Talking Computers

Last night I enjoyed a quick Skype session with my sister. It had rained for the first time in several weeks and the air had suddenly become breathable and cool, if damp. I decided to pull a chair out to our little front courtyard and enjoy the evening by catching up with my youngest sister.

On a related note, a 'construction crew' is building an apartment building next to ours--Indian style. Which simply means that they've thrown a plastic tarp over an overhang and made a tent in which they reside with their families until the project is done. So morning, noon, and night we hear hammering, large bundles of things crashing down, emphatic Hindi, and--oddly-- infants and toddlers crying. Until recently, I thought I was going crazy because I kept hearing little kids whining right outside my window and I truly had no idea what was going on. That's when J pointed out the tarp to me.

Obviously, life is hard for manual laborers and their families in India. The ones we rub shoulders with these days are sleeping on dirt. I intend to bring them a little tent-warming present soon to show some kindness. And I can't help but be thankful that the weather is cooling off so that nights are more bearable for them.

Anyway, back to my Skype session...I was talking to my sister and her little girl when I noticed a dark young woman with a baby. She had come out of her 'house' to get some air, and when I noticed her I waved a little and smiled. She acknowledged me with a quick bob of her head, smileless and stern-looking as Indians sometimes are. I continued to talk with M.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her inching closer and closer to the gate separating us. She bounced her fussy infant and stared at the strange, talking rectangle on my lap. Suddenly, she was directly in front of me and was clearly planning to stay for a while. I talked on and on, occasionally glancing up to smile at my observer. Maybe she thought the box had an evil spirit or something, I don't know. At one point she even moved her baby around so that he could see me. I felt a little like a queen or an alien or a giant cockroach.

Anyway, there's no point to this story except that in India even ordinary moments aren't ordinary, and that there's a lot I take for granted--like talking computers and a roof over my head.