Min tibetanska barndom i Zorgay - Life and Culture on the Tibetan ...

said it, or if I just wanted to say it, <strong>and</strong> then thought I had said
it. I felt my face burning. I wished for a hole to swallow me so I
could hide from all those curious eyes. I did not know where to
put my h<strong>and</strong>s, so I pretended I was writing something on the
wall with my finger. The young teacher said nothing, just led
me by my sleeve to settle among the children on the floor. I sat
down reluctantly, as if there were needles on the floor ready to
pierce my bottom.
The teachers taught us nothing that day. I was terribly
bored. I waited outside our classroom after we were dismissed,
waiting for Brother <strong>and</strong> wanting to immediately return home.
Only then did I feel my stomach rumbling. I ate the ball of
tsampa from my bag, but it did not fill my hungry stomach. We
brought food with us to school, for our home was too far away
to go back for lunch.
Brother had no class that day either. We just registered
<strong>and</strong> h<strong>and</strong>ed in our tuition fees. By Buddha's blessing, Brother at
last came, smiled, <strong>and</strong> said "What's happening? Please, don't
cry!"
I said nothing <strong>and</strong> we headed home at noon. I have
never felt more bored in my life than that first day in school.
Traditional stove in the author's home.
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