Ayubowan to you and good morning.
Finally, after four days of rain, clouds, rain, thunder, lightning, rain and more rain the sun has, at long last, decided to grace us with its presents. It is currently 85 degrees, a slight breeze is ruffling the tops of palm trees and blue sky abounds. Perf.
Monday was Monday. A combination of sleep deprivation and awful weather is not conducive to a good mood and I nearly gave in to the temptation of being a slightly pathetic Christmas grouch. This plan was vetoed however, by a call from one of my besties, Peronie, a swim in a thunderstorm and a festive bout of Christmas cookie baking with my dear mother and Steph (Kristians girlfriend we're talking here, just to clarify that I am, in fact, not talking about myself in the third person) with a mix of Point of Grace, Amy Grant and John Legend playing backup. We thereafter made our way to Trinity Chapel for my old high school's annual carol service. This was very pleasant and we have now solidly established that Kristian has grown and I have not. Meeting old teachers consisted of a respectful kiss on both cheeks (this is the Sri Lankan handshake) and “Kristian, darling, my, you have gotten so tall” followed by looking down at me, slight pause and then “Just the same.”
The last two days have dawned gloriously sunny, with dad, who is, in general, too chipper in the morning for his own good, happily waking us up at 7 to power walk around the block. Power walking around the block is one thing when it is 50 degrees outside and flat. It is something else when it is 80 degrees and about as flat as the rockies. No matter, the ensuing exhaustion was put to rights by good coffee and recovery was quick.
Upon our principal’s request, we visited our old stomping grounds: Colombo International School, Kandy – premise for many a childhood tale of cutting class to hop three-wheelers into town, stints in detention and shop lifting from the tuck shop. Upon entering his office, I was met with the unexpected but absolutely wonderful sight of none other than my dear old classmates Nicholas and Buddhini. We stood there staring blankly at each other for a second trying to comprehend the situation and then a robust reunion ensued. We went to the closing assembly, revisited our old classrooms, sat around wasting time in the library (just like old times!), watched a staff vs. students cricket match and bought chocolate milk from the tuck. I now realize why I have the immune system of a rock...the good Lord only knows how many bacteria were swimming around in that bottle. It’s probably what makes it the best chocolate milk in the world.
That afternoon was kicked off with a high-spirited reunion with of my dearest friends Zaynab, to the tune of Backstreets Back blaring through the halls of Kandy’s new city centre. Fueled by this favorite childhood dance number, the yells were perhaps louder than were necessary and security was alerted much to our dismay. As they approached however, we made our stealthy get away, met up with a bunch of other friends and escaped to the Casamara hotel where we took our afternoon tea at their roof top café. Truly, it was an eventful afternoon.
Dancing. If I had a few shreds less common sense and didn’t enjoy school as much as I do, I would pack my bags, move to Argentina and become a dancer. As it stands however, salsaing at dance class is the next best thing and thankfully, it comes pretty dang close. What with attempting to gracefully switch between Quickstep, Cha-cha, Sarrock, Jive and Salsa, and pretending to remember a Cha-cha routine we learned years ago, my body just about attained the shape of a pretzel. I think the last time I sweated that much was climbing Mt. St. Helens.
There was something alive on my foot. It is now gone which means it is now on my bed…which is fittingly sporting a safari-print comforter. I am going to go investigate because I can think of many things I would rather wake up to than a gecko or a spider of astronomical size.
Never a dull moment.