Well, since that letter I’ve had another interesting experience. Went to a birthday party for a 16 year-old and the whole neighborhood came. Turns out—at your party you still serve the men first, and when each of them has food, you serve the women. Then you and your friends sit down Cinderella-style to eat the more plentiful foods (no fruits/vegetables) in the back room of the kitchen. I hate men here. I find myself falling into the same patterns.
Today was pretty enjoyable. My mother made fresh bread, which involves sticking your arms literally inside an oven and sticking dough to a wall. It hangs there and cooks! We all sat around and scarfed fresh bread and talked about our visiting half-crazy grandma. She can’t hear so someone always has to get up and yell right in her ear to answer her questions. While I was sewing once she asked me to mend something quick and then patted me on the head and kissed my cheek in thanks upon completion. I don’t think she really knows who I am though!
I’m used to the food again and haven’t been as sick as some other people. I’ve been annoyed with my American group-mates for various reasons, but I’m starting to see that’s inevitable. It’s how you deal with it that counts.
Well, I’m off to sleep. This will be dropped in the mail on the 3rd, so you’ll be seeing it hopefully before Thanksgiving!
[Rec’d 11/20]
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