January 8, 2012
It is cold here in K-town. Crazy cold. Sit-in-your-bones-and-make-you-beg-for-mercy-cold. The kind of cold that freezes people’s toothpaste, and olive oil, in their homes. The kind of cold that sends a crying child back in from recess, to beg his teacher to be allowed to skip playtime. His teacher cannot help but give in, and allows him to hold his frighteningly white hands over the bukhari.
I had my Kindergarten art class do a winter scene this morning, to go along with their current unit on snow. It almost felt cruel to focus on the source of what we all already focus on, in spite of our efforts to distract ourselves from the ever-present reality of bone-deep chill.
So this is it, I find find myself thinking: this is what I was warned about before moving here. I understand now. I understand.
But there is a comfort in the knowledge that we all struggle together here. As it always is with hardship, great solace is found in the knowledge that you are not alone, that someone else understands. So we fight the battle together. And in the midst of it, we find small pleasures: at the moment, for me, this is the peace at the end of the day, sitting with a hot water bottle and listening to joy-bringing music.
Now that my camera has found its way back to its happy home, I snagged an evening photo jaunt today. I no longer get the sunrises, as the business of the day has begun by the time the sun is rising. But the sunset tonight was mine . . . beautifully mine, if the kind of sight that I wish I could just see without feeling :-)