You just gotta go with your crew

(more pics to come)

I think one of the best things about this trip for me has been the it has really forced me to expand my definition of who "my crew" is. A couple of days ago it became very clear to me how much my definition has changed in the past few weeks.

I am currently on a farm in Sri Lanka learning to build a house out of mud (it is called earthen building). I am part of a workshop that consists of twenty Sri Lankan men (17 to 60 years old), one Thai guy, two teachers (husband and wife - Jo from Thailand and Peggy from Colorado) and their 5 year old kid, Tan.

On the second day, after a hard day of building, me and some of the others went for a bath in the river. I stood on the river bank and watched the boys and men strip down to their tighty whities (actually mostly tighty bluies and tighty blackies) and dive in. I dove in only to eject three feet out of the water - "SOMETHING BIT MY FOOT!!" It didn't hurt, actually it felt kinda good, whatever it was, but it scared me SO bad!! One of the men swam over and let me know that it was just a fish and it was just eating at the wounds on my feet (of which there we MANY from mixing the mud with my bare feet). He told me it would help my wounds heal faster. I nodded but decided to just float on my back to avoid the situation - good or not.

As I laid there and looked down the river at the men unwrapping their bars of soap and lathering themselves and their laundry up I felt the strangest feeling...peacefulness. Heather Box in the middle of no where Sri Lanka, at dusk, swimming with eight stranger men, most of whom I couldn't communicate with, in a muddy river with biting fish. That is about half of my fears mixed into one setting. I mean, if I imagine myself coming across a group men alone in the middle of no where as it was getting dark I know my heart would pound and I would just think the worst thoughts and go in the opposite direction. (I have an irrational fear of groups of men I don't know - as many women do). But tonight as I looked upon a game of soap monster (man covered totally in soap minus his eyes, chasing one of the other guys) I realized that these guys, for this week, were my crew and I felt so safe and at ease.

I can only hope that I carry some of this home with me. Maybe, when I get home, if I just imagine the groups of guys on the streets of San Francisco and New York in their underwear playing soap monster I will feel more comfortable and at peace when walking down the streets alone.