My sophomore year of college, I took a women’s studies class. One particular topic, which happened to be my favorite, was about a woman’s need to bitch… Pardon my French; however, for any woman that is reading this, you know at times this is so true. HOWEVER, the second part to the topic surrounds the fact that men, many times, don’t understand this complex necessity of bitching, instead they want to give us solutions to our problems… What we, or shall I say I, (since I don’t know how all women feel), need is a man to listen without offering his solutions….Not that solutions are bad things, but when a woman really needs to get it out of her, one of the ways to do it is the traditional bitch session…With this said, yesterday I was in need of one of these sessions, but unfortunately, I was lacking on the extra estrogen and couple of pairs of this and that which would be needed for this. I have two guy roommates, and while this is not a bad thing, which believe me it isn’t….It can be a little depressing when one needs some bitch relief only to have to hold it in… Not to mention there was a scarcity of chocolate, Lifetime, and/or bubbles and a tub. AND if I did decide to include them in some female bonding, I think I would scare them to the next plane out of
- Jesus died for me on the cross…
- I woke up today.
- I had bathing water (even though it was ice cold and in a bucket!!!)
- We had a perfectly clear blue sky for the first time since coming to
- I actually ate some Indian food that I liked at dinner.
- We were able to access the internet
- We didn’t get ripped off for the fare on the rickshaw (a first!)
- Matt and Phil paid for the rickshaw
- I had two somewhat normal roommates…. (wink, Matt and Phil)
- I can always count on God loving/liking me no matter what crazy stuff I do.
I will admit, this didn’t extinguish all my flames, but I learned something in this exercise. Want to know what that is? I learned that sometimes the best thing to do instead of totally freaking out on someone is to breathe and call a 1-800 number and take it out on them….Okay, being more serious, I learned that sometimes the people we love love us the only way they know how. Maybe it isn’t the way we want it, maybe it pisses us off, but at the end of the day the only way to look at it, is pure and simple love. Isn’t it crazy how so many of us spend our whole lives pissed off at those who love us the most? One of the reasons God didn’t give man a dictionary is so that he could figure out life’s meanings for himself. I think the definition of love is much like this….Love is what you make of it, but no matter what, it is there, you just have to really look and it is there…..
Just so my recounting doesn’t mess you up date wise, I am writing for two days worth of life experiences. Today was Valentine’s Day, and when I woke up, I remembered that my dad used to buy my sisters and I candy and cards….I was never without some good Valentine’s day candy when I lived at home….Oh the good ole days! (Violins playing) Considering the near inferno I had last night, I was in some real need of chocolate therapy. All I could think about was my grandma Shirley’s Texas sheet cake with my mom’s homemade chocolate frosting, and here it was Valentine’s day and not only did I not get Dad’s Valentine, but I had no damn chocolate. However, Winnie, the woman of my heart, came to my rescue! I had told her a couple days ago that I would like to make a chocolate cake, and when we arrived at her house this morning, she had all the ingredients I needed to make my grandma’s famous
After our lunch, Winnie and I scrambled over to Ekta Vihar to meet with the women and children at Asha Setu. We are finalizing the details for the services we will offer to the women. We have consulted with many people in the textiles and trades industry trying to find resources in which we can tap into to help provide some economic relief to these families in Ekta Vihar. As I have stated in a previous blog, these women will sacrifice anything to see their children live a better life. So far, the women want to learn how to make clothes, quilt, embroider, and beauty care. Winnie and I are working on trying to get local business owners to donate anything they can to help us with getting this show in the road. Between preparing for this conference and opening up Asha Setu, we are crazy busy. There are only six full-time people working between the two projects we have cooking in
So, after we got all of this sorted out in our meeting with the women, Winnie had one of our men bring a plastic box with little rolled up pieces of chocolate. The women and children eyed the box hungrily as one of the older women in the group distributed it out to open hands. As Winnie and I began to pack our stuff to leave, we noticed an argument going on over the box. I assumed that they were fighting over the candy, so I ignored it and left it to them to figure out. Yet, the argument continued to go on as we left, “why are they fighting over the candy, there is only three pieces, and they are so small?” I asked Winnie. She couldn’t figure it out either as is was such a small amount, but then, as if a light went off in her head she said, “ they are not fighting over the candy, they are fighting over who gets to keep the plastic box. Plastic boxes are precious commodities here in the slums. They are great to store food in without the animals and insects getting to it.” I was silent for the whole way back to the flat. I kept hearing the saying my dad always used when trying to explain to my mother why she shouldn’t throw out his beloved junk, “one man’s junk, is another man’s treasure.” Dad, if you are reading this, I couldn’t agree more .~K
1 comment:
i really miss you kathleen? why don't you ever answer my emails?
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