To Those Who Know Me Better Than I Know Myself: (and I don't have all the emails I need...)
Some things don't change. Still I receive complaints that I don't let people know where I'm going or what I'm doing. When we received the lecture about not swimming in rivers, everyone turned to give we the meaningful stare. This quirky character trait of mine bit me in the arse this week. While I spent a glorious hour perfecting my crawl, floating beside fishies, and holding my breath, the rest of the school waited for me to join the teachers at the picnic table for lunch. Dragging my soggy, lobster-pink self out of the water, I hopped blindly over the scorching sand to the inconspicuous hammock at the back. Or so I thought. I actually drew attention away from the memorial of the first president. Urgh.
I also attracted the attention of the concerned town leader who told a teacher to warn that white female against walking along the road to town alone. I supressed my strangled gag reflex and didn't protest, since I don't want anybody else to feel responsible for naïve little me. After all, this is new terrain. But still, of all outrageously unfair expectations, why did they have to curb WALKING? I'm pleased to live in a small, safe, neighborly town. This one-in-a-million chance of a nasty attack threatens me less than the morons who speed along the road. Cringe, cough, splutter, sigh.
"Where's my freedom?" I asked myself moodily. And then I heard the suggestion that I take a friend along. Oh, so it's the solitary aspect that worries people. Fine, let's go. Nobody can follow my schedule because it's too spontaneous. But you never know, it may become a habit of mine to inform people of my whereabouts and demand company. Wouldn't that be nice?
But like my mum says, you can only change about two percent of your personality at a time, if at all. So I haven't transformed into an organized executive yet. The usual problems keep materializing.
Speaking of reoccurences, how odd it is to find myself doing bizarre things that I've previously only dreamed about, such as speaking nonsense with strangers. Next week I start teaching English and Art. I'm ready. I'm really pleased about teaching art because it will visually jazz up the classroom. Funny how it's taken me this long to actually value art as more than a hobby. Ok, it's dinner time.
I'll describe more about this place in a newsy letter later,
T
12 minutes ago
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