Is the moral of the story here in Chile that everything is just in constant flux?
Much of today was not very good. Classes were tough and I was totally thrown off by a mean old bastard who threw rocks at and tried to stomp to death a kitten I had been playing with. There is a limit to which I can give cultural leeway, and trying to murder an innocent is one. I yelled at him. He grunted at me. I have to walk past his house every day on the way to school.
Bring it, old man. Next time you try to stomp a kitten to death in front of me, a fat rock is going through your kitchen window. Fair warning.
Maybe it was because I felt the need to rid myself of the bad juju that had been following me around since Saturday night that I washed and washed and washed tonight. Almost all the dishes. Didn't really bother me, especially since the warm water felt good on my hands. Gave me time to think.
Eventually my host mom said, "For the love of God, Coleen! That's enough washing! Go rest!" Seems like a complete turnaround from yesterday, right? That would be because it is. I'm beginning to let go of my need to understand and just abide in the contradictions of daily life here. Maybe I am leanring to be zen?
I feel a lot better. And the clothes I washed in the shower last night are nearly dry. Tomorrow is another day.
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