No more excuses

They have opened up a new free cyber center in my town, with blogs unblocked, so i no longer have any excuse not to update. So if i am not updating frequently enough you have every right to yell at me. And please do. In long and frequent e-mails and/or letters that also include updates on your life, book recommendations, and (in the case of snail mail) jars of salsa made in Texas with roasted tomatoes and peppers.

What should i tell you about my life since i last updated? How about i describe my morning today?

I woke up around 8 and went into our common room to have a mango and the last cup of cardomom tea that i'd brought back from India for breakfast. After showering, Vanessa and i took my locally made straw shopping bag and went to the market, where we wandered the stalls comparing prices on peppers and limes, buying tomatoes, potatoes, and pitayas, a cactus fruit endemic to Reunion that is neon pink and spiky on the outside and either magenta or white with little black spots on the inside. After we'd taken care of our groceries, we flanner-ed briefly through the sovenir/non-food side of the market, joking about potential birthday presents for Vanessa's brother - my suggestions of Hawaiian shirts (joking) and spice mixes for making flavoured rum (serious) were eventually rejected. But i did find a five euro pocket knife, which makes me happy.

After the market, we separated at a roundabout with a bust of Ghandi in the center. Ness walked home with the groceries, i walked in the other direction to the local temple of the Hindu Goddess Kali, where Tamil lessons are offered on the weekends. I was a little early for my meeting with the people offering the classes, so i wandered around the temple grounds, reveling in the peace, the sunshine, the bright colours, and then sat down to read the copy of The Sound and the Fury that i'd checked out from the library.

When the man who organized the classes arrived he led me to a low open building, where the woman who gives the lessons was leading a small group of men and women in learning to sing Tamil-language Hindu devotionals. The class seemed quite good at it, and also looked to be having fun, laughing and smiling when they made a mistake. While we looked on, the organizer explained to me how the classes worked - for a flat monthly fee i could do as many classes as i liked - in language, singing, dance, indian cooking...only the first and last of those appeal to me, but it still seemed like a good idea. With about 10 minutes left in that class, the organizer interrupted and asked if the teacher would sing for us before the session ended. A few minutes later she began. It was absolutely lovely - the kind of music you would hear in an Indian art film, accompanied by images of women in saris in rice paddies. Everyone in the room was clearly captivated. Outside the sun was shining on the temple and the palm trees. And i remembered why i had decided to spend a year travelling.

I love and miss you all