may you never squeeze

I turned off the a/c last night and opened the windows.  Sixty degrees is good sleeping weather but I didn’t account for the roosters and I didn’t account for the sore throat which brings me to wonder why the hell I didn’t bring any amoxicillin.  I got everything else.

A driver took me to the bank to open an account and despite the dreary disposition among the Afghans who probably want the bank to work for them but who or what has ever worked for them, the left handed woman customer service officer named Benafsha looking sickly with a pasty pall told me after a 20 minute sit that I needed a work permit to open an account.  Now I am sure the fine folks in Finance knew this and the head dude in HR knew this, nevertheless I came back to the pretty, quiet campus and was told maybe I could open the account in Kandahar.  They really want me in Kandahar but we stall and wait.  Five days in Kabul and what the hell have I done other than get to know a few of the brave souls here. 

The office is right next to the cafeteria and in line to get my macaroni and beef, a slice of stale bread and a three bean salad and bottle of water for 180 Afghanis ($3) I met Todd from Lancaster PA.  I told him where I was headed and that I’d be the only teacher there and feared if anyone came in asking for lessons on Aviation English.  “Oh, that’s my specialty” and he gave me his card.  ‘What a strange coincidence for you to say that.”  Nothing is strange about coincidences, bud, though don’t ask me what this one means.

Right now the office has three teachers prepping for their 4:30pm class two hours in advance, I’m impressed or this is simply an indicator there is nothing else to do when security fears for your life; go to class, go to home, go to class, no go to market, blah blah.

 There is Walt from Arizona once upon a time, John from San Diego once upon a time, Erika, who I worked with Gazientep five years ago, and is shipping off to AU Cairo in a fortnight, and Shahla, an Afghani teacher who remains to herself but is pleasant when necessary.  I am writing this blog and not feeling a bit guilty about it.  I was given the textbooks and was told I’d most likely use them but who knows, really, who the hell knows. 

The mini bus returns to the Phoenix house at five and I will be on it.  I will ask the driver to stop somewhere along the way so I can jump out and buy some liquid tea whitener and what else looks semi edible.  I’ll also buy some detergent, a small box is suffice, and a lighter.  I lost my lighter and that is the greatest mystery. 

So, is that it today?  The Internet at the house works once in a while.  It’s a funny place.  There are three levels and each level has four apartments.  There is a large communal kitchen and I was assigned a refrigerator.  Anna, who lives on my level, also has a full sized fridge.  There is a dining room in the center where it would be nice to eat if it weren’t so hot, and a large terrace where I go out and look down at the guards with their machine guns, fingers always on the triggers.  May you never squeeze, dudes.