Immodesty is really funny, sometimes.

So, I'm not dead. I'm just past the honeymoon period, so everything isn't the-most-exciting-thing-that-has ever-happened-to-me-ever anymore. I've been here 7 weeks and I'm having nightmares about the culture shock of coming home. Walmart is a really big and scary place  in my dreams. The biggest grocery store I've been in is about the size of the Creamery on 9th in Provo (I can see all 4 walls at any point in the store).
I'm running around without shoes, eating without utensils, burping and wanting to pick my nose in public like everyone else but can't seem to get past that psychologically... maybe next week I'll do it. The kids are telling me that I look Indian because of my brown skin, thank you Indian sun for tanning me so nicely. I think it's really great that I get 8 months of summer, just saying.

Well, story of the week involves some very inappropriate skin exposure. I was out playing for, seriously, 6 minutes on Friday with the kids. I had a few minutes to spare so I ran out to play with them and I got attacked. I was laying on the mats out on the pokiest grass in the world and then I got dog piled by 6 kindergardeners. We ran around and giggled, really great. And then the bell rang for them to do their duties and one of the tiny kids who seriously weighs 25 lbs was just hanging on my chuididar (shirt) and I heard it rip. I wasn't very concerned because it just showed a little bit of my side and I figured that no one would freak out because they wear saris anyway. Then he grabbed my shirt as I was scolding him and the other side ripped and it was a big rip... like, up to my arm-pit rip. I yell at him and he runs away in hysterical laughter as do the 5 kids watching this go down. Musha is 3 and has a terrible record for ripping clothes because he just hangs on them but he's so freaking cute you can't get mad at him.

I start to walk back as I'm holding what's left of my shirt together and I just happen to walk by the 150 kids walking back to their hostel after school. They're all asking for high-fives and I politely giggled and said no. Then this one girl caught on and asked me to put my arms to the side like a bird. I laughed and said okay, not thinking anything would really happen and they would just see the rips. Of course this DIDN'T happen. The second I let go the wind just happen to blow at just the right angle and my shirt just blew with it. It stayed on my shoulders but a whole lot of kids saw way more than they wanted to and probably more than they will ever see in public due to the strict modestly rules here in this country. Everyone was laughing hysterically, including myself. I have learned to not wear crappy chuididars to play time with Musha because he will rip them.

Here are some pictures of the lovely event. I put on a t-shirt under so you aren't as traumatized as the children.

 BIG RIP

 My Sweet Henna

 Tiny Rip

More to come eventually.