Entry tags:
Two small things
When I travel, it's always the small differences that are most surprising to me. I expect the cows on the streets and different food and not knowing the language.
Two small things:
* We went to the markets on the weekend. I enjoyed walking around: the smell of different fruit and vegetables, all of the colours, lots of things to point at and ask: "what's that? how about that?" I didn't notice at first, but each stall had a thick rope hanging over the fruit and vegetables. I started to pay attention to them when I saw one or two of the stallholders hanging on to them, and wondered if they were there to help with lots of standing up. And then a boy at one of the stalls near us grabbed a couple and used them to swing over the baskets of vegetables in front of them. There didn't seem to be another way to get out of the stall, with everything stacked up in the front. The boy picked something up, and swung back. It looked so practiced and fluid.
* Here, eggs seem to count as "non-veg". When I asked some of my vegetarian friends if they ate eggs, they looked at me like I was crazy. (Happily, this fits in well with the fact that I feel fairly comfortable having milk here, especially the milk we get to the house from the neighbourhood cows, but not eggs so much.)
In other news, I have been writing some stuff on my grown up blog. Much of it is probably not super-interesting to you, but maybe some of it is? It's hard to tell, really.
Two small things:
* We went to the markets on the weekend. I enjoyed walking around: the smell of different fruit and vegetables, all of the colours, lots of things to point at and ask: "what's that? how about that?" I didn't notice at first, but each stall had a thick rope hanging over the fruit and vegetables. I started to pay attention to them when I saw one or two of the stallholders hanging on to them, and wondered if they were there to help with lots of standing up. And then a boy at one of the stalls near us grabbed a couple and used them to swing over the baskets of vegetables in front of them. There didn't seem to be another way to get out of the stall, with everything stacked up in the front. The boy picked something up, and swung back. It looked so practiced and fluid.
* Here, eggs seem to count as "non-veg". When I asked some of my vegetarian friends if they ate eggs, they looked at me like I was crazy. (Happily, this fits in well with the fact that I feel fairly comfortable having milk here, especially the milk we get to the house from the neighbourhood cows, but not eggs so much.)
In other news, I have been writing some stuff on my grown up blog. Much of it is probably not super-interesting to you, but maybe some of it is? It's hard to tell, really.