So I was hoping I would be tired enough to write without really caring, without self-censoring, as they say in theatre. But now I'm not sure if that's really such a good. Idea. Punctuation is beginning to . Disobey my flow.I let my eyes close, , my knees sag together, my spine curve up from bed to pillow-against-wall, how is this position so comfortable? How good is it to type with closed eyes? I have a plan to get out of here, it is too much for me, this place, its demands. I must wake up at six tomorrow, as I did today, pray for water to come out of the tap when I turn the handle. Ride into the English teaching job, then prepare for the private lesson, then go and teach juggling at the British school, then do the private lesson with the gardener, where perhaps we shall revisit rope-climbing techniques, then to circus training in the evening, then to catch my friend before she splits back to the Tarai, then sleep, then up again before the sun.
The only thing that makes it sustainable is the constant newness. In the last month or so, the circus classes have increased from 3 evening sessions per week, to 5 days full time, now 6 days, all at the behest of the refuge manager, and we're racking our brains to find ways to use this time so that we don't destroy the poor students. Digging up old pilates routines and researching this or that thing. Frustrating, then exciting, then frustrating again, it ebbs and flows. Then there's the English teaching, which always threatens to become too much, but still I get just little enough that I can manage to be heavily involved with circus training, just enough to pay my expenses, I will not save money but as long as nothing too dire happens then I will be able to afford to come back to Australia, and rest. Just two months to go.
Here in Kathmandu anything is possible, so long as it's not the thing you're aiming for. A few months back I had to learn Illustrator in a night, because that's how long I had to draw up a plan for a potential circus school. This week I will teach school kids how to juggle, the gardener how to do a Russian climb, the nanny how to sing English lullabys. Today I did a particularly bad juggling show, completely unrehearsed, for some German flipping tour-group, I did it because one of the Sapana performers told me I had to, and how could I say no to them, they who jump through so many hoops, with so little warning, so that EBT can show the world what a great job they are doing at helping these poor kids. And we the trainers are always the unfortunate messengers. Never mind that you might have had plans for your weekend, for any of your weekends, ever.
Oh, oops, too tired to delete that. I never allow myself to write about how frustrating I find EBT, because I really don't want to put off any potential circus/performing arts teachers from coming and helping out. Especially right now with our super-extended training hours, with a good team of trainers we could make so much progress. Really, it's an amazing project. The opportunity to do a social circus project with kids who are at such a high skill level, who are so eager to learn, and who are above all, just such a great crew, is too good to pass up. Suffering the impulses of those who are in control, but actually have no fucking clue, is just one of those things that one must do from time to time
Good night, dear reader. My eyes snuck open back there somewhere, but now they will close again, until my unruly alarm once more wrenches them open, 8 hours from now.
The only thing that makes it sustainable is the constant newness. In the last month or so, the circus classes have increased from 3 evening sessions per week, to 5 days full time, now 6 days, all at the behest of the refuge manager, and we're racking our brains to find ways to use this time so that we don't destroy the poor students. Digging up old pilates routines and researching this or that thing. Frustrating, then exciting, then frustrating again, it ebbs and flows. Then there's the English teaching, which always threatens to become too much, but still I get just little enough that I can manage to be heavily involved with circus training, just enough to pay my expenses, I will not save money but as long as nothing too dire happens then I will be able to afford to come back to Australia, and rest. Just two months to go.
Here in Kathmandu anything is possible, so long as it's not the thing you're aiming for. A few months back I had to learn Illustrator in a night, because that's how long I had to draw up a plan for a potential circus school. This week I will teach school kids how to juggle, the gardener how to do a Russian climb, the nanny how to sing English lullabys. Today I did a particularly bad juggling show, completely unrehearsed, for some German flipping tour-group, I did it because one of the Sapana performers told me I had to, and how could I say no to them, they who jump through so many hoops, with so little warning, so that EBT can show the world what a great job they are doing at helping these poor kids. And we the trainers are always the unfortunate messengers. Never mind that you might have had plans for your weekend, for any of your weekends, ever.
Oh, oops, too tired to delete that. I never allow myself to write about how frustrating I find EBT, because I really don't want to put off any potential circus/performing arts teachers from coming and helping out. Especially right now with our super-extended training hours, with a good team of trainers we could make so much progress. Really, it's an amazing project. The opportunity to do a social circus project with kids who are at such a high skill level, who are so eager to learn, and who are above all, just such a great crew, is too good to pass up. Suffering the impulses of those who are in control, but actually have no fucking clue, is just one of those things that one must do from time to time
Good night, dear reader. My eyes snuck open back there somewhere, but now they will close again, until my unruly alarm once more wrenches them open, 8 hours from now.
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