Once a Dutchie, always a Dutchie

Sometimes I wonder when the people at the base here sleep. If it doesn’t rain they’ll sit outside for hours, but no matter how early I get up,there are always people happily doing their laundry or mopping the floor.

My biorhythm has changed over the past months, minute by minute, and by now I actually wake up at 6:30, without an alarm. Yes mom, that’s right. 6:30.

But a Nepali won’t be impressed by this. To illustrate this, two quotes.

Sujan, after the World Cup finals: “Ruth didi, I was SO tired…guess at what time I woke up this morning!”
Ruth (is thinking 10, or 11 maybe): “Well, tell me!”
Sujan: “at EIGHT o’clock!!”

Tilak: “This morning I woke up early. Or actually…I only woke up at 6am. Because last night I went to bed so late, that I had a hard time waking up this morning.”

Yeah. BEAT THAT.

And cutting grass like a Nepali? Forget it. On Tuesday I cut my thumb, on Wednesday my index finger and on Friday my middle finger. So I just hung my sickle on the willows (not literally. This is actually a nice saying in Dutch, meaning you give up.) What I actually did was give that sickle to a Nepali, who cuts grass three times as fast, without bloody incidents.

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