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for the experience? Or do I do it simply out of rebellion, knowing Mama and Papa would

not approve, but they are not here, so why not try it?

The sun is slowly rising, burning off night, and also a morning fog that moves in and out,
a whisper, and morning lightens.

9.

I’d spot her in the dining hall, or walking with her husband on the way to the next seminar.
I see her on the deck where folks gathered after hours, and others seemed to talk to her

with such ease.

Yet even as the days wane, I am still too chicken-shit to talk to Pam Houston.

10.

“What’s your sign?” ask Maysam and Fullamusu, almost simultaneously. I don’t know

how to answer. My dumb-struck face must give me away. We are seated on the deck of
the Lodge Dinning Hall, post-dinner, all seven of us, the fellows. We were talking about

what it’s been like so far, our experience being here. The talk is casual, nearly all the wine
in the bottle gone. Two of the fellow’s ask me my “sign”; I don’t know how to answer.

“What month were you born in?” Fullamusu clarifies. “October,” I reply, still unsure as
to the nature of her question.

“Oh, you’re an air sign! I love air signs!” exclaims Maysam at my answer, his hands and

eyes animated with more excitement than I can understand. I’m still clue-less but smile.

The truth is, I didn’t know my own “sign”. I had no clue as to the zodiac element of my

own “air element”. I didn’t even know what a “sign” was. I felt stupid and mis-placed,
but also curious. Both ancias and alegria. Can these two things exist at once?

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