Week in the Life :: Day Three

Day Three was Monday.

Some things I didn't take photos of:

:: Chinua playing music.

:: Lots and lots of sorting and packing.

:: Lots of cleaning.

:: Breakfast. I keep forgetting to take photos of breakfast.

:: Lunch. Ditto.

I did take some photos of:

A portrait.

Working on light sabers.

A visit to the tailor. I've been holding onto a bunch of fabric and I realized that I really need to bring it in now, before I go! My little dream is to get a machine and start doing this myself. But for now, here I am, getting measured for a jacket.

This is a new tailor. If I was the type to cross my fingers, they would be crossed. He always seems to wear jeans and a sweater, no matter how hot it is, and he is always sweating. A rather odd guy. But he seems confident.

Notes.

After the tailor, Tina and I drove to the ATM to get some money for her, but the ATM had no money, and there's only one in the village. The fact that there's one in the village is AMAZING, but it doesn't always have money. So we decided to try the sugarcane juice across the road.

Why have I not done this before? I think they have always seemed scary to me. I had this idea in my mind that sugarcane juice was a cup of liquid sugar or something. And they are dirty sometimes. And they use local water for the ice. But it was really good. Really, really good. It tastes sweet and lemony, and like grass at the end.

That's me with some strange guy. He was asking for a photo over and over, he wanted one of his hand on the tree, but I think he might have been drinking something stronger than cane juice.

In India, everything is about sound. Sounds are so important. The sellers who walk the neighborhoods make their voices into this interesting nasal sound so that people going about their business can distinguish them from all the other sounds. And there are bells on the wheel of the sugarcane mashers, so you can hear them. I suppose over years, you hear the sound of those clanking bells and your mouth starts watering. It's like the Pied Piper of Juice, you hear the bells and you have to follow them.