starting clean

6:30am--Saffi had forgotten to call a doctor because other things were on his mind. His brother and five mates were picked up in Iran and are waiting to be deported back to Pakistan.  Will they return to Kandahar and regroup and try another route to Europe, perhaps.  In the meantime the stitches in my gut itch to be removed.

Which is now planned to happen this morning.  After breakfast.  I am not ready to teach this afternoon, I have to be productive and stay warm at the same time.  Yesterday we were supposed to have city electricity and there was nothing and the water geyser is cold.  How many days will I go without a shower, hey, if there is no hot water and it is cold in the room and in the building and outside it would like to frost, I don’t know. 

I cooked pasta last night, feeling an unconscious need to do so for Fezel and Saffi and then we went for a walk for ice cream which was quite tasty.  I don’t understand what is going on when I don’t understand the language but leaving money for the man who cooked lunch two days ago set in motion discussions with him and Saffi who I had told I had given money to him because I assumed the meal deal arrangement only covered breakfast.  I was wrong, it covers lunch as well so I joked the man should return the money to me because he didn’t pay for the food, he only cooked it.  And yet, I think,  rewarding the effort is kind of obligatory but I don’t understand how the machinations of Afghani life works so I will bumble along and act innocent until I am caught in an intentional act.

Land lovers, city power returns and I take a shower and it really helps ya know, to start the day clean.

If I could make it through one year here I could, invariably, do something else for two.  The application procedure for KU is killing me.  I can’t comply with all the shit they’re asking for.  And I was told the process is what it is because thousands of Africans try to enroll with fake documents.  Nothing I have is fake, it’s all fucking original.  If I could just go and show my face and do all of it in front of them, well, dammit, isn’t that how it used to be?  Trust me when you meet me and talk to me.  I gotta be, what’s the word, a little more aggressive. 

It’s time to see a doctor.

(30 minutes later)

The hospital was built by the Japanese in 2002 and was managed by the Japanese until 2008 and since then it is struggling for everything.  The clean and tidy courtyards are full of women and children because the service here is free.  Volunteers they all are.  So I meet the man who is managing this little sanctuary alongside the Ayno Meeno border and we enter an examination room and an old fella with yellow teeth prepares the belly and pulls out the five stitches.  Done.  We leave and they take donations, they wouldn’t receive my money right now because there is politics going on and I don’t wish to step out of the lines so I told Saffi I wanted to donate at least to keep the place in supply of the most basic needs. 

All those little kids. 

Hanukkah turns on the fountain.  City electricity is a wonderful thing I keep saying.  Use the toaster, chill the milk, take another shower, watch tv, iron your socks,  read a book with a light in a dark corner of this big house. 

I have outlines for my first class in my head and we are ready to go there.  The next class, the wandering toefl class will do its post writing test so I have to make copies yahoo and then it’s tomorrow morning’s bunch.  After our last lesson they picked up the books so now we have something to use if necessary.  All these fellas want is to practice talking and I will try and accommodate that, adapting conversation exercises from reading and writing exercises takes time and energy and a nice cool, comfortable room to think and produce.  Ok?  you ready to work?