Let it rain...

My dearest cousin sent me an email reminding me that I haven't been that good in keeping in contact. I am sorry. I will give you a little background why. I have been working about 70 hour weeks. I am absolutely loving it, but it has seriously impacted my time for personal stuff. I am actually writing this right now while the class is having a time of discussion in between teachings. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. It's just the way that it is.

Yesterday we got our first rain. It is interesting to be in the Middle East and experience rain. The smell most of all, reminded me of home. It wasn't all nostalgic though. Imagine a place that is extremely dirty and dusty, where there aren't things like 'street cleaners' and the 'hygiene' okay.. it's not that bad. The stone sidewalks are literally black with dirt. Then imagine what happens when it rains. Gross. Some of the students were standing musing at the rivers of water flowing down the sidewalk when a car drove and maybe by accident, probably not, totally soaked them with what smelled like raw sewage water. Gross. That raw sewage smell is not what reminds me of home, by the way. It is the smell of rain.

Last night I got in a fight with one of the students. Not in a bad way. In a brother way. I was sitting in a plastic chair there in the kitchen after a long day playing a small toy drum. One of the students that I really like came up and sat down next to me and said, 'Hey, lemme see that drum.' So, of course, I hold it up and ask him what color it is. After he responds, I tell him that he has seen it and begin playing it again. Ignoring him. So he play pushes me, and restates his desire to play the drum. Now, I am not sure if you have ever had this kind of helpless feeling or not, but I felt myself falling over, and could do nothing about it but wait for the ground to come up and meet me. The cheap plastic leg of the chair folded under me and I went down. Then in all his compassion the student jumps on me and starts punching me. I punch back and then grab a wet towel and a towel fight ensued. I won of, of course. I ended up with a gash on his foot and another on his leg. I have but a mere welt on my arm which is already gone.

As you can probably tell from what I have written, my life is pretty consumed by the students. I want to communicate more, so please follow the example of my dearest cousin and remind me if I start to slack off. Thanks.