This past week, it's rained a lot. Everyday. Sometimes all day. I'd been holding out on buying an umbrella since I got here, cause I was being really cheap, but I got the principal to go buy me one (since he gets the Nepali price and I get the "quire" price, for foreigners). Now I won't have to walk in the rain when I hike to Jiri at the end of the week to take the bus to Kathmandu.

Starting last week, the school has been having first term exams. So, everyday, I've invigilated exams. They pack 40 to 45 students, from classes 3-10 into each classroom during the exam period. All the classrooms are really tiny and the students sit four students to a bench, shoulder to shoulder, each bench/desk touching the next. No wiggle room. And the invigilator for each room has to somehow make sure the students don't cheat, which is nearly impossible since all the students are so packed together. Students from the same classes aren't sitting next to each other, but it doesn't really matter. The younger students can get the older students to help them answer questions. Invigilating hasn't been nearly as boring as I thought it would be. It's become sort of like a game, seeing how many cheaters I can catch. It's extra satisfying when I catch the extra sneaky ones. Different students have different strategies. One might write an answer on a piece of paper, put the paper in a pencil case and try to get the case to a classmate. Another might wait for a distraction, like another student asking the invigilator for extra writing paper. They're all super sneaky. But I'm better. I've developed a reputation for being the toughest invigilator. Every morning, students come up to me and ask me which classroom I'll be in, and I delight in the fear in their eyes when I tell them I'll be in their room…..

Yesterday, both my class 7 and 8 math classes had their exams, so I've been helping a lot of students with studying the last couple days. Students would come up to me and ask me if I could come to their house at a certain time on a certain day and I'd show up and there'd usually be a bunch of students and we'd have little study sessions. And I was pretty much always guaranteed a cup of tea (or three) for my services, which was pretty sweet. Twice, I went over to the house of one of my eighth graders named Raju and his mom would force tons of food on me (which I would politely pretend was unnecessary and then devour). I'd walk in and his mom would immediately say "Basnus". "Basnu" means "to sit" but when you add an "s" to the end of any verb, you're kind of adding a "please." So, she'd say "basnus" meaning "please, sit" but with a tone and a glare that said "Sit. Now." And then she'd say "kanus", "please eat", but with a tone of "You're going to eat whatever I put in front of you. Don't try to argue." And then she'd pile a bunch of samosas on a plate, which I'd eat, and then she'd pile a bunch more on.

On Thursday, school was cancelled because of a national strike. Some big teacher's organization in Kathmandu called a strike and every school in the country shut down. One newspaper said 6.5 million kids missed school. Apparently making kids miss school is the best way to improve the education system. So, on Thursday, I went over to the principal's "hostel" (which everyone calls it because eight or nine students from the school live there) hoping I could watch a movie. He called Roby, one of the other teachers, and he brought over a ripped copy of "Apocalypto" and the two of us watched it on the principal's little tv. The principal even brought us some tea. And then Roby (who is from Darjeeling but works at the school) invited me over to the lodge he stays at and we hung out for a while, drank some more tea. Then, on the way back to Nayabazaar, Shah saw me walking by and made me come in to his restaurant and drink some tea. Then I kept walking and Sonam saw me from the window of a house he was giving some extra classes at and he called me up, and he brought me some tea. Then I kept walking and Raju called me over and his mom saw me, commanded "basnus" and put a cup of tea in front of me. Then I went back to the house, watched the Aljazeera daily news and Urmila of my host family brought me a cup of tea. So, tea.

A couple days ago, the principal was telling me about a Bhutanese refugee who had been shot and killed in Florida. Apparently it's been a really big news story here in Nepal. He told me the story had really frightened him, since he hopes that one day he and his family can move to the States as Bhutanese refugees, and he asked me if this was normal in the States. And I was like, "Well, Americans have a lot of guns….and they shoot people more than other people shoot people…….more than like…..Canadians." The principal is always asking me about what it's like to live in the States and I always feel like I'm describing a horrible, vile place, and then end up saying something like, "but, I mean, it's not that bad, at least in most places". One day he asked me if there was a good train system. One day he asked me what the CIA was. He always seems to ask me questions with the worse answers.

On Friday morning, I'll start my walk to Jiri, where I can take a bus back to Kathmandu. I've been told I can make it to Jiri in two days, if I hike from sunrise to sunset. But, for some reason, that makes me kind of excited. It's like a challenge….