it's only ten

9:51am

I didn’t think I’d be doing my last laundry here city power comes and a wash is going then the city power stops and the rinse is done in a bucket and five shirts three underwear and three pair of socks are hanging on a line in the garden.  It is a beautiful day in Kandahar and I am afraid to say it but it is just too nice to be doing anything in the house but what can I do, what have I done for the last eight months but suck it up. 

7:35pm

I walked to a pharmacy with S.W. for something for my headache, lower back, and generally for my knees that have endured eight months of sitting yoga like for meals and every time when I get up I wonder what I did wrong.  I’ll be happy to sit at a table on a chair and eat cereal.

I gave the last test this afternoon and all the students asked when the next class would start and I simply directed them to S.W.  I didn’t, I don’t want to say goodbye to these guys.  They’re good people who unfortunately because of ancient and unshakable traditions just don’t know anything about women and simply follow the way it has always been because in their eyes if nothing is broken, why fix it.  Well, for one and only one response is the Taliban brought the burqa in 2001 and you can easily remove it.

8:22pm

I could hardly eat an egg and I threw out the toast, and twenty minutes later out it comes and quickly, my glass of black tea remains half full.  I think I’ll go to sleep because the weak Pakistani tramadol must be working. 

3.15.16

5:30am

This is far too early to be up so let’s pack the backpack.  The Herati carpet folded somehow will have to fit in the swiss suitcase along with all the clothes I haven’t worn in eight months and it could be a very tight fit.  What stays if necessary?

I know I shouldn’t be inhaling any kind of sacred if you respect it medicine before dawn and with a class at seven thirty, johnny wants to be a jack lord help everyone.

While nothing is certain right now this holiday doesn’t count against my accrued days.  I could, I might, I will ask about these days. 

Which means I need to pack my bathing suit in my carry on, Hua Hin looks nice, Larnaca looks better, I don’t know but I am thinking four months in the grimy lockdown capital…

A morning vomit, how odd, a few sips of last night’s black tea and up it comes.  I hope coffee in ten minutes fares better.

15 minutes later, a few sips of coffee and a cigarette!  What?  No, what are you doing before seven in the morning?  There is a med student in the morning class and we’re gonna do some realia role play I think I can climb the stairs.  Ha, o lordy lou Jack.  Let’s switch to bottled water.

8:58am

My student said of course tramadol from Pakistan is cut and it may be the reason for vomiting, but I’m remembering last night’s food wasn’t right, was it the food or me, if it was me it was before I took the tramadol.  I think.

I’m not telling the students I am outta here I am telling them the inevitable without coming out direct.  A form of communication that is better than full frontal nudity of any kind appears to be the proper way, at least for me.  It is kind of strange when I consider the only native English teacher in the second largest city in Afghanistan is leaving in two days. 

The boss told me last night we were gonna visit the forty steps today.  That would be nice, I have ample time today, can I say that I still have paperwork to do and eleven five page tests to grade and record and and.  Can I bring my camera I have to.

If we don’t go, oh well, I think I’ll lay down, ok it’s only ten.