It is nearly eleven o' clock, and I really should get to sleep. We went to a funeral, and it was indeed very different from a Western funeral. There were monks chanting, but nobody seemed to be listening. After a while, I decided it was okay, not that I'm the judge of those things. The people talked, ate, and laughed, and I think that's maybe what she would have wanted. The woman who died, I mean. My host mother's aunt. We did go up and kneel in front of where the body supposedly was (I couldn't see it) and each lit an incense stick and prayed, and that felt good.
Today, I felt detached. Some of it was my doing - I read some of Perks of Being a Wallflower (which is getting sad now, and it makes me sad) and I watched Airforce 1 (Fifa wanted me to). Then I just felt - I don't know. At the party, I mean funeral (I didn't do that on purpose) conversations were just swirling over me and I couldn't understand anything. Sometimes it was funny to me, but once, I almost started crying.
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