bathroom dreams

10:13pm

In the business class this morning I went over how to write a business plan and when I was sure everyone understood the basic format of one I gave them their assignment which was to write one for the new business they would start.  “Imagine, you are your own boss, how would you plan it?”  Earlier a show of hands showed how much everyone would love to have their own business, to be their own man, to be free, even at great risk, to decide their own future. 

Then the student named Angel, who works in the HR, said it is company policy that no employee may plan any work that is in contrast to their employment at Roshan.  In other words, imagining, dreaming about work that is not part of their job description is not permitted and anyone caught doing so would be subject to dismissal.  I was, to say the least, upset and joked everyone would have to dream in their bathroom, dream of being their own boss in the confines of their toilet.  Big laughs, bathroom dreams, they all said in unison. 

Like I did in Kandahar I trumpeted the prospects of the tourism industry, a gold mine for people without education and how long will we wait before I can take a six hour taxi with guide to Bamiyan, I don’t know.  It is frustrating, it is disappointing, and I think I have been way too naïve about this place.

In the evening class I talked about the Afghan ambassador to the US, Hamdullah Mohib and several students had met him, several were friends of his, wow, cool, and they shared his frustration that today’s generation has to fight against this inherited war, the insane and selfish conflict that one student tried to explain was complicated.  Very complicated he said, it goes back to the creation of Pakistan and men.  Men.  I’ve read too much of men who wish war would continue because peace would destabilize, God help us.  Really.

I am as packed as I can be, a couple of t-shirts, socks and so forth, my swimsuit, the most important thing in my bag for three nights in the big shwarma.  I’m actually wondering if I’ll bring my camera, I haven’t taken too many photos of the place the last two times I’ve been there and I know exactly what I’m gonna see and where I’ll go, I’ll have the smart aleck phone.  Ok.  Mr. Leica, take a break.

Two of the students also from the evening class followed me back to the office because I had information about French scholarships and the girls asked if they could take photos of me with them.  You are so kind, sir, please always be our teacher.  So sweet.  Well, I am kind because you are kind, _______and_______.  And that’s true.  If they were pain in the butts, I wouldn’t be kind, but they are kind and if only I could stay another year, what would you need to remain here, God help me, a wife?  A dog?  Freedom to travel in this country?  A wife?  two dogs? 

The next time I visit the blog will be Saturday.  If for any reason the plane crashes or the van we go to the airport in tomorrow is hit by a missile and we’re all incinerated instantly, let it be known I don’t hold any ill will towards God.  So much hatred, so much suffering, God knew today’s media was gonna show us everything, it must disappoint the old fella, it must hurt when people in Allah’s name kill people, but let it be known God has to intervene, He, She, Om, has to because no matter how hard we try we’ll always have war, we’ll always have the poor.  And now that we know so much more, only divine intervention is gonna save us.  So once again, to close, Maranatha and good night.