Email: Chapter 5

This is too funny for words.

To begin: Most everyone was horrified at the thought of feeding ants. Except, to my knowledge, for Mendon. He was fine with it, as he explained, because ants are clean. Clean bugs. Additionally, the ants do not fight for the rice sugar, nor do they swarm to it. They stop by every so often, eat a little bit, leave. This is confirmed by the pictures because the rice sugar remains (the ants don't eat much of it) and because you can see the white, rice sugar, instead of a pile of black/red/brown ants. Following this train of thought, I have probably written you all about what I have been calling "night bugs." They are small, beige things that live in my fridge, kitchen, and occasionally in other similar places, like my bathroom or between my towel and bedroom door. Of course, I've found a few in my bed. There are too many to kill and they live everywhere. They are the ones with which I needed to just learn to live. Literally, live with. I've ignored them for a few days, largely looking for tarantulas in the bathroom thanks to Mara and Rae (www.dornbrook.com/Blogs/Mara; www.dornbrook.com/Blogs/Rachael for specifics. In a nutshell, Mara found a tarantula in her Haifa, Israel, bathroom a while ago and Rae hassled her for her reaction. Now that Rae is having a similar reaction to her roach infestation, the whole issue has been brought up again, and some revenge is being had.) Well, now that my tarantula concern is subsiding, I have a new interest in my night bugs. So, I determined to identify them today. I have caught one, as a matter of fact, and it is sitting next to me, in a plastic baggie, slowly dying as I type. I feel good about this. Occassionally, I'll even shake it. Why, you may ask, is Kristen interested in torturing bugs? Because the bugs are the same ones that are infesting Rachael's home. Roaches, brown banded ones to be exact. I live with an army of roaches. Mara, Rae, much love and empathy to you both. At this point, I would probably be pleased to find a tarantula in my bathroom, just for the sake of completing the story. Thank you, India. Oh, and a statement about my fridge: Brown-banded roaches don't like to live in cold places. They prefer warm. The roaches favorite hang is my fridge. Thus, my fridge may feel "cool" in relation to the heat of India, but roaches still consider it "warm." Gross.

Moving on.

I had a massage a few days ago at the Residency Towers. For my massage I paid 1100 rupees. Translation: $25.50. Although slightly different from my experience with massage in the US (which is limited), it was similar enough. So, I had my hour-long (at least?), incredibly oily massage with Rita. It was fairly intimate (in that nudity was just not a concern and neither were what educators have been known to call "bathing suit places.") Go figure. Then, I had a head massage, which I would have preferred to have first, as it was a little strenuous, because part of it involved sectioning off and pulling on my hair. This strengthens my hair (according to Mendon). After that, I was led off to the steam room (made me think of Jerry : ) to relax for a while. I took a hot shower, got back into my clothes and then Rita, wonderful woman, took me into their beauty parlor so she could wash and condition my hair. She then combed it and started to dry and style it, but I really prefer having wet hair when I can in the heat of Chennai. Again, for my 2 hour spa trip, I paid a total of $25.50, which included a tip. This, for a spa that was nicer than many American spas. : ) Happy. (To justify: between sitar, violin, a new bed, the stress of being away from home, away from normalcy, away from Mendon, plus everything else, my back was starting to get rather painful and I decided that I was either headed to the spa or to a doctor. Physical therapists, although cheaper, were no the choice to which I was recommended... )

I ordered pizza last night. I caved. Pizza hut, thank you. So, I requested a family-size cheese pizza and a side order of garlic bread with cheese. Better than the pizza was our delivery boy! Oh my goodness, spirit-squad cheerleaders could not compare to the zest of this boy. He is an aspiring microbiologist, who is managing his educational costs with his delivery night-job. He was thoroughly excited to know that we were US residents (as if this weren't completely obvious) and that we were here to study music. He, of course, delivered a collection of sauces to go with our pizza, as Indian culture would deem appropriate. He did all of this with a smile and almost bounced away from our flat.

I'm fried. I can't write anymore. It's 90* in my room after the sun has set. I'm tired, cranky and I need to get work done (which includes disinfecting the fridge). I've been doing a lot of shopping. There are two people for whom it will be difficult to not shop, as almost everything I see here reminds me of them. (Hint: Dad and Jerry.) : ) I'll be out of town from the 8th until the 10th for a wedding which is going to have both an elephant and a horse. No, I'm not kidding. I'll send photos. Ok. I'm done, I'm gone. Have a nice night, cool or arid, wherever you may be.