Daily Activities

People from the States keep asking me what life is like these days.

The thing is, running a forest is a lot of work. Period.

Twenty acres is a lot of land. Period.

And there are animals to protect! Just this morning the villagers brought their dogs to collect cashews and—as they do almost every morning—the dogs chased the chickens. For the third time since June, one of the dogs succeeded in catching a poor bird, and I had to come with a stick to free the cock.

Plus, our Gop__ needs a lot of loving (which I’m more than happy to give) and company (which I spend simultaneous writing about watsu and/or complementary currencies). He’s just a puppy, after all…

And the cows come several times a day to eat the young trees and blooming flowers, and the house/kitchen/storeroom always offer improvement projects, and the workers—my God, the workers.

Everyday they try to teach me Tamil. However, the lessons include me repeating what they say without any clue what it means. We laugh a lot. Then they ask me serious things in Tamil and look at me with expectant eyes. I suddenly have to make a thoughtful decision based on a frantic stream of grunts and hollers which meant absolutely nothing to my ears. Sometimes we play charades, but I’ve always been bad at that game.

They look to me more and more for direction. I point and explain what needs to be done around the house. But in the forest? I clearly have no idea, and even if I did, the Old Man would have no idea what I’m saying.

Thus, after working on watsu and economics, between fighting village dogs and chasing cows, while tending to Lumière’s puppy and employees, I’m now researching Tropical … Forests and practicing Tamil online.

So, my fellow Americans, my only answer to you is: I’m keeping busy.

The Dog

We're still settling on a name, but Gopta and Gopal are coming out on top… even though he’s not living up to his name as defender/protector or cow herder. In fact, as I spend time with him, I realize more and more how difficult this is going to be.

Here's why:

1. I'm not his person. Dogs pick their person; we, also, are drawn to certain dogs. I was not drawn to Gopta nor him to me; we were united by extraneous circumstances and now must learn to like each other. We’re getting there. Slowly.


2. He's old. I don't care what Raja said: This is not a puppy—it's a small-sized dog. His balls have dropped and he's stubborn. I'm not training a puppy; I'm teaching an old dog new tricks. Or trying to, at least.


3. He's scared. Of everything. Including the chickens. (And eating… Every time I feed him he nibbles, jumps away, timidly returns, eats some more, and continues as such until the bowl is empty.)


4. He doesn't bark. How can you noiselessly defend a house?


5. He won't chase the cows. Unless, of course, you count him chasing me as I chase the cows.
   

But I have faith if not patience. This poor pup had a hard life and survived something traumatic. In time, I hope, he’ll come around…

In the meantime, we’ll shower him with love and affection, heal and feed him, and try try try to make him the Defender of Lumière and Protector of Plants!