tents.
And of course, coffee, instant is fine here, I miss the real stuff, but the real stuff is just better when you don't have it for a long long time.

 I ain't no fiddler on the roof that's for sure.  It looks like you are going over the ledge.  With my hand out, to lead the way?  Pish.