I see You in every scene... I bet You are thinking about me... I have such a short memory... So You'll keep reminding me of You...
I was withdrawn.
The bus whined as it jolted down the street and I sat with a Chinese volunteer teacher rubbing my cold hands together and wishing that it would just hurry up and get there so we could hurry up and leave. Perhaps it was his gossipy way of chatting at me, or the exclamations of totally hyperbolic awe at the Tibet University campus, or his giggles when the other foreign teacher we were with was accosted by his female students, or the general atmosphere of just something different and at least slightly amusing, or the massive old leaf-less trees, or the sun warm on my back... at any rate by the end of the afternoon the two of us were practically skipping back through our school gate. I was lonely.
I glanced at the pile of student work in disarray on table in front of me, then around at my perpetually dusty, and for some reason particularly lonesome, little room and sighed. I fidgeted a little, hoping in vain that a change of posture would have an effect on my mood. Then a knock at the door. I started. Maybe I had imagined it. But then again, a clear little knock. I bounded towards the door and opened it right into neighbor's five year old daughter. Ecstatic for the company I welcomed the tiny little Tibetan girl in, stuffed her pockets with m&m's, bid her wipe her nose thick with snot, and proceeded to spend the next forty minutes or so being entertained by her stories and expressions which I could hardly understand but which were amusing nonetheless. When the hour got late, I realized, sadly, that it was time to return her to her family. I was hungry.
The weather here has finally started to have that bite to it that means the worst is yet to come and as I stared out the chilled windows onto the bleak scene outside I realized I hadn't had much of an appetite for the past two weeks. My stomach gurgled with what might have been nausea and what might have been hunger...the only certain thing was emptiness. My phone bleeped underneath scattered belongings. Within moments I was on a bus, headed to a steak house to eat what easily counts as the best meal in weeks with a monk friend I haven't seen in longer. When we were so stuffed we could barely move he shuffled over to pay the bill... then insisted we go to see a 4-D short film about dinosaurs, which I didn't believe existed until I was being sprayed with fake snow while a pterodactyl from the screen leapt out at me. As I waved goodbye to my friend from the bus I slid down into the lumpy seat, full. I was forgotten.
I stomped my feet on the hard ground to warm them as I marched over to the mail office where the lady takes an obscene pleasure in telling me that there isn't any mail for me. I slid the door open without my characteristic expectancy, took a short breath before forcing myself inside. No less than five package slips lay in the otherwise empty desk drawer, all with my name. With glee I signed off on them all and later opened the boxes to reveal a truly exciting amount of Christmas gifts to give to students, staff, and friends, generosity which reached across the world... not to mention a wealth of things for myself. I baked a box of pumpkin bread and wished only to be closer to the delicious scent... or closer to the home from which it all came. I was hollow.
Feeling like my insides had been scraped out with a rusty spoon I walked out to the school gate to pay a phone bill that was as bare as old mother hubbard's cupboard. There at the gate four filthy beggar children who had been conspicuously absent of late wrestled, giggled, went about the seemingly carefree task of creating dirt. When they saw me they immediately jumped to their feet, stood in order by height, and asked as politely as beggars can if I would go shopping with them today. So we filed over to a nearby vendor and I laughed as they deliberated amongst themselves over which item they should ask to buy, the process looked as serious as a United Nations meeting. A piece of chicken, bowl of jello, pack of fruit roll ups, and box of cakes later and we parted ways. I grinned at the baffled shopkeeper and marveled at how much can come out of nothing. I was despondent.
Class can become not only frustrating but tedious quickly when the students spend more effort on looking bored than on whatever task has been placed before them. I trudged away letting the door swing wildly behind me as I left the empty room. One student waited for me in the dimming sun. He rushed to my side and sputtered I have a secret, did you get my letter? I sent you a letter, it is I went to English corner and we wrote thank you letters on thanksgiving and we could only write one and I wrote it to you so many things and I read it to all the English corner because you are my so good teacher, I want it to be a so big surprise but now I told you but it doesn't matter... I stopped, transformed by the news, it was my turn to be grateful. I see You in every scene... I bet You are thinking about me... I have such a short memory... So You'll keep reminding me of You...
