day 90 something...

so day 90 something in my travels. at some point this stopped being a trip and began being my life. i feel so out of touch with things back in america. i still am missing my loved ones, but as all humans i have adapted and am enjoying my life as it is. right now too there is little but amazment in my every day.
dance is coming. slowly slowly. i find that i am quick to catch on to things but slow to perfecting, although nothing in life ever reaches perfection, its just not the nature of life.
i am finding my routine to be pleasently simple yet physically demanding almost to a point of breaking for me. i still want to cry in the cold mornings, to early to get out of bed, to cold to get out of bed. which of the three outfits should i wear? what doesn't stink? can i shower today? when will i have time to do laundry?
walk to the studio drink my morning fresh juice at the juice stand, go for my morning chai at the chai stand, go to the studio, more chai. enough chai to fill the oceans inhabits my body. my blood is a thick masala choursing through my veins, pumping into my feet and behind my eyes to make my dance full of spice. then warm-ups and stepping. my feet won't slap. it seems like such a childish noise, i can do it stading still as if i'm waiting for a bus, but as soon as i'm in dance choka the sound is taken away from me. i still pound the pavement and try to ignore the pain that has yet to leave my feet. dancing dancing dancing. then a break for breakfast, rice and bananas.
i used to hate bananas, the small made me want to puke, but suddenly now i can't get enough. i eat bananas like i drink chai. after bananas more class. i am learning the first dance, today i reached the end of it. i picked it up quickly but now my brain tries to reassemble it in a different order. we argue about this, my brain and i, but i am beginning to win. yesterday i was thrown in with our lovely singing man and the drum at full swing, i have to say i wasn't quite up to the challange, but i was so distracted by our singers voice i suddenly felt shy to be dancing in front of a small audience and my feet forgot their patterns.
after that then a break. one girl right now is very sick so we have been taking turns visiting her, she has some sort of parasite...nasty, but on her way to recovery.
after a break then another class, dancing alittle more, music theory, mudras, eye patterns, head patterns, neck patterns, hindu stories, and now voice lessons. yes yes i'm learning to sing in hindi. maybe after two months i will be able to carry a tune. after that it is late. maybe some dinner, maybe not. lately i have been having to duck past this rich brahmin boy that wants to "touch my soul" for me. unfortunatly he owns a shop between my school and my guesthouse so it's a little hard not to at least stop and chat for a few minutes. damn my upbringing. i never learned to be rude to strangers, something that i think is becoming a necessity in india. the art of blowing someone off, i always feel so bad, but for such a sexually repressed society the indian boys won't say the word "sex" but they are very pushy in a charming manner with forgien girls, i have to say i don't quite know how to deal with it.
mostly i smile and ignore them and make excuses not to talk to them.
but life is good, despite the cold. tomorrow is sunday and i can sleep in, wear my western clothes, and wash my dance clothes, these have become the simple pleasures in my life.
i can't believe it is almost january. i feel like i have been gone for a moment but also an eternity. i am consumed with dance and imagine the rest of my stay here will fly by to too quickly.
i am reaching frustration levels easily. i blame so day 90 something in my travels. at some point this stopped being a trip and began being my life. i feel so out of touch with things back in america. i still am missing my loved ones, but as all humans i have adapted and am enjoying my life as it is. right now too there is little but amazment in my every day.
dance is coming. slowly slowly. i find that i am quick to catch on to things but slow to perfecting, although nothing in life ever reaches perfection, its just not the nature of life.
i am finding my routine to be pleasently simple yet physically demanding almost to a point of breaking for me. i still want to cry in the cold mornings, to early to get out of bed, to cold to get out of bed. which of the three outfits should i wear? what doesn't stink? can i shower today? when will i have time to do laundry?
walk to the studio drink my morning fresh juice at the juice stand, go for my morning chai at the chai stand, go to the studio, more chai. enough chai to fill the oceans inhabits my body. my blood is a thick masala choursing through my veins, pumping into my feet and behind my eyes to make my dance full of spice. then warm-ups and stepping. my feet won't slap. it seems like such a childish noise, i can do it stading still as if i'm waiting for a bus, but as soon as i'm in dance choka the sound is taken away from me. i still pound the pavement and try to ignore the pain that has yet to leave my feet. dancing dancing dancing. then a break for breakfast, rice and bananas.
i used to hate bananas, the small made me want to puke, but suddenly now i can't get enough. i eat bananas like i drink chai. after bananas more class. i am learning the first dance, today i reached the end of it. i picked it up quickly but now my brain tries to reassemble it in a different order. we argue about this, my brain and i, but i am beginning to win. yesterday i was thrown in with our lovely singing man and the drum at full swing, i have to say i wasn't quite up to the challange, but i was so distracted by our singers voice i suddenly felt shy to be dancing in front of a small audience and my feet forgot their patterns.
after that then a break. one girl right now is very sick so we have been taking turns visiting her, she has some sort of parasite...nasty, but on her way to recovery.
after a break then another class, dancing alittle more, music theory, mudras, eye patterns, head patterns, neck patterns, hindu stories, and now voice lessons. yes yes i'm learning to sing in hindi. maybe after two months i will be able to carry a tune. after that it is late. maybe some dinner, maybe not. lately i have been having to duck past this rich brahmin boy that wants to "touch my soul" for me. unfortunatly he owns a shop between my school and my guesthouse so it's a little hard not to at least stop and chat for a few minutes. damn my upbringing. i never learned to be rude to strangers, something that i think is becoming a necessity in india. the art of blowing someone off, i always feel so bad, but for such a sexually repressed society the indian boys won't say the word "sex" but they are very pushy in a charming manner with forgien girls, i have to say i don't quite know how to deal with it.
mostly i smile and ignore them and make excuses not to talk to them.
but life is good, despite the cold. tomorrow is sunday and i can sleep in, wear my western clothes, and wash my dance clothes, these have become the simple pleasures in my life.
i can't believe it is almost january. i feel like i have been gone for a moment but also an eternity. i am consumed with dance and imagine the rest of my stay here will fly by to too quickly.
i am reaching frustration levels easily. i blame