The importance of stories

Recently, I have come to understand that something can be important, without it being a fact. For me this applies primarily to my beliefs, understandings, and assumptions about what I actually believe.

For instance, I had been developing a problem with history. Growing up, I believed history was one of the easiest things to study and learn, based on the fact that it has all already happened, and all I had to do was remember it. But as I got older, and history started changing and the concept of different interpretations, and knowledge of how much influence the person actually writing the history had on what was passed forward to future generations, history became something to be wary of.

I became unable to turn my back on history for one minute without realizing that something I thought about history was in fact wrong, misleading, incomplete, or simply skewed a little off target. So I stopped trusting. I couldn't believe anything happened they way people said it happened.

After doing some reading, some soul searching, and spending a lot of time thinking about it, I now have a different approach. The stories that are told as history, while they may not be factual, ARE important. It is important to know that something happened. It is important to realize that it is part of what shaped your world. The way we THINK things happen shape the world just as much, if not more, than the way things ACTUALLY happen.

We humans need stories. We need it about the past, the present, the future, ourselves, the world around us, and things beyond our own world. And whether or not a thing actually happens does not take away from the historical and actual impact of something.

To sum it all up. Stories are important because we make them important.

Travel Sick

So I have been home for 3 days now, and last night I got a serious case of Delhi Belly. I thought it was particularly unfair that I spent 3 months in Asia and managed to avoid getting sick, just to get a wicked case of stomach problems after getting back to America.

Someone suggested that this was just my body flushing India from my system. This morning, my system apparently is 100% flushed, so I hope I do not need to worry about this process any more.

I suppose the fact that I cam home and just kept going might have had something to do with what happened to me. I still haven't taken a day to just relax and unwind after traveling. There just isn't any time.

Adreno-travel

I went to bed at 12:00 last night. It was the first real sleep I had had in 48 hours. It was the first time I have slept in MY bed. It was everything I hoped it would be and more.

It is amazing how easy it is to fall asleep when you have not slept for 48 hours, just got done traveling, and take a heavy dose of NyQuil. I only got 8 hours, but that seems to be all I am capable of.

When I travel, I have an incredibly high level of energy. Always being on the move gives me... momentum. However after I return home, I usually crash hard. This time, I came home to a full dance card. I have things planned, scheduled, and forced upon me for the next 5 days. The effect of this? I still feel like I am in travel mode. So, like a shark, I have to keep moving.

Monday. On Monday I have absolutely nothing to do. I think Monday I will crash harder than the Chinese Stock Market if they used real accounting practices.

Cars Scare me More Than Planes

There is no easier way to frighten people at an Airport than to smile.

Walking around like there is nothing wrong in the world, or with a face that suggests that "today is a great day" really makes people look at you with their head cocked to the side. I believe it is because they don't trust anyone who looks like they enjoy flying. I can understand that. Flying is not exactly a pleasant experience, but it's not a bad one either.

The way I see it, there are 2 likely outcomes to any flight; Safe landing, or horrible horrible crash and death. If you are comfortable with both scenarios, flying is really really easy to handle.

Now getting into a car, where you are also just as likely to be permanently injured or crippled.... that scares me.

Coming Home

I am getting on a plane in a few hours.

I am going to be leaving this world and returning to "my" world. The USA.

India and Nepal have given me a lot. I have new things to think about, new ways to think about them, and new reasons for what I do. I have had hard times, good times, and boring times. I worked, played, and slept. I have been teacher, student, and something in between/I have people who call me friend, some call me family, and one man in Nepal considers me his Mijyu. To sum it up, I have had a life here in Asia.

The amazing part to me, is it has only been 3 months. What is 3 months? Nothing. Back home, 3 months could have passed with nothing happening at all. I would have been in a routine, just doing what I always do. Why do I do that back home? What is it about America that pacifies me? Makes me just return to my normally scheduled programming?

Well, I am not gonna do it this time. I can't. I have reaped too many benefits to just be what I was. I am healthier, happier, and smarter than I left, and I want to continue all of those things. I am not a "new" William coming home. I am the same person who just realized that I have more potential than I gave myself credit for.

Time to achieve.

Service Deficit

Today was spent running around Delhi with Biku, Govinda, and Michael. It is Biku's first trip to Delhi, and his first trip outside of Orissa. So we went to Connaught Place.

We did some shopping at the Khadi Shop. These shops were created by Gandhi to provide support to rural India by having the government purchase the "cottage" industry's goods. The government would then create shops, and sell the goods produced by rural Indians.

Imagine, for one moment, that you went to the Gap, or A&P, or any other retail store in the United States, and you were served by the exact same people who work at the Department of Motor Vehicles?

I do not have to imagine this, because I have experienced it first hand! The people working these shops do not care if ANYTHING gets sold. They are government employees, and therefore have extremely low job satisfaction, but high job security, seeing as how it is practically illegal to fire them. I shop there only because they really do have some very nice things, that you can only get there. But, if I could pay 3 times the amount and get the same item somewhere else, I would... in a heartbeat.

I Made It Safe and Sound

Today was one helluva long day.

I spent 2 hours in the Taxi in Kathmandu because of the demonstrations. By the way the riots were not that bad. It was more like parades. A little pushing and shoving, but that was as far as it got from what I saw.

My plane was then delayed another 3 hours once I arrived at the airport. So I ended up sitting in an airport lounge for about 5 hours. It wasn't so bad, except this airport lounge was playing the news. In Kathmandu that means alot of angry politicians shouting... a man can't sleep while that is happening...

Arrived in Delhi, got my bags, got in a prepaid taxi, and he got lost.

I had to tell the cab driver where to go, and he is from Delhi!!! In his defense it is a big city, and most tourists never go to Subhash Nagar. But still...

I am exhausted from a long day of doing nothing but sitting in uncomfortable positions. Time to crash on the couch, my home away from home.

Every Time I Leave Nepal There is a Riot

Ok.

I am leaving Nepal in the next few hours, and Alot of the roads are closed. I should be fine getting to the airport, but it is gonna take a while.

Wish me Luck!

Last Night at Namaste

Tonight is my last night in Nepal. I spent all day wandering around to all my favorite spots and saying goodbye to all my favorite Nepalis. At 7pm I realized I hadn't eaten yet today, so I went for one last Falaffel at my favorite lunch spot.

After that it was off to Namaste Cafe to say bye to my Mijyu (Found out that is the proper spelling) and to say good bye to all the staff there. Had a few Min's Specials and some more Cough Syrup.

I know this is a very "what I did today" post, but it's the best I have right now.

I found out that there are going to be some riots tomorrow, and a few political demonstrations. It will make getting to the airport a little more... difficult than I anticipated, but should not present a major problem.

Taxi of DOOOOOM!

I saw someone's life flash before my eyes today. It was not mine. It was the guy driving the cab I was taking back to Thamel from Bhaktipur. I thought, after watching his life before my eyes, that if he does not die in a horrible car accident while driving me back to my guest house, I am going to kill him.

I got out of his cab, mostly intact, and paid him. I then ran down the street shaking from the ordeal. My heart was pounding like I had just run the 15km from Bhaktipur to Thamel. The list of things he almost hit include:

6 Motorcycles
6 Other Taxis
5 Tuk Tuks(Nepali "Short Bus")
3 Civilian Vehicles
2 Children on Bikes
1 Large Transport Truck Filled with Chickens

The last one... I almost wanted him to hit. Cause it would have been classic "chase scene" gone wrong.

Can't have everything.

Miju

I said goodbye to Sushila today. Sushila is the office administrator at Citta Nepal. She is fantastic at her job and she recently had a son, who is extremely cute. Her husband lives and works in Dubai, so her mother helps her raise the child.

These are my final days in Nepal, and I know I am really gonna miss this place. Tonight I went to Namaste Cafe and had more cough syrup with Min, who is my Miju. Miju in Nepal means something more than best friend. The way it was described to me by Min, Miju is the person who you must listen to when he gives you advice, Miju is the person who doesn't lie to you, and Miju is the person who will always back you up. So now in Nepal, I have a Miju! It is a really great honor for someone to call you their Miju.

So I am now good friends with another club owner and another bartender. I am noticing a trend.

Grandpa's Cough Syrup Results

So I took Michael and Yeshe's advice and tried the whiskey. It worked like a charm!!! The tickle is gone. Of course I figured that because of my size, I would need to at least double the dose. I have to do that with aspirin, why not cough syrup? So I started with double the dose, then my current doctor (bartender) suggested alternative medicine. And he performed a very complex ritual which I had to participate in.

This ritual involved many medicines, which he then lit on fire. After burning the impurities from the medicine, I was then told to drink it. I did, and it also removed any tickle from my throat!

However like all cough syrups I now feel very sleepy and I think I will rest... very soundly tonight.

Grandpa's Cough Syrup

I am sick. I woke up this morning with a wicked tickle in my throat. It's this damn Kathmandu air. It is so filled with smog and soot that every breath is like sucking on a tailpipe of a greyhound bus. I have been drinking herbal Tulsi tea. It is supposed to be a super remedy for this kind of thing.

I even went and got a massage. Hoping it would force whatever was in my system to run it's course. I have taken cold medicine. NOTHING IS WORKING!!! I called Dr. Yeshe and he gave me a prescription. 60ml Whiskey. "Grandpa's Cough Syrup."

Michael also once told me that whiskey was perfect for cleaning out the throat from Kathmandu junk. So I will take my medicine like a good boy tonight before bed.

100 Posts!

Today I celebrate an arbitrary milestone in my blogging. Because of humanities obsession with 10 today I celebrate the 100th post of this blog!

Kathmandu does not lend itself to the same solitude that I experienced in Orissa. For example right now I am sitting in Java, a cafe in Thamel. There is a murmur of different languages and different types of conversations. There is the awkward "first date" discussion by some local Nepalis. I don't even need to speak their language to realize that they are definitely on a first date. In the corner there are 4 men with ties on. They are showing each other papers and different charts. It's business if I have ever seen it. There are a few of "us" NGO workers sitting by ourselves typing away on our laptops. Our addition to the noise is simply click-click.

The lights are low due to power shortages. Instead of ruining the atmosphere with florescent light, the staff have lit candles where everyone is sitting. I am hunkered down in a large leather chair with a thick, solid arm rest. My computer is to my right, and I have an iced blended coffee (no sugar) in front of me.

This environment is very starbucksian. However it is the perfect place to write my 100th post to this blog. I have successfully written a blog entry every day on my trip so far. Sometimes I post them late, but I have written every single day. I didn't think I could do it when I left the US. I thought I would do it for one week, and then forget about it. Well looks like I stuck it out.

Thanks everyone for reading and commenting. This blog has been, and will continue to be, a joy for me to write, even after I come home.

Random Encounters

Most people you meet in your life will be introduced to you through someone or something. That is to say that very rarely do you interact with someone that you have no pre-existing connection. Most of the time the new people you encounter are found when you try a new activity, begin a new job, or you are introduced by a friend who already knows that person. Sometimes it is nice to meet someone just because you happened to.

Here in Kathmandu, I have had alot of opportunities to to just meet someone. Sitting in a cafe by myself, sitting at a bar, or just walking down the street every day I have the opportunity to be met. It is something I don't do in the US. Walking down the street I am in my own world experiencing my own reality. I don't stop and say, "Hi!" to someone just because they look interesting or lost. But here, I do.

These random encounters have led me to many strange and interesting places, and forced me to talk with people I never thought I would.

These people I have met have no notion of who I am. They do not know where I am coming from. The ONLY thing they know about me is that I am in Kathmandu and so are they, and that is enough for a connection. I chat with people, and move on. Meet someone, make a connection, and leave.

Happy Mother's Day!

Every single meeting I had planned for today did not happen.

I was supposed to go to a few fashion colleges here in Nepal and talk to their career placement people, however when I got to each of the colleges, that person was unavailable, at a campus of the college, or in one case in the hospital due to an illness.

So I rescheduled these meetings for when they will be available, at this campus, and fully recovered.

So after a frustrating day I headed over to Namaste Cafe to see a few of my Nepali friends. Just as I got to Namaste, a huge hail storm started to pelt Kathmandu. The hail was only the size of dimes, but it hurt like hell nonetheless. The hail was followed by torrential rain. So, what I thought was going to be a few minutes in the Cafe turned into a few hours. I was also the only person in the Cafe apart from my friends, who happen to be the staff.

After that there was no power, so none of the Internet Cafes were open, so I was unable to call my Grandmothers/Mother to wish them a happy Mother's Day. Consider this an excuse/apology for my failure to report for grandson/son duty.

The People of Thamel

Everyone is leaving me!

Michael is heading down to India, and Dr. Yeshe is heading back up to Humla, so I am on my own in Kathmandu again. Its great!

I have between 6 and 7 days left here in Kathmandu and I think I might actually be able to do something worthwhile with that time. I am running around from morning till night, and then at night I run around a little more.

Thamel kind of feels like a giant party. Actually it feels like a few thousand small parties all happening simultaneously, in the same place. Because of this atmosphere, it is really easy to meet people here. walking down the street, it is easy to strike up a conversation with someone you have nothing in common with, except for the fact that you are both in Kathmandu.

That is enough for a lot of people. Just being in Kathmandu must mean there is something about you. Instead of going to Aruba, or a resort, you came to Kathmandu. But what does it say about you? I dunno, but I will break down my observations for you.

There are a few different types of foreigners here in Kathmandu.

The Hippie Trekker:
The Hippie Trekker's have 2 kinds of hairstyles. One style is bald. The other is weird. They usually wear baggy attempts at traditional Asian Clothes, and are often found in the many many nightclubs in Thamel stoned out of their mind. They are a very nice bunch of people, and always smile. They have a tendency to glide through the streets of Thamel aimlessly walking into shops with pretty colors or shiny objects. These Hippie Trekkers tend to drift around Asia going through Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, India, and Nepal.

The Serious Trekker:
Covered head to toe in technical equipment, these trekkers wear the kind of shirts with mosquito repellent and sunscreen built into the weave of the fabric. They are wearing hiking boots, and possibly have a bandanna tied around their neck. Their look is usually somewhere between the Crocodile Hunter and business attire. They are usually found in large groups, and the leader does most of the talking whenever the group must interact with the outside world.

The Pure Tourist:
Possibly the most fun to observe is the pure tourist. They are easy prey for the predatory street vendors of Thamel. For the most part the pure tourist is easy to spot because there is either a camera around their neck, or a fanny pack around their waist. These tourists come from all over the world and represent many different cultures, which begs the question... how did all cultures develop something as awful as the fanny pack? The other thing to note about the pure tourist, the sometimes have their children along with them. This makes them visibly nervous, and very hesitant to wander away from the main roads of Thamel.

The NGO Worker/Volunteer:
Stage 1 NGO Worker is somewhat similar to the pure tourist, however after approximately 1 week in nepal the NGO worker transitions into Stage 2. If you see someone with a jaded vacant expression sitting in a coffee shop with a computer quietly muttering to him/herself, you have located a Stage 2 NGO worker. If you see someone walking down the streets with a purpose, ignoring all the street vendors and making jokes with the Rickshaw Drivers, you have located a Stage 2 NGO worker. Whenever Stage 2 NGO workers encounter another of their kind, there is a brief exchange of small slips of paper in an attempt to foster future communication. This almost never happens, and is merely a formality. However after the paper exchange there is a brief commiseration between the Stage 2 NGO worker and then finally they remember they really need to go and do whatever it was they were trying to do.

The Ex Pat:
These people have been living in Nepal, have possibly married Nepalis, and are indistinguishable from locals except for their appearance. They come in all shapes and sizes, and are excellent conversationalists in both Nepali and whatever their native tongue happens to be. They have a tendency to cluster around others of their kind and also tend to avoid the more touristy areas.

The Nepali:
There are alot of them...

So that pretty much sums up who I encounter here every day. In case you were wondering, I am a Stage 2 NGO Worker.

How Things are Different

My life here in Thamel is the complete opposite of Orissa. In Orissa I would spend hours a day working on one project, sometimes for days at a time, trying to get everything to work. Here I run from thing to thing, constantly doing something new and interesting.

I am better suited for the latter.

On my last trip a talked alot about life here in Kathmandu, and not much has changed from then, so if you are interested you can head back through my archives and read all about the glue sniffing children.

Instead I want to talk about photographs.

Every time I take out my camera to take a picture of something, I used to feel removed from whatever was happening. It was as though all of a sudden blanket was thrown over me, and I could only see out of it through a 2 inch LCD screen. It made me very hesitant to take pictures of anything because I always felt... awkward.

Recently, I have found myself better able to take out a camera and still feel part of what is going on. I am not sure what changed in me, but I think it is because I started to figure out what kind of photo's I want to take. I used to just try to capture what it was I was seeing or experiencing in the photo. In essence I didn't want a picture, I wanted a record.

But now, I have been trying to compose my photographs. I am trying to make the photo interesting, instead of taking a photo of something that IS interesting and hoping for the best. That small little shift in the way I take pictures has given me the opportunity to actually take, well, more pictures. Most of them I delete and they will never see the light of day, but when I get the chance I will post them on my Picasa site.

Gimmie the Run Around

Today there was a Bhon. It was kinda lackluster and depressing. We were on our way back from the CItta Nepal office and the road was blocked. This happens all the time in Nepal, but I have never seen it happen like this.

It was blocked by 3 old men and 4 children. They had dragged concrete pipes into the road and were sitting there not allowing traffic to pass. It had to be the most rag tag group of rioters I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. However, out of... something (I am not sure what) Our taxi driver said the road was closed and we would have to go around. Clearly we could just drive around these people blocking the road, but he looked at me like I had just told him the sky was blue.

It's not the size of your protest, it's how you use it.

Write

Writing is an engaging creative process. Writing is a creative process. Writing is a process.

One of my teachers always said that the muscle you use to write is your butt. He demonstrated this by having us try to write while standing up. I must say he was mostly right. Everyone has something they need to do when they write. It can be as simple as turning on the part of their brain that they use to write, or it can be as complex as sacrificing a small, furry woodland creature to an ancient pagan god that has more eyes, legs, and unnamed appendages than is normally healthy. Writing is a process.

Letters. Words. Sentences. Paragraphs. Starting with the smallest atom of writing, the letter, you begin to string them together in such a way that they form words. These words are then maneuvered and carefully placed in such a manner so that they create sentences. Sentences are then lined up, hopefully in such a way that they follow each other in a proper and organized manner. Finally these sentences are grouped by common interests or theme into paragraphs. All this is possible because at some point in history humans decided that they would agree that certain shapes represented something that was in fact a representation of thought. Words are in fact a symbol something created and shared by each of us. Writing is a creative process.

We use our words to convey ideas, our very thoughts. Words allow us to tell other people what we mean. Words can be used to give someone access to the very core of our being. Words are also often difficult to tame. They are wild creatures that each human holds captive in their minds. When you use words to express yourself, you are hoping that what you say, or in this case, what you write will be understood. You distill and condense your feelings, your thoughts, into something that is accessible by others. Writing is an engaging creative process.

Safe in Kathmandu

For all those who were worried, I am safe in Kathmandu. Now I need to find a place to sleep.

Long Cinco de Mayo

6:00 AM – Wake Up, Shower, Head To Airport
7:00 AM – Reach Airport, Say my Goodbyes to Govinda, Biku, and Utkal
7:30 AM – Got through security at Bhubhaneswar Airport
8:30 AM – Plane takes off for Kolkata
9:15 AM – Food is served on the plane (inedible)
10:15 AM – Plane lands in Kolkata
11:00 AM – Finally get my bag off the conveyor belt
11:15 AM – Begin walking away from the domestic terminal in Kolkata
11:30 AM – Arrive at the international terminal in Kolkata
12:00 PM – Through Security Check, begin napping
1:35 PM – Plane begins boarding
2:00 PM – Plane takes off for Kathmandu
2:45 PM – Food is served on the plane (barely edibly)
3:30 PM – Plane lands in Kathmandu
4:00 PM – Get through Immigration and Customs, grab a taxi
4:30 PM – Arrive in Thamel, just avoiding a few riots
5:00 PM – Head to Java Café to meet Michael
5:05 PM – Watch the Riot outside Java
5:15 PM – Meet with Michael at Java
6:00 PM – Dinner at the Tibetan Restaurant that has great Enchiladas and Toungba
7:00 PM – Head to Reggae Club, find out that it was burnt down, and has relocated
7:30 PM – Leave the new Reggae Club and head to Namaste Café
7:45 PM – Thoroughly Celebrate Cinco de Mayo
10:30 PM – Thoroughly Pay the price for the celebration of Cinco de Mayo
11:00 PM – Sleep

Bad Charity

This morning I said goodbye to the people of the Hospital and School and traveled to Bhubhaneswar, the capital of Orissa. Tomorrow morning I fly to Kolkata (Calcutta) and then head up to Kathmandu.

Turns out, Kathmandu is a little crazy right now. There has been some (new) political unrest in Nepal. The Prime Minister has resigned due to some problems with the military, people are rioting in the streets, roads are blocked by burning vehicles and pits of burning tires, and there is a gas shortage. So, really, Kathmandu is just how I left it.

I spent today running around and having meetings with the big charities here in Orissa. After these meetings, I immediately took a shower, brushed my teeth, and sat in the corner hugging my knees silently mumbling to myself. These charities LOVE to talk about how much money they are spending on helping to improve the situation of the people of Orissa. However, it turns out I asked the wrong types of questions. I wanted to know what these charities actually DID. It turns out that what they DO is be charities. Well After a few hours of meetings, I now know that the situation in Orissa deserves the attention of the entire world, and they are working very hard to improve the lives of the people of Orissa through Healthcare, Education, and Economic Development. I DO NOT KNOW exactly how the hell they are actually doing it.

I think that all they do is write reports about how crappy life in Orissa is. They love to talk about how much money they are spending, but they are unable to answer what they are spending that money on.

My head hurts. I need to sleep. I have a long travel day tomorrow.

Last Dance

This is my final day here in Juanga. I have been here for over 50 days now. I have mixed emotions. I am happy to be leaving, because I have work to do up in Kathmandu, but sad because I didn’t get to finish everything I had to do here in Juanga.

Juanga has become… a home. It has a charm that I have difficulty expressing. When I leave this place I am going to be leaving a part of myself here. Hopefully it will be the part that talks to ceiling fans and stares at cows. But I know that Juanga has been good to me. It has been a wonderful place to think and reflect. It has sheltered me from the world, and given me the space I needed to work on myself as a person.

It has also taken a lot from me. Physically it has taken about 30 pounds of flesh, which I am happy to be rid of. It has taken a little bit of my sanity, but it was the kind of sanity that I can do without. It has taken my blood and sweat (lots more sweat than blood).

Juanga taught me how to think outside a box. Even though in Juanga, you can’t see the box, and there is a good chance the box does not exist. People here have a different approach to their problems, one that has helped me to realize a few things about my own approach. Here sometimes confronting things head on will only lead to your head being broken. I have learned to back into, change my angle, work around, get to the bottom of, and sometimes just plain ignore the difficulties that I face here. It has been a learning experience every moment of every day.

The Annual Function

So, I found out why it is called the Annual Function... It FEELS like it lasts for a whole year.

I was told this morning, after breakfast, that I needed to give a speech at the annual function. I was told not to worry, because I could give it in English and no one would think less of me. Well forget that, If I am going to stand in front of a crowd and be unprepared to give a speech, I am going to stand in front of a crowd and be unprepared to give a speech in a language I don't know.

Then, as I was preparing a speech in a language I don't know, I was told that I had to sign a few certificates that would be handed out to the children. I was led to the office where a pile of 570 certificates loomed ominously on the desk. So, for the next 45 minutes I signed my name. I do not think I have signed my name 570 time in my entire life. But today I did it in 45 minutes

So I wrote my speech in Oriya.

It went pretty well actually, although my speech was the final speech of the night, and I followed 4 other speakers who each took a half an hour. From what I could gather, most of their speeches were political and kinda downers. My speech was well received, although people clapped at weird times. (Probably they clapped whenever I actually pronounced a word correctly)

After my speech, I thought I was done. Boy was I wrong. Remember those 570 certificates I had to sign? Well turns out it was also my job to hand them out (Something I found out when I was called upon to actually do it). The funny part was I am 6 feet tall standing on a 3 foot high stage. The stage has no stairs, so when the students would come up for their certificate (most of them being about 3 feet tall) I would need to kneel down to give them their certificate. Well after about 200 handouts in this manner, I jumped off the stage and just started handing them out from the ground level.

The Function started around 3PM and ended at 3:30AM. Indian know how to party LONG.

The Haircut

Today was marked by a trip to Niali. It is only the second time I have spent any time in Naili, although I pass through it everytime I go anywhere away from the hospital.

My quest?

Epic.

I was going to get my haircut and a shave. Niali is, for lack of a better term, a city. It is an intersection of 2 decent sized roads, and wherever roads meet, there be commerce. So I went to the city to get a my haircut as tomorrow is going to be the Vivekananda Public School and Juanga High School of Juanga Juanga Annual Award Function, Dance Competition, and Drama. That is supposed to be said in one breath by the way.

I am the chief guest. I do not know what this means, other than I will be required to sit on a dais and smile at all the people. It is supposed to start at 2PM and end sometime just before Midnight. Although it looks like tomorrow will be a long day, I am looking forward to it!