My dearest Alma,
It was an exceptionally hot day today. The blistering sun shone with such fervor, which would be good for my neighbors drying their laundry outside, but my feet suffered. My poor feet had only been partially covered by shoes, so the bridge is now much darker than the rest of my feet. My poor hydrangeas also suffered, one mophead was severely wilting and turning brown. I hope the tropical night would be more forgiving so both the hydrangeas and I could redeem the heat.
I spent more hours today with Prof. S, my employer. Yesterday we had talked briefly, in which he expressed concerns about my recent problems in getting a legal separation from FH. Prof. S said, "You should have never married that man!" to which, my quick mouth took over my head and I replied, "Oh, but Professor, why didn't you say something before I did it?" That was rather crass and impolite of me to have said so, but thankfully Prof. S caught my playful drift and he smiled and said, "Oh didn't I say so? I thought I had urged you not to!" and I chuckled and said that I would probably have not listened to him anyway since I was unbearably thickheaded.
Alma, Prof. S is nearing the end of his academic tenure, and I suspect he would want to leave a strong mark in the world of thoughts. I have been working for him for five years, and I have learned to appreciate him not only as an employer, but also an academic patron and teacher of the arts. Prof. S was the one who took me into the enchantment of shadow puppets and opened the door to hundreds of lores and tales from the two Indian epics. He has been teaching and conducting research in this archipelago for more than thirty years, and over the decades has built a stellar reputation and remarkable network.
Much like your father, Alma, Prof. S is the kind of man who has the power to make the world come to him, to the hidden old heritage house we use as our office. Had you been here in the house, you would see me being zealously protective over the 325 leather Gods and Heroes, each a character from the epics. Whenever Prof. S is not in the country, they would be safely kept in a wooden chest from the 1900s and no one but him knows where the key to the chest is. I imagine my bond to these delicate puppets is alike to yours with the mosses in your greenhouse.
But back to Prof. S - just the first morning he was in the house, he had already met with the Deans of the University. And in a few days, the Ambassador himself will fly in from the capital to pay Prof. S a visit. I had met this Ambassador a little more than two years ago. As with most meetings Prof. S had with prominent guests, I was only a fly on the wall; being introduced by him as the "assistant who has been with me longer than I could remember".
However, that time I had a chance to talk with him over a lunch at the house. The Ambassador intently asked me questions on religious radicalism, a topic I wrote on as a thesis. I had argued that we should not tunnel-view religious radicalism as being rooted solely in the tenets of the faith. "What then?" he asked. So we discussed some of the probabilities enthusiastically; me as a novice scholar and him as a freshly arriving Ambassador trying to better understand the country. Most people were charmed by the Ambassador's warmth and youthfulness, although I have a feeling Prof. S would appreciate a much older figure in that position. It was rather unfortunate that I had to miss a meeting with the Prince when he came to visit our place. I was sent to the outer island for a task by Prof. S. We shall see if I would get to meet the Ambassador the second time around.
Alma, Prof. S today mentioned he is thinking about doing follow up research both in Flores and Seram island. I was beyond thrilled to hear the plan! Very much hoping I can somehow be involved in the project. Although to be very frank with you, the more I go into my readings on this topic, the more I feel like such a Conservation illiterate! My prior knowledge of the rainforest would be equivalent to a gardener's knowledge -- which is not totally garbage, but not the most relevant either. Before I left my work desk this afternoon, I bowed down to the spirits of intelligence, the genius, asking them to lend me some miraculous intellect. Who knows, maybe I'll be lucky enough to hear what Wallace called "mysterious knockings" from the universe. Although I would like to note that I meant metaphorically (in case the spirits stealthily see what I write to you); it would be horrid if I were to hear them literally.
A small note, I found out Moringa flowers are bisexual. How far along are you in your mosses? How do they breed? I hope to start my reading on sexual selection soon.
Always delighted to hear from you,
Yours sincerely,
GR.
It was an exceptionally hot day today. The blistering sun shone with such fervor, which would be good for my neighbors drying their laundry outside, but my feet suffered. My poor feet had only been partially covered by shoes, so the bridge is now much darker than the rest of my feet. My poor hydrangeas also suffered, one mophead was severely wilting and turning brown. I hope the tropical night would be more forgiving so both the hydrangeas and I could redeem the heat.
I spent more hours today with Prof. S, my employer. Yesterday we had talked briefly, in which he expressed concerns about my recent problems in getting a legal separation from FH. Prof. S said, "You should have never married that man!" to which, my quick mouth took over my head and I replied, "Oh, but Professor, why didn't you say something before I did it?" That was rather crass and impolite of me to have said so, but thankfully Prof. S caught my playful drift and he smiled and said, "Oh didn't I say so? I thought I had urged you not to!" and I chuckled and said that I would probably have not listened to him anyway since I was unbearably thickheaded.
Alma, Prof. S is nearing the end of his academic tenure, and I suspect he would want to leave a strong mark in the world of thoughts. I have been working for him for five years, and I have learned to appreciate him not only as an employer, but also an academic patron and teacher of the arts. Prof. S was the one who took me into the enchantment of shadow puppets and opened the door to hundreds of lores and tales from the two Indian epics. He has been teaching and conducting research in this archipelago for more than thirty years, and over the decades has built a stellar reputation and remarkable network.
Much like your father, Alma, Prof. S is the kind of man who has the power to make the world come to him, to the hidden old heritage house we use as our office. Had you been here in the house, you would see me being zealously protective over the 325 leather Gods and Heroes, each a character from the epics. Whenever Prof. S is not in the country, they would be safely kept in a wooden chest from the 1900s and no one but him knows where the key to the chest is. I imagine my bond to these delicate puppets is alike to yours with the mosses in your greenhouse.
But back to Prof. S - just the first morning he was in the house, he had already met with the Deans of the University. And in a few days, the Ambassador himself will fly in from the capital to pay Prof. S a visit. I had met this Ambassador a little more than two years ago. As with most meetings Prof. S had with prominent guests, I was only a fly on the wall; being introduced by him as the "assistant who has been with me longer than I could remember".
However, that time I had a chance to talk with him over a lunch at the house. The Ambassador intently asked me questions on religious radicalism, a topic I wrote on as a thesis. I had argued that we should not tunnel-view religious radicalism as being rooted solely in the tenets of the faith. "What then?" he asked. So we discussed some of the probabilities enthusiastically; me as a novice scholar and him as a freshly arriving Ambassador trying to better understand the country. Most people were charmed by the Ambassador's warmth and youthfulness, although I have a feeling Prof. S would appreciate a much older figure in that position. It was rather unfortunate that I had to miss a meeting with the Prince when he came to visit our place. I was sent to the outer island for a task by Prof. S. We shall see if I would get to meet the Ambassador the second time around.
Alma, Prof. S today mentioned he is thinking about doing follow up research both in Flores and Seram island. I was beyond thrilled to hear the plan! Very much hoping I can somehow be involved in the project. Although to be very frank with you, the more I go into my readings on this topic, the more I feel like such a Conservation illiterate! My prior knowledge of the rainforest would be equivalent to a gardener's knowledge -- which is not totally garbage, but not the most relevant either. Before I left my work desk this afternoon, I bowed down to the spirits of intelligence, the genius, asking them to lend me some miraculous intellect. Who knows, maybe I'll be lucky enough to hear what Wallace called "mysterious knockings" from the universe. Although I would like to note that I meant metaphorically (in case the spirits stealthily see what I write to you); it would be horrid if I were to hear them literally.
A small note, I found out Moringa flowers are bisexual. How far along are you in your mosses? How do they breed? I hope to start my reading on sexual selection soon.
Always delighted to hear from you,
Yours sincerely,
GR.
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