the ways of the force are mysterious indeed

Today, at the Book Festival, I ran into three of my students. We ended up talking about being in America (they are all from overseas and just arrived here this semester), finding things to do, having to always talk in a different language (I told them they'd get used to it) and so on. I almost had my picture taken with Clifford (the big red dog) and saw a singing and dancing sloth. Oh and, of course, Terry Pratchett (who didn't sing or dance but was good fun all the same).

Then, I went to watch the rugby World Cup and ran into a couple of graduate students whom I know from the class I'm TA-ing. We sat around and talked about rugby--how we all got interested (they are both American and I, as I'm sure yous know by now, am Nepali), what's the point of watching it (when "our" teams don't play or play terribly) and, as graduate students tend to, we discussed sports and politics--identity-formation and nationalism. All the while the All Blacks were running in over 80 points against the Romanians.

Finally, I walked home and ran into an ex-student. By this time, I was expecting to run into students--current or former--so, apart from not being able to recall his name (nothing new there), I was prepared. We discussed what he's been doing (this is his final semester, he's trying to decide between postgraduate studies, law school or travelling/working overseas).

Then, I got home. Home is thankfully empty of students. For now.

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