| Life in the wopwops: spent some time just sitting on front porch watching ants carrying away pieces of abalone. During the week we ate at Hindi homes three times - a real treat to me, definitely not tourist fare.
Basically the same each time. We sit and chat with the student who had invited us - no one else, just him. Then we move to another building to eat by torch light. Tons of curry and roti and followed by tea.
We never ate with or saw much of the family. I tend to think it is because as teachers we are very highly respected (kind of a caste thing). |
