kedda neeram

My eyeball was twitching pretty much non-stop for about two weeks, and only now does it seem to have calmed down significantly. I am either cured because Chellapandi waved chilies, dal, salt, mustard seeds, and dirt from a three-point intersection around my head and then burned it in a blazing inferno on the main road, or because she's been feeding me a different variety of spinach every morning. I like to think of it as a combination of both.

Though my eyeball twitching problem seems to be, thankfully, on the way out, these days are really seeming like a kedda neeram (bad time) for me. Firstly, my fridge (my prized possession) quit working the first day I got back to Madurai. It's been in the shop for a week, and I pretty much concluded today that I am never getting it back. The tricycle driver showed up and carried it off into the sunset, and I really have no idea where it is now. Furthermore, every time I call they keep saying it will be ready "tomorrow" (translation: never?). The phone is also broken, for the third time, which added to my anxiety today. Whenever the repair guy shows up to fix it, it miraculously starts working again, which leads them to the conclusion that I am crazy. Of course it makes me even crazier when this happens. I should also mention that the Western toilet in the house is oozing black sludge and threatens to die any moment. Once that goes, my life as I know it will truly be over.

What really clinched it for me today was when I went to grab my tape recorder, thinking I would at least try to boost my spirits by getting some interviews, and it turned out to be BROKEN as well! This was TOTALLY out of left field. The rest of the day went waste as I was led on a wild goose chase through the city, trying to find yet another "service center" where another of my prized electronics will most likely live (die?) in perpetuity. When the tape recorder went bust, so did all my patience. People here really and truly have the patience of Job, and it is moments like these that the impatience of Americans really comes to the surface. More than impatience it is naivete; I keep believing when people say "tomorrow". In general I try to be very patient here, but when so many aggravating factors come together in one particular moment, it becomes crystal clear that the entire tank of patience has run completely and utterly bone dry. I was so frustrated that I literally felt like I was running on fumes and I had to sit down. Tamilarasi unfortunately had to be witness to my hopelessness. She cheered me up, though, and so did Chellapandi when she got here. Their father-in-law is coming back from the village on Monday, and I have every confidence that he will blast the Videocon disservice center sky high as soon as he gets the chance. I look forward to this moment. In the meantime, the very nice neighbors have decided to turn on their fridge (it is kept merely for show and rarely, if ever, turned on), and are letting us store some of our perishables there.

My alarm clock is about the only thing around here that isn't broken.
In fact, it's been working a little TOO WELL these past couple of days.