Last night, post-posting, I went out to karaoke with some of the AYAD crew at a place called Carole King. Great times, some people could actually sing, while I belted out tone-def notes on such tunes as “turn around”- Janet Jackson “killing me softly”-Fugees, and even “Africa”-Toto*. I managed to slip in some beatboxing here and there, and their mic was on a subtle echo, so the beatboxing was extra fun – made me want to get back into performing on le stage.
This morning was fun times: Jarnah came over, and we went out hunting and gathering food for breakfast. We ended up buying some coconuts and walnut bread, and having egg-in-a-hole as prepared by my faja. We also had croissants – it was definitely a brunch, and very enjoyable, enjoyable that is, besides my clumsiness. I dropped a jar of jam, spilling the contents all over the floor, AND dropped a plate while washing it. While the first was definitely bad because I then had to clean up the glass and jam (and have less jam to eat), the second was alright because the plate didn’t break, and I was relieved of dishwashing duties!
Let talk about this dishwashing business for a second: the small Cambodian foot is, believe it or not, attached to a similarly small Cambodian body. This means that the architecture and construction will be tailored to a certain height, and ultimately, that our sink sits below my waist. So, you can imagine, doing dishes actually becomes difficult – like, I can bend down and do them, but after a while my back aches, so I stand up straight to ease it up…and when you’re holding a soap-slicked plate up so high above the sink, you tend to tempt fate and gravity to team up and take their revenge on so odious an ignorance of their laws. So far I haven’t broken anything, but I need to change my dish-doing pattern so as to pay my respects to both gravity and fate, and soap.
The Children’s class is developing. Avuth helped me find a khmer version of Ruhi book 3, so that I can present the kids with the quotes and ideas (and even instructions for games) in khmer. Thanks broseph. Tomorrow we’re doing another lesson on the heart, and, seeing as how I was once known as Ashraf the Blackhearted, it should prove to be an interesting class.
*this one was for you Hormz.
2 comments:
Why were you known as Ahsraf the Blackhearted?
Also you should send me some of your music, cause I myself have been practising for beatboxing.
Ah, I was first called "Ashraf the Balckhearted" when I riuthlessly killed a man for calling me "Ashraf Red-Beard"... this was all back when I started the Somali pirate movement. I may one day write my autoboigraphy, but for now, lets focus on the present.
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