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Dining with Rainbows
I don't usually take photos these days, but this was an exception. This is my view during dinner after the usual 5pm thunderstormTake your hand and hold it out in front of you, palm up. Now spread out your fingers. Yes, I think about that. That was the size of the spider I woke up to (add an inch or two for leg span), resting comfortably on the wall above my head. It was LARGE. Large enough to cast a shadow, large enough to see fangs. Linnea gets the point across when she comments that if we are to smash it, the carcass of a small dog, or even child could be inside.
But this is where the communal living has its benefits. Now I pride myself in being a strong and independent woman, but I’m no dummy. I know when to consult the boys. I cross the hall to Roger and Elliot’s room, asking calmly for assistance with a spider. Elliot rolls his eyes and walks into my room, stopped at the doorway, and I believe his exact words were “HOLY S***. That’s a BIG SPIDER.” Yes, even Elliot is scared. We all agree this is going to involve some planning. After about 5 minutes, we decide upon a squeegy stick, a bucket... and a bottle of windex. (I’m not saying
this is a good plan). Elliot is elected to “gently” scoot the spider into the bucket, where we will deposit her safely outside, faraway from the flat.
Linnea and I watch from the other side of the room. Elliot gently “pokes” the spider, but the “gentle” poke releases about 300 baby spiders that quickly scurry throughout my room. Oh dear, this is not good. Their very angry mother dashes behind the curtain. We lost her. We search the whole curtain, throwing large objects and stabbing with long sticks, nope, not there. We search my bed, stripping the sheets, not there. Every corner of the room in only the way that frenetic and dramatic Americans could do, not there. She’s too big to fit through a little crack. She’s gotta be here somewhere. And I’ve gotta sleep here tonight. I look down and notice my bags are open, there is no place left to look except the bags. We bring everything outside and search inside and out, nope, not there. Now I know I just said this, but I’ve got to sleep in this room tonight, and I’m not exactly fond of spiders. Mom, remember all the nightmares after that
Captured
The mission was successful thanks to the joint efforts of Elliot and Linnea, and Cluedo. Brady Bunch Episode when they’re all in Hawaii?
I mention the situation to the CCS staff at lunchtime to which they reply, “Oh, the front room right? Yes, that’s the spider room. No one wants that room. Always large spiders in there.”
The day goes on, and I pep talk myself into believing my room is safe. I mean we did turn over the beds. Literally. And we did search every corner. It’s only logical. She can’t be there, she just cant.
I return home about 10pm and crawl into bed. I’m even ok with the hundreds of little ones running around which I still frequently flick off my pillow. But I have a funny feeling, the feeling of a bigger presence in the room. I look over to find that funny feeling was correct, and not funny. There sits the bigger presence waiting for my return on the ceiling above my door, waiting to jump on my head and stick her giant fangs in my neck to inject her poison. She will roll me up in her web and keep me stored in the corner of the room where she and her 300 babies will feed
Shoes
At the entrance of the Temple of His Holiness. on my blood for several days. I’m certain that’s her plan.
Elliot! She’s back! We join forces once again, Now others from the flat are involved... Linnea, Stefanie and Jillian. We ditch the stick and decide upon the bucket and a board game (Cluedo, a generic version of Clue). The plan is to capture the spider in the bucket on the ceiling. Then slowly we will slide the game board on top of the bucket, and release her outside. REALLY far away from the flat, like over the cliff.
Despite the screeching (both us and the spider), the mission was a success, and even documented on film. I was able to sleep peacefully. At least until the 2 birds flew into my room the next morning, one flying directly into my window, bouncing off the glass and smacking my forehead with it’s wing.
A main reason why I chose this place is because I wanted to be close to nature. But my room is like living in a page of National Geographic. The universe has got some sense of humor.
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The fact is, that there has been so much that has happened the past
The Dalai Lama's Temple
Spinning wheels with the monks few weeks, so many different “chapters” but it is just too much to condense, to difficult to put into words. And at this point, for the most part, I’ve put down my camera and turned off my laptop. I’ve been using these last weeks to let go of all the recording, and just be.
I’m really enjoying my time in India very much, I’m even happy with my flat mates... now. It seems everyone had a problem with Yago, the 19 year old music student from Portugal who brought his own guitar to play AND sing DON’T WORRY BE HAPPY and WE BE JAMMIN about 18 hours out of a 24 hour day. But Yago is gone, and I’ve grown particularly attached to Jillian and Linnea, both who can conjure up some good hard belly laughs from me, a most therapeutic balance to the heaviness that is still sitting from Vietnam. I’m enjoying the coffee shop with them which is situated a few minutes walk from the Dalai Lama's home and temple. The girls drink coffee and I drink hot chocolate and we all eat the chocolate cake, it is our reward from walking the steep hills. I’m also
in training to be a Ayurvedic (Indian) masseuse in the evenings, so I’m enjoying my massage class, as well as the instructor I’ve befriended. Surinder, or “Pappu” has taken me on excellent hikes and motorbike rides that overlook the Himalayas at sunsets, which I think has just maybe cured my fear of motorbikes. I’m even taking a liking to Holden, the mangey dog that lives on the doorstep of our flat.
But my favorite time is with the children, all 87 of them. This placement is a lot of work, a lot of planning, and a lot of fun. I still have my challenges, like crayon control. I don’t believe these kids ever had crayons, so when I gave them to them, well, I just couldn’t get them back. And I only have 20 boxes to work with. At first they just up front stole them. I lost 3 boxes in one day. By the next day I learned to collect them individually instead of asking them to return them, some just looked at me and nodded their heads no. Next step was locking the door and not letting them leave the classroom until I got every one back.
Massage Class
How great is this class? Melanie, Jillian and Pappu all giving me a foot massage. Strictly educational, I swear! I try to take notes but I was half asleep.
Linnea deserves the photo credit (: I even numbered the boxes and numbered their hands (using names doesn’t work, they like to tell you a different name every time you ask them, that’s a fun trick the little ones play with the teacher, and one I didn’t catch on to for 3 days). But it’s also not enough to collect the boxes, you have to open them and count them and make sure they haven’t broken off a piece and hidden it in their shoes. I even had to do some body searches. Pockets, inside pants, up their sleeves, in their socks...IN THEIR MOUTHS. But I am happy to report that they now all return the crayons without me asking at the end of class. It only took 2 weeks, and a whole lot of perseverance.
I also have been given another volunteer to assist, Gareth, an elder gent who is a lawyer from Britain. Him and his new wife, Jo are on their honeymoon at CCS (now that’s dedication). He brings a good sense of humor, a lot of creativity, and a cool accent. He is a great help and is transitioning perfectly to teach the children once I am gone.
It is
all so wonderful, this is what I am thinking as I walk along the hills. I have had the opportunities to experience the extremes, the highs and lows of life, the peacefulness, the chaos, the luxuries of the rich and the sobering reality of death, hunger and poverty. All the things I hated, the things I loved, and all the people I will miss from the past 5 months, as well as people I never want to see again. The experiences that brought tears of joy, tears of sorrow. Learning from it all and leaving pieces of myself behind in the process. But one thought has been haunting me as I am coming closer to the end of this journey. There is one thought that scares me even more than the motorbikes in Hoi An, that I have one week left until I am “home” and there is no one there who will really relate to my experiences...like the spider on my wall... or the sound of the winds that blew through the killing fields of Cambodia, or how I made Tam laugh so hard he spit his mango shake out in the middle of a restaurant, who will remember
You must be my lucky star
Every day at school, for the first half of the class we learn English and the 2nd half we do a craft that is related. Today was "shapes" day and I gave them colored yarn to sew their stars.
I still have hand cramps from all the hole punching, but well worth it. We also are learning Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. They dance their stars above their heads as they recite the poem and it is absolutely adorable. that with me? Who will know what it’s like to slurp down a PHO noodle soup in heat of Saigon, or how the boys from the Special Needs school in Costa Rica all gave me hugs on Valentine’s Day. The memories are all very special because they are only mine, but at the same time, they are also memories that make me feel incredibly disconnected and distant from friends and family at home. I am as sad as I am happy, and yet it all makes me feel balanced, peaceful, and overwhelmingly grateful with the life that I have.
I walked back to my flat last night as all these thoughts circled in my mind, strolling along the dark windy path with ease I realized I wasn’t using my flashlight I always use. But I didn’t need to, I know the way now.
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Lori
non-member comment
I think you should write a book.
Sherry, I know you feel us common folk cannot relate to all the things you have seen and done. To be sure, we cannot fully appreciate the impact these things have had on you. But your way of storytelling makes me feel like I was there. I didn't know weather to laugh or cry when I read your telling of the spider incident. Thanks for making a little housewife's day a little brighter, and reminding me that we are all here to spread what light we can to the world. You are doing that in a way that most people cannot, but we should all strive to do our part in whatever way we can. Happy trails home again. Maybe you and lisa can come visit me in California.