Oct 9, 2007

The anxiety...

...with which I went to sleep made me wake up early this morning.

I decide to do things calmly, I enjoy a large bowl of cereal knowing that it's not too fattening, and, given the quantity, I won't be hungry for a while. I do the usual walk [up to school] without difficulty, that walk that once upon a time almost made me faint. Now I don't even break a sweat.

I head for the infirmary, last rabies vaccine. The nurse makes me comfortable with her affectionate nicknames. Although she sways when she walks and tells bizarre stories of her husband in the war, no one can give shots better than she. The needle is absolutely imperceptible and the whole thing only lasts a few seconds. Unfortunately, however, neither experience nor a sure hand can save me from the horrible sensation that they sprayed gelatine into my arm. Not that clear gelatine that I always ate on my grandmother's turkey, but the kind they try to pass off as dessert here: dense and disgusting with pieces of fruit.

While I take off the bandaid under the shower, I hear the shrill cry of a monkey and realize that it was worth it. You meet at least one monkey a day, and it makes a big difference to know that, if I get bitten, at least I won't die of rabies.

The school day goes well.

The coffee they took away from us during recess because we spilled it all over the place has been given back to us thanks to excessive and constant protests by the undersigned caffeine addict.

My English teacher gave me some pages she wrote, narrating her first days in India. I never shared anything so intimate with a teacher before. Thinking it over, I realize that I get along with all my teachers, even those with whom I don't have lessons but know them anyway, given the relatively small size of this community.

My dorm supervisor compliments me; she's heard that I'm making friends quickly, that I talk to everyone and that people are happy to see a "SAGE girl" (exchange student) settle in so well. She, too, has had her nose pierced, a practice that is spreading throughout the girls' dorms worse than the plague. In spite of this, I look at my little white stone in my usual little nose, feeling proud of myself and ever more satisfied.

India now is home.

"Bravo" is "shabash!", "good" is "accha", "ok" is "ti ke!" and today, after a long time, I had the pleasure of hearing the phrase "ma che cazzo te ne frega?!" on the phone. I missed that.

Speaking of my experience becomes ever more difficult given the normality and habits which take over, making everything less interesting and tellable, in my eyes.

I'm well, I'm really well.

Spot the monkey!

Elisa

View from school

Nothing

that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes."

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