Today’s language class included a visit to someone’s house. Yup, just some random visit with people I don’t know so we could chat. It wasn’t too bad, someone handed me a bowl of uncooked rice to paw through so I could pick out the dirty stuff before it was cooked. My language teacher was playing a soccer game on his cell phone throughout the visit, and frustrated he wasn't doing his part to carry the faltering conversation I leaned over and hissed he was being rude. He just looked bewildered and went back to the game. Judging by his chatter on the way back to the center I don't think there were any hurt feelings.
As far as the day to day stuff goes I am officially tired of being polite all the time. Seriously, it’s draining me. Two days ago I came home tired and assuming one of my host-sisters was out I didn’t go looking for her. When I saw her twenty minutes later she was angry with me for not asking about her. Yesterday my language teacher came to the house so we could do the language class here. A half hour after the class was finished he was still sitting on the couch chatting, and I’m thinking ‘is this ever going to end?’
Okay, no I’m not a very nice person. I can’t say this is a revelation, so I’m just going to grit my teeth and smile. I’m probably just having a bad week because I am thoroughly sick of language classes. It’s my own fault too, which only makes it worse because I tend to be more gracious while pretending to be the martyr.
P.S. I’m writing this in a hurry at a restaurant and two French women came in smoking cigarettes. They don’t look like prostitutes.
P.P.S. Is it homesickness when you really, really want to drink beer in your sister's backyard and have a gossip session? I feel like you should be homesick for the smell of chocolate chip cookies or something, and while that would be nice I think I would prefer beer and gossip.
Okay, forget the postscripts. Mom, I bought some fabric today you would love. I'm having it made into a skirt, but clothes seem to fall apart quickly here so I don't think you'll ever actually see the fabric.
Having clothes made here is fun. For $3 I bought 2 meters of fabric, and for another few bucks I'm having it made into a skirt. I don't turn the whole experience into the sport other people do though.
Peace Corps volunteers are notorious for loving to haggle. Myself, I enter the tailor's thinking no price is too outrageous. Keep in mind here, were' talking about half dollars. I'll probably get over it soon. I know the other volunteers don't appreciate it when I'm supposed to be the one doing the French translation and cheerfully agree to the first price quoted. I prefer to think there's more goodwill going around when I do the talking and we Americans get a little incentive to learn the local language. The exasperated looks from my fellow volunteers say differently.
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