The First Six Months: a Bee Keeper

Sometimes I forget I have a blog again. And never open it up. Guess I am still getting used to it.

The German girl I live with is on her 'first real' job at twenty-eight. It's quite common for Germans to finish studies at ease, picking up interesting praktikums (internships) and travel along the way. There isn't much hurry really. And while I'm always hurrying up a lot of times, I am not sure it leads anywhere, until such time,   as time is ready. I wonder if finally everyone has the same pace, just that it appears slower or faster depending on individual frames of reference. Besides in the long run, things even out I hear.

On one of her side jobs, she was plucking grapes off vineyards in South Germany, in another she was tasting the best chocolate cake in France in a village with horse sheds, sharing warmth in a Tanzanian house and picking up on Mali-French. All this while, she was studying to become a social anthropologist, which makes her an interesting student programme coordinator (with overtly rich experiences). Some of us, Indians, ask a lot of big guest speakers on whether their *studies* really help them in the jobs- or getting to big positions. One of the German guys once said, ah but you don't really do a PhD for that. Somehow I liked his romantic idealism about it. Though, I do hope I am able to work on the romance a little too.

When she grows up, in her final job, as a retiree, she wants to be a bee keeper. Isn't it wonderful that you have a reason to grow so many beautiful flowers and trees, she quips. Oh, and eating honey was a very good thing to do.

I haven't really thought about it. But maybe I'd like warm winter sun on my nape. With clear blue skies. And ein Sessel. With Christopher Robin.

Winnie the Pooh