I feel like everyday comes with at least a story or three. Living here is full of surprises. I love it...and because I love it I feel like I will survive. If I didn't I would go crazy.
For instance. On the bus the other day the man sitting next to the driver starts yelling at him and getting upset then GRABS the WHEEL and slightly jerks the bus. All the other men on the bus start yelling at him and they argue a little then he storms off the bus into traffic.
I had to get 6 passport pictures taken for my stay visa. I went to a place called Foto Romantic. I was offered a holographic picture of myself. Noooo thanks. Then much to my surprise I got to pick my background color and was told to smile. Hm.
Yesterday I saw a rickshaw driver bopping along with just a goat for a passenger in the back.
I am becoming grateful for sweat. I know its gross, but because it is so darn hot here and there is little to no AC anywhere, one really does notice the role sweat plays in colling off the body.
Last week when I was walking somewhere a small family pulled over in their car and asked me for money for gas. A car is a luxury item here and anyone driving a car clearly does not need any money. I said I didn't have any money and thats why I was walking. It was true.
I made Playdoh for the center yesterday so I went to the corner shop and bought 7 bags of flour and 6 bags of salt. The shop owner must have thought I was crazy. He asked me a few times if I really wanted 6 bags of salt. He held it up and held up 6 fingers and I nodded and nodded. Then again, he also told me that my Arabic was good, so maybe he is a little crazy too.
I was on a bus the other day and the khamsari (the guy who hangs halfway off the bus and does the hand sign for it and that you give your money to) was teenagerish looking and was wearing a jalabiyya, which is the full white long-sleeved dress looking thing that a lot of the men here wear. It seemed an odd choice for his job. I shortly realized it was a bad choice as he seriously tripped and almost fell on his face hopping off the bus. Twice.
It is haboob (dust storm) season so some days are pretty windy. On the really windy days there is dust everywhere and you can barely see down the street. On these days the air and houses and everything fill with dust. But the dust also blocks out quite a bit of heat, so those days are so nice and cool. Even if everything you own (inside or out) becomes brown.
A bit of culture for you--women do not cross their legs. Also I have to eat/pay/take change/do everything with my right hand.
I have 2 geckos that live in/around my room. There may be more, but there is at least one less huge roach. Bleh. That is one living creature that I have no mercy for.
At the boys center the other night they had some music on and, I have no idea why or how, Justin Beiber's song "Baby" came on and these boys who know little to no English were mumbling along to the chorus. Hilarious. Oh man, if they had any idea...
Let's talk about the boys center. I still feel super awkward half the time, but I am really starting to love my time there with them. They are great boys and they are hilarious. And forgiving of my awful Arabic and patient to try to help me understand what they mean. I have it on good authority that most are loving the arts and crafts activity I do with them. Woohoo! And one of the staff told me that I have made a friend in Ojeng--that he asks about me constantly. They call me over to play in their games that I still don't fully understand and they ask me to play soccer with them every night. I think they still are a little flabbergasted with a girl who plays soccer. I'm not great (really I'm not), not even good, but I am ok most days and I think that shocks them even more. I took out my camera to finally start taking some pictures and one of the older boys asked for it and they started a glamour shot photo shoot. From somewhere they pulled out a white fedora and aviators and were taking turns looking fly. I was rolling. I'm not great at taking pictures and I could not be happier to pass off my camera and let someone else take them for me.
I am not sure if it's starting to feel like home, but I am kind of loving it here. :)
Teenage boys and their glamour shots...
For instance. On the bus the other day the man sitting next to the driver starts yelling at him and getting upset then GRABS the WHEEL and slightly jerks the bus. All the other men on the bus start yelling at him and they argue a little then he storms off the bus into traffic.
I had to get 6 passport pictures taken for my stay visa. I went to a place called Foto Romantic. I was offered a holographic picture of myself. Noooo thanks. Then much to my surprise I got to pick my background color and was told to smile. Hm.
Yesterday I saw a rickshaw driver bopping along with just a goat for a passenger in the back.
I am becoming grateful for sweat. I know its gross, but because it is so darn hot here and there is little to no AC anywhere, one really does notice the role sweat plays in colling off the body.
Last week when I was walking somewhere a small family pulled over in their car and asked me for money for gas. A car is a luxury item here and anyone driving a car clearly does not need any money. I said I didn't have any money and thats why I was walking. It was true.
I made Playdoh for the center yesterday so I went to the corner shop and bought 7 bags of flour and 6 bags of salt. The shop owner must have thought I was crazy. He asked me a few times if I really wanted 6 bags of salt. He held it up and held up 6 fingers and I nodded and nodded. Then again, he also told me that my Arabic was good, so maybe he is a little crazy too.
I was on a bus the other day and the khamsari (the guy who hangs halfway off the bus and does the hand sign for it and that you give your money to) was teenagerish looking and was wearing a jalabiyya, which is the full white long-sleeved dress looking thing that a lot of the men here wear. It seemed an odd choice for his job. I shortly realized it was a bad choice as he seriously tripped and almost fell on his face hopping off the bus. Twice.
It is haboob (dust storm) season so some days are pretty windy. On the really windy days there is dust everywhere and you can barely see down the street. On these days the air and houses and everything fill with dust. But the dust also blocks out quite a bit of heat, so those days are so nice and cool. Even if everything you own (inside or out) becomes brown.
A bit of culture for you--women do not cross their legs. Also I have to eat/pay/take change/do everything with my right hand.
I have 2 geckos that live in/around my room. There may be more, but there is at least one less huge roach. Bleh. That is one living creature that I have no mercy for.
At the boys center the other night they had some music on and, I have no idea why or how, Justin Beiber's song "Baby" came on and these boys who know little to no English were mumbling along to the chorus. Hilarious. Oh man, if they had any idea...
Let's talk about the boys center. I still feel super awkward half the time, but I am really starting to love my time there with them. They are great boys and they are hilarious. And forgiving of my awful Arabic and patient to try to help me understand what they mean. I have it on good authority that most are loving the arts and crafts activity I do with them. Woohoo! And one of the staff told me that I have made a friend in Ojeng--that he asks about me constantly. They call me over to play in their games that I still don't fully understand and they ask me to play soccer with them every night. I think they still are a little flabbergasted with a girl who plays soccer. I'm not great (really I'm not), not even good, but I am ok most days and I think that shocks them even more. I took out my camera to finally start taking some pictures and one of the older boys asked for it and they started a glamour shot photo shoot. From somewhere they pulled out a white fedora and aviators and were taking turns looking fly. I was rolling. I'm not great at taking pictures and I could not be happier to pass off my camera and let someone else take them for me.
I am not sure if it's starting to feel like home, but I am kind of loving it here. :)
Teenage boys and their glamour shots...
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