would have figured it out by now. I really don't eat
them and I'm really not going to start. I've decided
that November must be the month of epiphanies and I'm
hoping they get one before the next bowl of soup. As
for me, not only did I recently realize that I
definitely don't get enough time alone, but I noticed
yesterday how I've packed on the pounds. That's
right. I'm heading down the fat expressway in a semi
with no breaks.
I know, I know. I've said it before so I suppose it's
not technically an epiphany. But for a long time I
didn't honestly believe myself – even as I complained
about it. 'You're not gaining weight! Just eat the
cake! Yes! The whole thing!" I qualify it as an
epiphany because I am just over the denial part and
into the 'oh shit, what do I do' part.
In America it would be easier for me of course. I
could go to the gym, eat oatmeal for breakfast and
salad for lunch – healthy options. Unfortunately, my
diet here consists of unhealthy options. Every meal
contains potatoes and hunks of bread. Every soup has
a layer of oil on the top. Salo is hidden in the most
unexpected meals and the healthy options are nil. I'm
expected to eat a certain amount and have no control
over my menu.
The exercise part is even harder. I need it not only
for my physical state, but just as much for my mental
state. Running outside sounds wonderful, but with a
village pavemently challenged and a rainy season
dumping I'm sure to get stuck knee deep somewhere in a
mix of mud and cow shit. Not only that, but the
recent daylight savings time pushed the darkness up to
around 4:30 and the village also happens to be
challenged in the area of light.
I made my first attempt today to go to the school gym
and run in circles for 40 minutes and jump rope. I
passed one student on the way to the gym and by the
time I made it inside and turned the lights on I had
15 kids pounding on the door. My first method was to
ignore them. Maybe they'll just go away. Uh-huh.
Great thought Emily!
As I sat there the voices and pounding echoed through
the gym like ghosts. Children ran around to the
school entrance and knocked there as well. It sounded
as if a hundred students had surrounded the school to
shout and pound at the walls. I kept trying to psyche
myself into just running, but the eeriness of the
echoes made me want to close my eyes, swear a lot and
rock in the corner.
After twenty wasted minutes of that I tried the
yelling method. I screamed at them to go home, to let
me exercise alone. I listened to my voice reverberate
back to me and hated the sound of it. I next turned
to begging. I opened the door and said "please.
Please let me exercise alone. Please, please,
please."
I then relocked the door and ran a lap before the
inside door of the gym was unlocked and the director
with twenty children piled in. She explained that the
sports teacher had called a sports section for the
evening and that the gym was not free. Not only did I
not get to run, I felt like an ass. I wanted to hate
the school, the director and the children for making
me feel this way. And unfortunately, a part of me
does.
I'm living on a very thin edge. Just when I think
everything is fine something stupid pushes me back to
the negative side. I know that it is stupid to feel
stupid about this. I know that it was just a silly
mistake. I don't want to be in a position that makes
me hate, where kids deliberately try to push and push
and push until I can't take it anymore. (Please,
someone – send me a yoga or meditation DVD!) Yet
every morning, somehow, I wake up optimistic. Maybe
today will be different. Maybe today will be better.
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