I have A new blog it is Here
I have A new blog it is Here
Why do the ants trust me that they would lay tons of larvae all over the books strewn on my end-table. Don't they know that I would freak out at the sight of them and think that they were maggots, and almost cry in disgust when my finger squishes a few unknowingly as I reach for a book. Do they really think that I wouldn't dispose of them in an instant without even a little bit of guilt, because I am not there friend and I am not generous with my space when it comes to rodents or insects. Well hopefully they have gotten the point now that there new little hive has been foiled and I showed no mercy even as they frantically grabbed the huge larvae twice there size and scurried for there lives. Be afraid little ants be very afraid.
I am sitting on the kitchen counter watching the milk to make sure that it doesn't boil over onto the counter like it does just about every night that I make yogurt. My brain so quickly forgets its simple task at hand even when I stand over the milk to make sure it doesn't boil over I still find myself wandering into my room plopping myself onto my bed and picking my book up, till I suddenly remember that I was just in the kitchen watching the milk, so I get up to go back into the kitchen and then find myself walking over to my computer to journal about the days events, maybe even talk about how I always forget to watch the milk as I remember oh yah I am supposed to be watching the milk, then I decide to take my computer into the kitchen and type about how I forget to watch the milk so that I keep my mind on watching the milk. The milk just started boiling time to turn it off.
I went to the guest house down the road to have a glass of port with C (another friend who just arrived). When we sat down at a table to order, my chair was quite uncomfortable, along with all of the other available chairs except one which a guy was using as a foot rest. I went up to the guy and asked him if I could exchange my chair for the chair his foot was resting on, as I was asking him I noticed that he had crutches, so the words that escaped my mouth before I had time to think, and before I realized his legs were crippled, were
On the topic of the animals here in Goa. we have an animal that I only know by the name of bush-cat currently climbing up the inside of our well. It fell in while climbing through the chicu trees. Rachel and Jaya were looking in the well and saying ahh poor little cat, then at the same time of realizing that it wasn't a cat they gasped eww is it a rat! A huge rat in our well water!!!! they took a closer look and could not figure out what is was. Some kind of cat looking creature with a long nose, more like a possum. I've seen one in Sierra Leone, in fact I held it in my lap. I was too scared to move or pet it much though, because although it was a pet it wasn't quite tame, and it hissed a lot.
I missed out on the monkey coming into our house today. He was sitting on the kitchen floor, Jaya had to shoo him out. I would have loved to have been there. To see the monkeys cheeky expression as it was chased away, Peepbo going crazy outside barking at the rest of the gang swinging through the trees, unaware of the actual intruder. I love these monkeys that come to steal our chicu fruits, with there grey poofy hair and black faces. I love them even though we have to yell at them and chase them away, because they come in gangs and the weight of there swinging bodies onto our roofs breaks the clay shingles. When I was trying to catch a peek of one it caught my eye and stared curiously and unalarmed.
I am in love with spiced chai. Everyday in the morning and at three o,clock I have my chai. It's my daily comfort, it's yummy and warm and sweet and spicy. It's also easy to make. You put half milk and half water in a sauce pan with 2 cloves, a cinnamon stick, a cardomon pod, a black peppercorn some ginger and 2 1/2 teaspoons sugar, bring to a boil then add about a Tablespoon of black tea, simmer for about 3-5 minutes, then run through a seive into your cup. Then find a relaxing place and savour every sip.
What is it about the ocean that causes one to dream dreams. To hope, surrender and long. The vastness of blue ocean under blue sky. Foamy white waves crashing or gently lapping against the sand. The sea smell and sea sounds. Shells that never cease to be treasures. It is a healing place for me. Care and anxiety calms in my mind with the oceans music.
Living in Goa has great perks. Being able to just up and rent a scooter for one, no paper work or insurance. The beautiful fields of green leaves draping over tropical hills, warmth and plenty of time to read and dream. I found a little cafe today that is also a book store, and holds a book club as well. This month the book being read is The Diving Bell and the butterfly. I bought a cup of chai while I was there and a lady working there kept remarking on how I use the same amount of sugar as her. "one spoon, oh me too, I also take one spoon. How is your chai, was that the right amount of sugar, that is also the amount that I like, are you finished, did you like your chai, it was sweet enough, it is the way I like it too." I didn't want to tell her that it was a bit to sweet for me.
Yesterday the monsoon calmed down a bit, like God drawing the rainy curtains aside to peer through and smile on us, I was so eager to get out and about that I was willing to venture in to Mapusa again. I needed to do somethings in town and Chinua knows were everything is so I was going to follow him. Let me just say, of all the days to go into the city, the one clear day after many rainy days is the craziest. the roads were so crowded, with little motorcycles and scooters edging through and weaving into any open place on the road, pedestrians, bicycles, big dirty work trucks, buses, men (old and young) grasping with all there might onto huge bundles of produce wile crossing the street. And then timid me. Chinua was even shocked at how busy it was. So we stopped at the coffee shop, and hung out for a while. After that it was pretty exciting, I really started to get the hang of driving around in the busy chaos of the city. Then we decided to go to Panjin, another city 20 minutes away. We went back home to get helmets because that is the law here, you must take helmets on the freeway. I found the freeway to be much more scary than Mapusa, it wasn't crowded at all but we went at a greater speed, and I found there was to much time to think, my thinking going toward falling off the scooter and how much it would hurt and praying for it to never ever happen, while the winds blowing against my side made my scooter want to swerve.
It has been a true monsoon last couple of days, rain rain, non stop, (well little stops here and there, but that doesn't sound as dramatic). I've even been sleeping with a little bowl on my bed where big water drops fall heavy from the ceiling with a loud splat. My favorite rain is the strong one that brings cool breezes roaming throughout the house. The other day me and Jaya (our maid) put on masks that she makes from scratch, she explained the mask as "it's only the dust taking out". It's was a funny site, the dog was prancing up and down yipping at our scary faces. Then I started taking pictures of her and myself on my computer. She really got a kick out of the pictures that distort your face.
I've rented a scooter, a little bit of automotive material to whip me along wherever I need to go. It took me a while to finally decide to get one. I've been so freaked out about the idea of myself being a driver on these Goan roads. Squeezing past oncoming buses on tiny potholed streets. The first day that I got it I started down the road going about 2 miles an hour, my feet hitting the road in a kind of swinging step to keep me from falling over as I was giggling and screaming. Locals were staring at me in amusement and kids giggling back as I hollered my explanation that this was my first time, I've never ridden one before. I finally braved it and took off, and I've been zipping around ever since. Yesterday I decided to be brave and go threw Mapusa (the closest city) to a little coffee shop(yes there is a coffee shop and it's quite nice). Getting there wasn't much of a problem, however I did get lost coming back. I thought that I was entering a one way, so I quickly veered left (we drive on the left side of the street here), then I veered left again completely going the wrong way and found myself on a freeway. My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach took my hearts place, while I frantically found a place to pull over. I sat there for a moment and caught my breath then asked someone for directions. That Someone was nice enough to have me follow him to show me were to go, but was trying to have a conversation the whole way, while I was concentrating on not veering into his motorcycle that was two feet from my wheels. Even as I write about it I feel like I need to take a moment to catch my breath. I am not quite the thrill seeking type and tend to burrow into safety like a tick so I think this scooter will be good for me.
Ella Fitzgerald is the best choice for a surreal rainy, and humid Indian morning. I have made it. No trash heaps yet. It's quite lush here. My backyard is the jungle. The kind with vines, strait from the jungle book. I went into town yesterday and it makes me think of an Italian town with a monsoon jungle crowding around all the aging stores. An Italian India. The house we are house sitting has a dog that is in love with me already. He's good at giving loving puppy dog eyes that just scream pet me please I am your new best friend. We also have a maid, that kind of came with the house as well. She's very sweet and wears beautiful, colorful indian clothes. I am still a little dazed, and I am sure each day will come with an assortment of emotions, but I have made it, and so now I am going to listen to Ella.
I want to live in a land that is misty, such places hold no past or future, just the present moment confined within the misty borders, and the hope which transends time. I would walk around carefree with dew drops moistening my skin, the distant fog a comfort, threatening and keeping out the regrets that darken it's translucency. I would not be overly pleased with myself when I do good, as that might cause too much disappointment when I fail to meet that same standard. I will just be, and I will have joy because my love will come not from myself or my actions, but from the One with the endless supply.