Some of Paul's classmates have arranged a Yoga night for a few weeks (it's been lovely). The first one I went to was at the house of the tutors (what they call the teachers for the course). They have a large yard with 'grass', hard pack dirt with some green weeds and grass growing sparsely. We all just stood, sat and laid in the dirt for Yoga. Side note this week happened to be the week on parasites and the parsasitologists took a picture, and put it in the lecture, of everyone (unknowing to most) and I had a exposed legs and was singled out at the one most likely to get 'things' (infections) from the dirt. One of boys was at the lecture the day they showed it and was so delighted to retell me that story. Back to the point... At the end we did a meditation while in shavasana and I felt the hard earth beneath me. It was firm and my body continued to settle down into it as well as it felt the earth was reaching up to support me.
I began to think, laying in that dirt, I am really in Africa. I am laying in the dirt in Africa. My body is being supported directly by the dirt and earth in Africa. I think of Africa as the cradle of humanity where the divine force of God began the evolution of man and the slow diversification towards what we have become. I felt that mother Africa, the cradle of humanity and it feels like she is a supportive mother but she is not coddling. She has in some ways turned her back on her people, letting them go make their way as they should not being pampered and they have a hard life here. They are all so strong and beautiful. No one here slouches, they all walk erect and perfect, it seems like everyone has the most beautiful skin, even when scared.
We were just in a remote area where the dirt is a red volcanic soil, rich and now it is the dry season. The river beds are sandy and dry. The people walk so far for water and I watched as two men bent town and drank from a muddy puddle after spending half of there 3 hours of hunting to catch a few song birds and 2 mice for the small village to eat. People pound grain by hand. They toil here. Maybe it feels different in the wet season but I still think they toil.
I talked the other day with Grace and Ben about parents and discipline of children. Here if you don't behave you get the stick. You get whacked with a stick and it can be harder or more than once or in more than once part of the body. Is this practical because there are still areas where if you don't hop to it RIGHT NOW and do as your parents say you can die? Is it practical because there are plants that the sap could kill or blind you? I see some complexities that make sense about it that I can not try to formulate or if I did no one would care to read the long paragraphs resulting.
Here is what I will say. They were so shocked when I said if you hit your child with a stick, punched them or hit them hard enough they'd fall down, bit, pinched or hit them hard enough to break skin or leave marks you could go to jail in the US. They just were shocked. Then they asked how do you discipline? This was after quite a long talk and so I actually found myself laughing at how absurd it must have sounded as it came from my mouth and felt slightly embarrassed to admit the general things I know people do- which is not to say I am going to start striking my children. I told them people put their kids in time out, talk to them, ground them, take privileges away or may spank them. Grace said but if you took somethings away then you give it back? I wish I could show her exact expression and posture. She then sat with her head cocked looking up to the right with her eyes rolled up and a peevish look on her face and she shrugged her right shoulder and tipped her head down in a classic well you can try look and said 'hummp- I thinking I will get it back and I can do it again if I want'.
