My mother wants me to put in a little more context of where I am, and I thought that was reasonable... so- I share a spacious apartment on the second floor with Viji, a fifty-seven year-old social worker. She makes the most delicious dhosas (I must post one of her recipes) and treats each of her patients as a member of the family. Every night we sit out on the deck slurping mangoes or just look at the moon. In the district of Namakkal there are about 1.5 million people. The horn-honking is incessant, and I have to make a very conscious effort not to get run over crossing the street. If not walking, I love riding on the back of the doctors' motorcycles when we go to see patients at the government hospital- maybe that joy comes from having ridden on the back when my dad rode a motorcycle.
Today we started the anemia testing and ate lunch in the school lunchroom. Everything about the lunchroom seemed like it could have been in the US, but the one difference was that we ate our meal on giant, green banana leaves instead of plates. In many ways, Indians are so much more ecological.
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