Day 118,

Was going to go meet with the carpenter about making a blackboard after I finished cleaning up after the children today, but I’m honestly just too tired to deal with it right now.  No school tomorrow or the next day though, so I’ll just look into it then.  While the first day of school is always a market day, the rest of the market days of the rainy season the kids get off.  Mostly I think it’s so the outskirts kids can see their parents when they come back into the Village.  

That said, I’m about to head back to the house for the evening myself.  Just as soon as this (hopefully) brief evening shower lets up.  Check on how things are doing, make sure there are no leaks, take care of laundry, etc.  I asked Cass if she wanted to come along and/or walk back to her parents’ but she turned me down.  She’s got a key so I’ll be leaving her to lock up tonight.  I think she’ll appreciate the gesture of being trusted with it.

Found Maiko sprawled on the couch attempting to read a book I’d left behind.  To my surprise, she was concentrating intently enough on it that she didn’t notice me come in.  Not having expected to find her here I found myself watching for a few moments as she quietly sounded out letters to herself.

The flip from a supine position to over the back of the couch that she made when I finally spoke up to announce my presence straddled the line between impressive athleticism and comedy.  The image of a startled cat comes to mind.  With what I presume is conscious recognition of my familiar voice and the fact that I called her by name lagging behind long-trained reflexes to hide, she slowly lifted herself out of her crouch behind the couch, more fully relaxing once she saw me.

She told me not to sneak up on her like that.

I said I hadn’t been  trying to.  That was me announcing my entrance.

Then why hadn’t she heard the door?

A gesture to the book she was still holding.

She was distracted.

A pause in search of any other subject.

She asked what was in the basket I was carrying.

Laundry.  Also dinner.  Not the ideal combination for one container, but it kept the rain off the food.  I offered to share.

She’d already eaten.

As I separated clothing from cuisine I commented that she seemed to have made herself comfortable.

She thanked me for the offer to stay.  Drier than shelters she’d been using.  Nice to be able to stretch out instead of sticking in one spot by the door to minimize her intrusion like she used to do on mist nights.  Said she’d stayed out of my room except to get the blankets for the couch.

I told her I was glad she liked it.  Thanked her for the respect of privacy.  Said she was welcome to any books I left lying around so long as she was careful not to damage them.

A pause of an uncomfortable subject touched again.

She asked me what all I’d been doing in the Village this past week.

I told her.  About the children.  About the teaching.  About the seating mats and wax tablets.  About not bathing or doing laundry enough (a comment from Maiko about more evidence humans wear too many clothes).  About trying to get small children dried off before they dripped on everything.  About plans for a blackboard.

Attentively, she took it all in.

A pause of gathering the courage to ask an embarrassing question.

A last minute shift.  She asked exactly how I go about conducting the reading lessons.

I started to explain.  Caught the implication of the real question.  Said it’d be easier to show her.  Offered to give a demonstration in the morning.

She said that sounded interesting.

As I went to go to my room to begin getting ready to turn in for the night, I noticed Maiko’s pouch under the edge of the couch.  Guess she’s making this her main camp for the foreseeable future.