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!
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