Scolding resumes as Hari finds Arjun playing hooky by the low caste water pipes. Knobby- kneed spinning as Arjun runs past Hari's shop, hoop wobbling down the road bouncing off the jutting stones. small comfort: he will come again, and I graced if I meet him and recognize him. Misty terror dissipated now as Arjun rolls his hoop down the road. Scolding resumes as Hari finds Arjun playing hooky by the low caste water pipes. Knobby-kneed spinning as Arjun runs past Hari’s shop, hoop wobbling down the road bouncing off the jutting stones. And once again the taking of tea. “Tell me about when you were in India,” I ask Hari. “ In India I worked in a big hotel,” Hari says. “Americans, Germans. I was just a boy.” He pulls out that imaginary tray. “Whiskey, brandy. I had to put the money like this.” His hand lays flat on the tray. “The paper under the coin,” he explains. “ Not the other way around. Like this.” ■ make my fist a globe, show Hari ■ where I’m going. “You live here,” I J I point to my pinky. “ My home is here,” somewhere on my thumb. I wonder where I live in Hari’s world, where the sun is a god who circles the earth, night and day. And I wonder, boarding the plane in Kathmandu, if I will return to that spot on my thumb, ordered 48°N 123°W. Nepal is east of America. Nepal is west of America. I would write many times to Hari, through Keshab. “ Please share this letter with Hari Bahadur at the teashop.” Hari cannot read. “ Please send my love to Hari. Tell him I am fine in America. Ask him how he is.” “ Everyone is fine,” Keshab answers. Hari cannot w rite . “ There are big changes at the pond. They are building a motor road up the hill.” “ Tell Hari we have donuts like his jellabies,’’ I respond. “Ask him if he has made cake.” “ It is the hot season,” again, Keshab. “ Soon the rains will start. The pond has been stocked with fish. The government made a fish farm.” “Tell Hari I am fine in America. Tell him I have an office job. Tell him I made a cake and wrote his name on top. In chocolate. “The hot season is ending. People are sick. Soon the rains will start,” Keshab writes. “ There are many fish. Yesterday one was caught weighing three kilos. The police chief bought it.” “Tell Hari I hiked in the mountains. Tell him I went to the top and looked for him on the other peaks. Tell him I saw a bird. It might have been a hawk.” “We have many fish. There was one that weighed 4 'k kilos. The police chief bought it. People are sick. I will be transferred to a school in the valley. Hari died. The rains are hard. There have been two mudslides on the road by the school. The school was closed for three days. But soon the rains will stop.” Barbara Kerley is a writer living in Seattle. She was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Nepal. This story appeared in a recent King County Art Commission newsletter. Margaret Chodos-lrvine is an artist living in Seattle. Her linocuts illustrate Ursula K. Le Guin’s novel, Always Coming Home. Enjoy a Taste Treat! Nancy’s Lowfat Yogurt 1/2 Pints Our Fruit-in-the-Bottom Yogurt is lightly sweetened with honey. Chose from: Blueberry •Strawberry Peach Raspberry, or select from Nancy’s naturally flavored Lowfat Yogurts: Essence of Lemon Vanilla Maple. Nancy’s Lowfat Yogurt is always a taste treat. Snack time or mealtime, serve Nancy’s Lowfat Yogurt for your good health! Springfield Creamery Eugene, Oregon I • J EDCOX STUDIO VIEWINGS BY APPOINTMENT 447-9667 619 WESTERN AVE. FIFTH FLOOR 98104 SEATTLE I M J f f c ! $ $ A Musical Work in Progress $$ about the serio-comic side of being a thief | Book and Lyrics by Ted Sod $ $ $ Music by Suzanne Grant & Pamela Gerke $ $ (from themes improvised by the ensemble) $ $ $ $ 12 Performances Only! $ $ April 21 - May 8 $ * Tickets $5 - $8 £ World Premiere of SAY, CAN YOU SEE* Conceived by Ruben Sierra Music by Joseph Seserko Video Direction by John Schwab A biting, satirical look at the melting pot concept that has made America what it is today. May 26 - June 19 at the Ethnic Theatre 3940 - Brooklyn Ave. NE in the U-District 34 Clinton St. Quarterly—Spring, 1988
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