The next morning...

...picking up where we left off with the New Year's celebrations...

The rooster in the room below us begins his urgent calls long before the sun was even thinking of getting up. I find myself imagining a nice hearty rooster broth (sorry Victoria, I was tired) to warm my still very cold, now bruised body.When there was finally light, it was splendid to see sunshine and find the outside temperature was warmer than in. I went out.Our breakfast was noodles and leftovers from the meal last night... I was careful to keep my eye on my favourite dish, bamboo (safe).

It was around this time that I noticed the front door. The night before people were going in and out and living it open, and it was freezing out. I thought at least they might close it to keep in the body heat and keep out the breeze. And I didn't mention that at dinner, they put a small radiant heater under the table as we ate. It had the same heat effect as if it had been a candle, in a word, none. So now this open door thing was very troubling to afreezing foreigner. In the morning I am able to see it's a metal gate! Just bars and in some places, a bit of screen. I smile to think that the night before I think keeping it closed would have helped.

It's very odd to be surrounded by many people and yet be so isolated by a language barrier. There's so much that you want to know and your host is somewhat tired of constant

questions and has a look that says "don't you know anything?" I am surprised each time there is a plan that everyone else knows about but me, and I'm not ready...

So the first day of Spring festival is spent with the father's family (patriarchal) and the second day with the mother's. This means we are off to Leman's dad's home in the country. Leman's parents divorced some years back so it adds complications to the celebrations.They load Leman and I in the former "school bus" mini-van and at breath stopping speed and unsafe driving habits we rocket off to the rural area. The driver keeps a cigarette burning non stop while driving, and the radio volume at ear damaging levels. He's one of those drive, drive, beep, beep, drive, beep, beep, beep, drive, drive, beep... headache in a few short minutes, destination 90 minutes away, roads less than ideal.

Leman's dad's house is similar to her mom's, familiar square box, cement floor, bathroom and toilet the same room, (you just take the bucket of water in with you and be careful where you step) I must admit I had not enough courage to think of removing all my clothes at once and getting wet at that temperature... so I went a few days with no shower.

The kitchens were similar but her dad's house had no fridge at all... hence the vegetables on the floor and the fish and pork pieces on a hook on the wall, of course.

You see the veggies in cold storage on the floor... I don't know what happens in summer...

...and the fish storage...

The cook stove

And the dining room - note the rice cooker on the floor by the door, and the photos of the generation before hanging on the wall in a place of honour.

Leman walking across the road where we had to get off the motorcycle and walk because three on a bike couldn't make it either up the hill or across the impassible road. (It looks better than it is, here)

Leman and her dad - he's preparing lunch.

...more to come...