Hear me miaow

I really need to force myself to continue this blog…. I have way too much time, and maybe I can concentrate for half an hour every day….

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I haven’t slept much in the past couple of days because somehow the cat had sneaked into my bed and left her fur all over the place… and I’m keeping my distance, with a broken heart… but no problem browsing some cat photos.

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Being a domestic cat is not some lowly paid, entry-level job in Indonesia. It is a great deal of responsibility to be in charge of rat and snake removal.

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… though not all of them look extremely busy all the time….

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(I’m wondering what cats dream about?)

New home, new roof

The villagers of Be’a celebrated the completion of new roofs for three homes by sacrificing six pigs and two horses to the ancestors, and smearing the blood all over the village. People from all the nearby villages flocked to share the meat, very crudely cooked :-(  no fine sausages and bacon and fried blood and other pig-killing-day delicacies. Just lots of fun. More photos of kids coming up sometime soon.

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Wishing it was home

Oops, sorry, this is hopeless.

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Ok, not quite. Just too busy here…. trying not to go nuts. Still many things to do to get the guesthouse running.  And the worst emotional rollercoaster ever. I still feel like the most evil person in the whole world. Blablabla. Nothing new here.

Handmade ikat is still a big thing here. Sure to get extinct soon, Chinese blankets and clothes are so much cheaper than putting in weeks and weeks of work.

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Or, who knows. Many local ladies wear their best ones every night for evening prayers. It’s Mary’s month, every evening they get together at a different house, and in every village, you hear people singing hymns and praying, from a different corner of the neighbourhood.

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Some more village, people and beach pics. I will try to carry a camera around town as well, but it’s more difficult to pull off, for me at least. I don’t wanna stick a camera into the faces of the old ladies who sell me tempe and vegetables and fish. Out in the villages, they get a share of village entry donations for these glimpses, in an organised way.

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I have this restaurant photo from last year. Buffet local style. But this week actually I prefer cooking my own fish and vegetables. These places always serve tons of rice, and no tomatoes, and some dead vegetables only, and a little piece of fish. Still very cheap and good, and maybe next week I won’t enjoy cooking anymore so I’ll go back.

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Returning to favourite spots

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Ok, I’m not officially the worst blogger ever.

 

Going in circles

I don’t even know where all the time is going to, can hardly find enough to follow my online courses, and do the laundry, and finish up reading Harry Potter at last, and make maps, and go to the market to buy fresh fish, and….

The ever-present mountain is looming over everything.

I love being here, but nothing has changed much – still scared, still confused, still full of doubts. But at least for once, I have enough time to wait and see where it is all going.

As for going round in circles, driving all the way around Inerie, a total of about a hundred kilometres, must be one of my favourites of all times, along the coast, black sand beaches, in the jungles, through traditional villages, under cliffs, along rugged dirt roads in some parts. Stunning. (Wanna buy a map?)

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Lisa, clove and cinnamon

Yes, Flores is still beautiful. Yes, I still enjoy the warm days and getting wrapped up in a blanket in the evenings. Yes, I’m still sort of happy. But we will be paying the price very soon, I’m sure.

I wish I could stay here and continue running the business.

I wish… I wish so many things. But what I wish for is completely irrelevant. I’m not in the position to ask for anything from anyone, life, fate, or god.

Lots of pics from beautiful Ngada country. Enjoy.

Ceremony halfway up the volcano – I didn’t make it, only my camera did.

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And the rest here are actually easily accessible on a motorbike, ideal for lazy people like me.

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(Gabriela, clove and cinnamon is one of my favourite books ever.  I hadn’t thought about it for years, but remembered it just now, driving by those mats of fragrant spices drying in the sun.)

 

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