FU DT

On the morning of November 9, as yet ignorant of the disaster that had befallen the US, indeed the whole world, I awoke to a smaller, domestic disaster, here in Tissamaharama. Stirred by an unusual amount of noise & activity for 5 am, I opened the back door, headed for the outhouse, and found D’s parents standing hands on hips and staring at what had, the night before, been their kitchen. Heavy rains that night had proven too much for the spindly rotten poles, wire,  mud bricks, twine, and rusted out sheet metal that held the structure together, and it had collapsed completely.
In a few hours, we had cleared and sorted the debris, rescued what pots and dishes and stored water bottles we could, all of us covered in sweat and soot.  I caught Rani’s eye numerous times, and she smiled, laughed even, at the crazy randomness of it all.
In another few hours, Dinesh and his father had leveled the ground, breaking up and spreading the clay bricks to form a flattish new patch of ground.We expected to be bringing food in for several days, but after I brought in some egg buns for everyone’s breakfast, Rani set to work, and by mid-afternoon had constructed a raised platform covered with a piece of sheet metal, upon which she arranged bricks to form a cooking fire. Lunch for everyone cooked and served up by 2 pm! (You CANNOT keep a good woman down…!)
November 10, the day of my departure, was a little less laughter-filled. Many many tears and heartfelt exclamations, the words of which I did not understand, but the sentiment was obvious. It was a heavy morning; goodbye to the puppies, D’s parents, and taking in the belated news that the Unthinkable had really happened half way around the world, on November 8.


I dedicate this post to the resilience, creativity, and unstoppable nature of women. A picture of Rani and what used to be her kitchen, her new cooking fire, and Tissa, who made the best of it by digging a new sleeping hole! 
F.U., Mr President-Elect.