I got sixty dollar sandals fixed by a man who lines his labor up on the side of the road with string and screwdrivers for six ruppees a piece. I gave him one hundred because thats what I thought it was worth because that is how I am told capitalism works after all though I feared he might be slighted by so much, wiping sweat from his brow concerned under an umbrella, under the sun, under God, one nation, one man, one hundred rupees is really nothing after all.
We are leaving for Nainital today. We told the travel agent that we want a cool climated adventure and he booked us a that will crawl up the curled toes of the Himalayas.
I hope this will not be another summer sans swimming.
I want to climb myself up them mountains and feel like I done something, sit in their lap and learn me some words for the things around me--but it is hard to study synonyms and syntax when I know I can wander around what I need to say for ages and somehow get to where I need to be anyway. But I am here to trudge straight through to what I want to say--to know what that is, maybe, if only I knew enough words.
But a break is a break even if I only just got a desk to sit down and scrawl away at. I keep reading the Diaries of Sylvia Plath as if they are a fortune told--her on Fulbright in the UK, and me too, soon enough, strange enough. It always has been.
OFFICIAL DISCLAIMER
- bfa
- Although this blog details experiences had while studying at the University of Cambridge through a Fulbright Scholarship as well as at the American Institute of Indian Studies through a Critical Language Scholarship, it does in no way reflect upon the views of my funding source, the US State Department.