Life on a mountain in India

Well, we celebrated our 5 month anniversary yesterday!!  We celebrated by looking at video clips and pictures of our wedding, reminiscing about our long and storied marriage.  Ok, maybe not long, but we do have a few stories so far.  Speaking of stories, it's fun to have people over to the house and hear about their life journey.  The other day we had some people over to celebrate the life of our friend Chrissy (it was her birthday).  Though the rain put a damper on our bonfire, it didn't mess with the great food and conversations we had under our roof.  Speaking of roofs, we're so thankful for our house.  Lots of people around here don't have much of one and we're really blessed to have a great one.  Hopefully it can be a place of peace and refuge and acceptance for anyone who needs it.

Speaking of refuge (this email is all about tying everything together by saying "speaking of"), I (Kyle) have been creating a vegetable refuge in our backyard known to most as a garden.  I've found that I actually miss manual labor, and it has given me joy to get out and get sweaty and dirty, making manly grunts every so ofte

n.  A lot of my work involves being in an office, and if you know me, you probably know that this kind of thing won't satisfy for the rest of life.  But for now, it's serving its purpose.  Anyway, back to the garden.  Our maid, Selvie, saw me working in the backyard, and she started scolding me, claiming the work was too hard for me and that she would call a gardener to come and do it.  I know she's just trying to protect me, but I tried to explain that I like it and that it feels good to get dirty.  She didn't underst

and.  To her a white person shouldn't 

be doing manual labor like that.  I also get weird looks from the neighboring workers who work at the small motel behind our house.  They stare at m

e, and I smile.  I'm not an 

expert at Indian culture, but I think it could be a couple things.  For one, the caste system is still in place, though not officially.  You're born into a certain caste and you're expected to do certain jobs and not do certain jobs.  I hope my perspective doesn't offend anyone, but I just don't see anyone being able to make a good case that this system isn't still here (though I admit to still knowing very little).  As a westerner coming here, I'm seen as a job opportunity for someone who does certain jobs, like gardening.  So when I get out in the backyard and work, it's not only a strange sight, but job-threatening as well.  Hmmm...It's a hard thing, trying to promote equality by your lifestyle (having no problem getting dirty or helping the maid do the dishes), and also support gardeners who need all the money they can get for their family.  So, in that social context, I decide to get my shovel and bucket and walk the street picking up fresh horse and cow manure for my garden (I eventually met this guy on the street who offered to deliver some nice soil/fertilizer to my house for a good price).  People were staring at me so hard, and I just tried to smile everything off.  I had a few people take a picture of me with their camera phones.  So I smiled.  At least they have a picture of a smiling white guy picking up cow manure instead of a scowling one.  One of the many things that I learned from my Dad is that it's always better to smile.

Speaking of smiling for random peoples' pictures, Lynea and I had just finished our tandem bike ride around the lake (more on that later), when these guys walked up beh

ind me, stood there waiting patiently for us to finish our conversation and then asked if they could have their picture with me.  I asked if it was because I was white, and he said yes.  I obliged, and now I'm forever in some random person's photo album, probably known as the tall, skinny, white guy they met in Kodaikanal.  Lots of westerners are bitter about all the attention they draw from the locals: the pictures, the stares, the laughs and shouts as we walk by.  I've tried to embrace it, just smiling my best smile and saying hi, answering their questions (sometimes in the gibberish language I make up as I go...this always confuses them and one guy even asked if I was from france, to which I replied in my own language that he and I both didn't understand).

Oh yes, the bike ride.  The school had a long weekend last week (wednesday to sunday), but we still had some weekend chaperoning responsibilities like the "around the lake bike ride."  Let me first say that riding a bike in India is life-threatening.  Secondly, the rental bikes aren't guaranteed to work when you need them to.  Lastly, the only bike they had left for us was a tandem bike.  It's kinda like driving a 15 passenger van when you're used to a Ford Fiesta.  Great fun!!  Thankfully, no one was seriously hurt.

And now for my better half...

Well that's a hard act to follow!!! But I'll try to keep your attention just as much.  I have come to realize that I LOVE teaching and LOVE LOVE LOVE my kids....and I tell them that every day!  Currently we are doing a read-a-thon fundraiser for a nearby village school called Kombai.  Kombai has 105 students, 55 of whom are boarding kids. They have no bathrooms, no clean water, no cafeteria/auditorium/room big enough for them all to meet, small classrooms with tiny hand held slates to learn from, and to top it all off, the boarding kids sleep on the ground in the grade 1/2 room.  Our elementary school has done some outreaches there in the past and our 5th graders decided they wanted to get clean water, bathrooms, a covered court and a playground for the children at Kombai. SO.....we are doing a read-a-thon for the month of October raising money for this school.  My students are doing amazing in their reading!! One of my students had read 1,054 pages over long weekend!! She's 8 years old!!  My students are motivated youngster who really want to help.  My class is being sponsored by my church back home, but if you still would like to donate, let me know!!!  

Speaking of long weekend, I p

ainted again!! This time I tackled the bedroom (see picture). It was fun, although my maid was here that day and kept trying to tell me not to stand on the dresser because I might fall.  Thank God she didn't see Kyle standing on two chairs stacked on top of a table.  She would have had a heart attack.  Now we have a nice picture to look at when we wake up each morning. 

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