hell on earth

I started working on the resume workshop at seven this morning, but before I did that I finished All the Light We Cannot See, a subdued and kind of unsatisfying conclusion, nevertheless the rest of it was riveting, and then I had breakfast with five men; bread, green tea and some egg dish mixed with tomatoes and chives.  I returned to work, marking essays from the first toefl class and by this time it was after two so I made a cup of coffee and worked on tomorrow’s pre test test and Sunday’s test for the morning class.  I finished this a little after six pm.

And Friday is supposed to be my day off.

The house is mostly quiet but is made more so when the electricity is completely off all day until the solar is turned on at seven.

A little child, a baby really, washed up on the shore and a world is shocked and disgusted.  How evil man is, how evil religion used by man is.  And yet here God is praised in mosques and churches and temples, oh great God, thank you so much for what you’ve done in my life and yes, Lord, such death and evil, it breaks your metaphorical heart and you do not a damn thing.  Shame.

Oh look, God’s people are moved to compassion and there is a conscience in England, we’ll take more refugees.  It takes the senseless loss of a baby to slay the cold indifference in people and surely the little child is in a better place with his brother and mother and his father walks through hell on earth.

Yesterday I was asked if I was bored, only when I cannot see life through an altered prism, like tonight, all is clear and dull.  Every pressed letter is like walking through cement, fluidity in the bored mind dries up. 

One of yesterday’s writing essay questions was to describe a recent event and how it affected you.  One student applauded the presence of the Chinese and their willingness to help with Kandahar’s electricity problem, though you can’t trust those Chinese, what do they want in return?  Another wrote of his desire to leave the country because corruption is so bad, thwarting any efforts for stability, one commented on the baby on the beach and proposed we do all we can to stop people from fleeing their failed countries.  I’ll remind him he was lucky he was accepted by the country next to him when all hell broke loose.

And before I turned in tonight after eating two large Afghani samosas, there was a sobering conversation with Saffiq on his country’s efforts to find peace somewhere and no one believes there will ever be peace.  Never!!  It ends a sad day, for me, for all who see and hear suffering, and I sure as hell hope God is plenty sad, but what a mockery God’s involvement is on this burning planet.  Leaving it up to humanity is just the stupidest thing God ever did.  How many times do we fail before we succeed?  And how many lives are lost because life just sucks for so many.  I would have every right to embrace atheism right now, acknowledging divinity in nature is all I have left and here I am not seeing nature at all.  It’s the same as Buraimi only more isolated.  If only I could have some organic medicine then I can go under into another reality, behind the bookcase and live without life around me.  What else can I do?

In the meantime, I’ll start A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini.  Surely stories of horror for women in this country will make the present a pleasant walk through the landmines.