Somewhere

Kanglung is the most bustling place Scott and I have ever lived together. There’s a primary school, a secondary school, a college, a monastic school, and lots of shops. Today when Scott and I were walking around we noticed a lot more activity – students are coming back to college. There are many taxis with young people inside, the tops of vehicles are loaded with boxes, suitcases. Cars are dropping people off with rice cookers, tea kettles. I couldn’t help but reminisce about my first day at Trinity – that feeling of newness, excitement, nerves. Moving my stuff in with my mom, getting help from a student named Oliver when we moved the fridge and TV three flights up. Making a room one’s own. That’s what Scott and I are doing. Making our home our own.

We bought more house stuff – a water boiler, two mats for the floor, a frying pan. I spent the morning organizing more – putting things “away.” I put some pictures up – Wrangell; my mom; Scott, Kevin and I with fish. I spent the rest of the day cooking and then school planning. I’m learning as I go how to be a teacher – an even more real one. Planning because before you know it, I’ll be too busy doing. Scott spent all day in front of the computer. We’re both trying hard.

I love walking outside. The action of leaving the big, cold house – stepping out the front door, closing the screen door behind, and walking out into Bhutan where there’s always someone working, whether it’s on the farm, on a tractor, or someone walking, carrying something heavy. Or else school kids who smile and giggle when I say hi, young men with gelled hair, those boys who roll the thin rubber wheels, older women wearing full kiras chewing doma, small groups of Indian workers, or student monks – people going somewhere.