Tuesday, July 13; Same Place...I don't move around much

It's too hot to do much.
Breathe.
Wear normal clothes.
Think.
Sleep.
Not be sticky.
Have hair.
Cuddle.
Want to still be here.

The weather is definitely something to get used to. I may or may not have just heard thunder clouds. I can only hope.

I'm feeling a bit tonr as to why I'm actually here. On the one hand, I know it's an incredible experience or something. On the other, I feel useless. Too small. Of no value.
Question: If something has no value, is its value zero?
Nevermind.

Josiah just gathered his hunting gear and tools to set out at night with intent of bringing back sustenance. We are having the wonderfully ethnic KFC this evening. I hear their side dishes are Indian, although.. I really want something Amurrican.

Guess those weren't thunder clouds afterall. Unless thunder sounds like large trucks and the perpetual honks of oncoming traffic.

I'm too tired to be stared at anymore and I don't like it. For the first time, I'm unable to smile or nod at anyone. I'm more annoyed and exhausted than friendly lately...and I don't like it. It's really refreshig when someone smiles back, but those seem to only come from children. I've found myself extremely friendly with the shorter crowd.

We went to the lovely Qureshi's house in South Delhi toay. Shamim was kind enough to escort us around, and show pictures of ALL his family (including the extended ones at the schools he teaches). Once we got there, I found safety in the neighborhoods. There I found some of the Western/Brit incfluenced charm of this city. Trees, huge and plenty.

One thing I've learned to accept about most (if not all) of Delhi is that nothing is ever built to last. Most sidewalks are in shambles. There are some impressive high rises, but even those have seen better (safer) days. Most store fronts are built up with cardboard scraps as overhangs, walls, and signs. Iiii don't know.

"Work In Progress." Signs saying this can be seen all over the place. They're pretty accurate, even in matters not of construction.
In the midst of all the renovations, upkeeps, tearing down and overall transience, St. Stephens stays the same. Quiet. . . except for the moving of furniture that can be heard all hours of the night. We don't really know what's going on upstairs. Yesterday, Ramnat knocked, came in my room and took a small table. No big deal. He returned in a few minutes, table in hand and smled as he put it back in it's place. He then smiled and pointed at the big desk. The desk that held all my food, books, medications, and various other things in need of a desk. I couldn't say no to that little man though. I helped him haul it out to the stairway. I suspect that desk of mine is now part of the midnight furniture moving. Do these nuns ever sleep?