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Hanging around a residence. T & R were around. Although R to some extent 'over here' has tried to make it clear they're not quite joined at the hip in all things... I almost always see them sticking very closely together. We seem to behave when 'over there', as if we've reached a level of truce we can't seem to here. Like estranged people being polite after running into each other unexpectedly at a social function.
Additional possibilities are that layers of ego bullshit and hurt feelings that we have here don't exist or manifest 'over there'. Though there is always at least a residual level of wariness.
I'll go with the 'we behave' hypothesis.
Later, I found myself seeing construction outside the residence - trenches and digging in the yard. It reminded me of planned pipe laying for water transport that will occur in my hometown, including at some point, outside my childhood home. Thus, seeing the trenches ironically did little to shake my impression of being 'at home'.
However, this trench was running through the yard, rather than being at the edge of the road. That fact perturbed me moderately, though not as much as discovering a hole cut in the floor of my room (and some fellow who popped his head up, dislodging the rug covering it). I expressed consternation over the fact that I might have stepped on the hole and fallen through, etc. Looked to me as if I wouldn't have guaranteed privacy for as long as this 'construction' was going on.
Whether I really needed said 'privacy', or whether that craving was an artifact of our culture from 'over here' is a whole seperate issue.
Additional possibilities are that layers of ego bullshit and hurt feelings that we have here don't exist or manifest 'over there'. Though there is always at least a residual level of wariness.
I'll go with the 'we behave' hypothesis.
Later, I found myself seeing construction outside the residence - trenches and digging in the yard. It reminded me of planned pipe laying for water transport that will occur in my hometown, including at some point, outside my childhood home. Thus, seeing the trenches ironically did little to shake my impression of being 'at home'.
However, this trench was running through the yard, rather than being at the edge of the road. That fact perturbed me moderately, though not as much as discovering a hole cut in the floor of my room (and some fellow who popped his head up, dislodging the rug covering it). I expressed consternation over the fact that I might have stepped on the hole and fallen through, etc. Looked to me as if I wouldn't have guaranteed privacy for as long as this 'construction' was going on.
Whether I really needed said 'privacy', or whether that craving was an artifact of our culture from 'over here' is a whole seperate issue.
