A Normal Sunday Morning

It felt like a normal Sunday dusting the lizard poo out of my room, airing out the mattress and scrubbing the bathroom floor until it was gleaming only for tenth class to trample mud in it within five minutes - yes, they even have school on Sunday! Before breakfast Raja came rushing upstairs to tell me that Balu was cooking dosa so I should come quick. Excited at the prospect of my first cooking lesson, I rushed downstairs just in time to see Balu pour a heap of salt into the mixture - good to know that my favourite food is nice and healthy. Balu showed me how to pour the mixture on to the pan, spread it out, oil the edges, and flip it at just the right moment. It turned out to be easier than cooking pancakes because the crispness means that flipping is easy. I think the boys were impressed with my cooking (I was pretty surprised too), because after two attempts I had managed a paper thin dosa, crispy on one side, soft on the other. Next step will be mastering the batter which seems to take two or three days to prepare. It turned out that Balu doesn't like dosa and Raja had already eaten so I was left with a plateful of dosa to work my way through. Whilst I was eating and Balu was cleaning up, Raja came running in screaming like a girl, swatting madly at something, which turned out to be the largest grasshopper I have ever seen. Balu simply walked over, took the cloth, placed it over the grasshopper and threw it outside. No wonder Raja calls him 'insect boy'.

So it was strange to pack up my things, take down my mosquito net and get ready to leave.  Having realised that the sun heats the water in the bathroom throughout the day. I treated myself to a warm shower in the middle of the day, put my hair in two plaits and changed into semi Western clothes for the journey. Next thing I knew tenth class were commenting on my 'super' hair and 'super' t-shirt, and even Venkayamma madam mentioned them. People were still commenting as I walked through Tangutur to the bus stand with Balu and Raja, who was carrying my big rucksack. We squeezed into a van and as we neared Ongole an 'I'll pay. No, I'm paying. No I want to pay'  argument broke out. After deciding that the boys would pay for the van and I'd pay for the rickshaw, I realised how much I feel like an older sister figure to them. I'll miss their company over the next two weeks.

The two volunteers from Ongole, Rebecca and Kyekue, and I headed to the station, where everyone seemed to want to take pictures of the three Western girls, to catch our sleeper train to Chennai. From there we will be going straight to Pondicherry to meet two other volunteers, Leah and Kirsty. I can't wait!