I watched episode 2 of ‘John Adams’ and cried with joy
for the providential and wholly new worldly leap into independence. Would I have been so brave as the men and
women who declared their irrevocable separation, surely if I grew up in Massachusetts.
I also packed my clothes, aware a few items hardly worn
will probably be left behind. I have a
very nice Peruvian llama tuke I’ve only worn in Nepal since a colleague gave it to me
three years ago in Salalah. I hate to
part with it but when will I ever wear it again? I do not want to lug apparel
around if I won’t use it and need the space it’ll take up if I come across
something more immediate, but it is a nice tuke.
My heart is heavy with worry, so many little teetering tasks
to accomplish in the next four days. On
Monday I will hand over the keys to the Honda to the man from Dhaka and he
makes me nervous. He doesn’t have an
Omani driver’s license and follows the lead of his compatriots who drive
without the same legality. The police
don’t ask for the license when the car is registered since all the data taken
is from the resident card, nevertheless I fear the police could ask for this
man’s license and I will be screwed.
It’s uncertainty which brings tension. And no internet for the second straight
day. I went to McD’s last night for a
milkshake they don’t offer, damn, and drank a mango-orange juice only to
discover their internet service was down.
What’s going on in the personal world?
Greece teeters, terrorists terrorize, and we live off the grid.
I also bagged the books that staved off desperate
loneliness for the past two years.
Tomorrow I’ll take them to the university to start a lending library in
Dr. Milton’s office. I’m glad I don’t
have any sentimental attachments to books, I’ve done this purging enough to
know heavy sentiments don’t make travel easy.
I have been deprived of nature for two years here. The desert can be a beautiful magical place
but not this shade-less truck stop.
Sensory deprivation has beat me down.
If I had never known an air cleansing thunderstorm or the intoxicating medicinals
of a pine forest, if I had never seen snow or the golden changes of maple, I
wouldn’t know what I gave up but here it’s hot, dirty and nothing inspires, the
only wildlife are ugly shit pigeons and I long to be out. Will Kandahar be any better I don’t
know. And another uncertainty that
pervades is if providence is gonna pull a jackalope out of the hat at the last
minute and lead me somewhere else. Come
on, John, why nothing is gonna happen now that wasn’t of your own initiative. I still like to hope, dream, somehow, life will change for the better and I’ll entertain anything right now because that’s who I am. Indecisive.
8.46pm
Richard Attenborough's Gandhi was on this evening. Another country gets its independence from
England. Gandhi’s place in history can
be called nothing less than an auspicious coincidence. Or you could call it timing. In any case, it was a great movie and lifted
my spirit(s).
I think over again my
small adventures.
My Fears,
Those small ones that
seemed so big.
For all the vital things
I had to get and to
reach.
And yet there is only
one great thing.
The only thing.
To live to see the great
day that dawns
And the light that fills
the world.
-Old Inuit Song
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