10 days. That I've been living here in my village of Chuzagang. With my family. And here, I feel that I am living in a different place, the place of timelessness.
I don't get to keep the track of days of the week. Date too. We forget it all. If needs arise, we ask people about it.
Life in my village, the perfect peasantry life, is not dictated by time and appointments, but by intuition and nature. Every morning, I wake up by the alarm of rooster's cry. It's quite amazing. Our meals and works, according to the sun's position and stars up in the sky. The seasons so announced by the kinds of wild birds' arrivals and departure.
I am very much enjoying each piece of time here with my parents. I grew dark, like those villagers, my skin burnt and my limbs hardened coz of working every day in the field.
We have here no TV, no internet and the 3G service very disruptive. To get 3G service in my phone, I have to walk to certain areas in here. It takes almost half day to complete posting a single post on my blog.
However, to keep myself abreast with the world outside, I always listen to my father's radio. I started liking some of the BBS radio jockeys already. Also, I listened to BBC radio.