so yesterday was korite, meaning the end of ramadan and the first day we could eat regularly. it was okay. i am officially part of the village and fully participated in preparations. they had me do a lot of cooking -- peeled all the potatoes and onions, diced them (without a cutting board or a sharp knife), and then helped hack up the share of (freshly slaughtered) beef we bought from the village. good thing i'm not squeamish (or a vegetarian) because it was a messy and bloody affair that not all would be able to handle. it was slippery, bloody, gristly, and i found myself elbow deep in bloody water cleaning off unidentifiable bits of meat of marrow, dirt, and bits of bone. in the end, the food wasn't even good, despite the eager wait. it was really salty and somehow both tough and mushy at the same time. i suppose the thing that i liked about ramadan was that it alleviated me from the pressures of eating three meals of food that i'm not really the biggest fan of. i can't wait for thanksgiving in america when the food will actually match (probably exceed) the anticipation.
i've been so bored lately and my mind's been wandering to ideas of vacations or the next place i'll live. life here has recently been so mind-numbingly monotonous -- both at site and out of site. i realized last ngiht that this newfound boredom is because everything's finally nromal t me now. the adventure in things is gone and there's little left to discvoer. life has become unvaried because teh wide-eyed thrill of living in a new country and culture as a PCV has just become, well, regular life.
as frustrating as it once was to be confused, in the dark, unsure, and new to everything, i miss the feeling of novelty and adventure and exhaustion from the overload of new experiences. when i wasn't surprised by a single thing during the day of korite, i realized that now, i can practically predict what's going to happen.
i know that i should appreciate the normalcy and adjustment i have reached but the problem with being a romantic is that the feelings of awe and inspiration that so quickly overwhelm the heart, just as rapidly sour and fade. we disdain those with little fervor and stale passion but our fickle hearts keep us from a staple state of content.
then again, it's probably just a stage and the adjustment pains of the work season being over and finding myself with no trees to work with or anything to do. time to get cracking on initiating secondary projects. or maybe i just need a vacation...