kidnapped

I bought a $500.00 Brooks Brothers sport coat and I don’t know where it is this morning.  It should be on the chair that goes with the desk I sat at yesterday in the office, I don’t remember leaving the university with it.  I carried the darn thing all day yesterday because it was too warm to put it on and now I don’t have it to put it on.  Did you really spend that much, you’ve never bought any article of clothing that expensive, what the hell, dude?  I wanted a sport coat and visited a dozen places in the Dubai Mall before I tired and stumbled into the famous clothiers kiosk.  And when you return today, it might be gone. 

The university, fellow colleagues, all insist I send my money out of the country.  Yesterday we drove across the city to the Foreign Affairs building and passed the ruins of the presidential palace, sitting majestically despaired, the Soviets did this, the Afghan sitting next to me said when I inquired.  That was almost thirty years ago. 

This is the first time I’ve lived in an active ‘war zone’ and battle fatigue and fear and suspicion are the unfortunate norms that simmer right beneath the daily pleasantries of the everyday Afghan.   

I am heeding the advice of all to send my salary out but now I must decide where.  Foolish, I know, to not have an account in my home of record, the last time I was home I didn’t have any money to open an account and there was great reluctance from some to offer help and advice.   Why?

When all this paperwork is done and the bank thing is settled I will be sent to Kandahar.  I will be the only teacher in Kandahar.  Ha ha.  Isolated like never before.  Mother of Jesus where are we going with this one, I don’t know.  This morning I have my security briefing.  Walt, an American who has worked here for three years has seen three of his smart phones disappear.  When we leave the office, lock it up.  I watched a man come into the office yesterday and he snooped around, I thought he was a cleaner, he’s on the campus, he must have a job, but what did he want so I watched him until he finally left empty handed.  Poverty, war, despair, it brings the worse out of many and no amount of Islam is going to help.

3.07pm—My jacket was on the floor.  What a dope I am.

My two hour security briefing was exhausting.  Basically I was informed what to do in case of an attack, indirect attack, a kidnapping and I signed a waiver that in the likelihood I choose to wander to a corner shop to buy boxed milk they call ‘liquid tea whitener’ and something happens, the university is not at fault.  I also completed a ‘proof of life’ form with four questions and answers no one knows but me in case I get kidnapped. 

Rule #1 if you’re kidnapped:  Relax

Thoughts of traveling around this city and country are looking very bleak.  I am depressed and terribly tired, in three hours there is some kind of Eid celebration in the gymnasium.    If only I’d stop yawning.

Last night Anna of Europa made a nice egg vegetable salad and invited me to dine with her. She also served a drink that consists of yogurt and mint and a few other spices and I wanted to put it on my salad.  Thank you Anna.

So, anything else on your third day in the ancient city?  Several staff here have asked how I like Afghanistan.  I haven’t seen Afghanistan.  And who knows, maybe I won’t.  Driving between cities is pretty much a huge no-no which leaves flying and I’d like to visit a number of places, sure, getting a hippy trail up and running again isn’t going to be easy, but there's still hope I can meet someone who’ll be inspired and someone I can help.