This morning I was cleaning our garage/patio.
Most women clean the inside and outside of their homes every morning. Usually because A) It gets too hot to do housework later in the day B) Everyday loads of dust accumulates and necessitates daily housework.
Side note: The garage/patio is my least favorite area to clean.
1 - It's dirtier than the rest of the house
2- Our car and motorcycle are parked in this area, so I have to clean around them
3 - It's an outdoor area so 1 hour after cleaning it becomes dirty again
4 - I've always had grand plans of making a little garden and pation seating...I dream of sitting on wicker furniture, drinking tea and bird watching. So everytime I step out there reality hits...I don't have the wicker furniture of my dreams. Every plant out there dies. And I have yet to find a bird book of Curry Land (if anyone finds one...it's what I want for Christmas)
Anyways so while doing one of my least favorite chores this morning the mailman came. Art came to the gate to get the mail and engage in a friendly conversation. I love having Art living with us, people talk to Art, they talk to him as if we are not standing right there listening.
The mailman saw me cleaning our garage/patio and had an epiphany...'They are normal people.' he told Art. This small comment made my heart swell. I have spent years trying to learn the language, culture, food, and mindset here in Curry Land...finally I have arrived! I am considered normal here.
So when I am back in America Land in six weeks and I am no longer 'normal' by American standards I am going to console myself everyday with the fact that the mailman thinks I am normal.
