backside of a semi

 

August 30 Classes Begin!

Upon my return to Kabul everyone- gardener, drivers, escorts, guards– has greeted me warmly – pleased that I ‘’ve returned when others have not. Maybe they are surprised? (It has never occurred to me not to return bec of the situation in country.) They’re response to my arrival is sweet but nothing quite matches the reaction of my students- it seems like nothing less than Love- can I really say this! yes that is what it feels like, the eye connection . . and grand smiles -I’m still feeling the glow 24 hrs later. I had a total of about 30 students last semester and I think I really connected with each one of them ..
Story: Last semester my friend Richie was searching the web for my blog and found one posted by one of my students who had some pretty negative things to say about my teaching style. I thought I knew who it was as I’d only one student who was really challenging so I was quite shocked to discover it was A. Yesterday when I saw him he greeted me with a giant smile, “”I’m in your class! “”He announced with undisguised enthusiasm. What! “What about all those terrible things you said about me on your blog?”He didn’t seem the least chagrined. “”Oh, that was a long time ago, things changed.””
Late in the evening before my last class (thank god creative writing where I can actually relax in my true element.) It’s Iftar, the daily breaking of the Ramadan fast . The cafeteria has made wonderful greasy treats wrapped in newspaper, various fried offerings filled with potatoes. I carry some out to the lawn- it’s a balmy night and all around on the benches or sitting on the grass are clusters of young men, save two young women on a bench- I head toward them and invite my self to sit, they are pleased, seem to know who I am- “We are taking your creative writing course they reveal excitedly. All the boys say you are a great teacher! “”
Injection of pure adrenaline. It was a long day that I’’d been dreading. Four 1.5 hr classes beginning at 9AM and ‘not leaving campus until 8:30. It was daunting but the sincerity of these students seems nothing short of miraculous so that all else seems to pale.
The evening ended with a terrific lightening storm- continuous strikes one after the other for over an hour (one of my colleagues thought the suddenly light filled night sky was something else until I assured her I’d seen a strike). I could see it all vividly from my rooftop solarium. It ended in a welcome crashing downpour momentarily clearing the city’s cloud of dust. It actually came pouring through the roof so that I had to unplug everything to insure I wouldn’t electrocute myself in the middle of the night on my way to the bathroom.

Back Inside

And I’m stuck inside a mobile with the memphis blues again- does that ever happen to you?-dylan lyrics just drop from the sky to describe the current page of life, in this case, severe downward spiraling impasse-what am I DOING HERE! Who knows what he meant -but after arriving in suicide bomber central-ok that’s exaggeration and the least of my worries

In severe jet lag I make my way to the French bakery after 24 hrs of no Food: Pamir Air serves Water, that’s right, Water, the stewardess tells me giggling-if you want a meal you should have, not that one had a lot or any options since the plane was supposed to leave at 3 PM and then changed its mind abruptly to 11:30 AM, barely time to get thru myriad security customs before doors close

French Bakery is not really French but the closest thing to nearby treat and respite -no more meat pies but there’s still homemade yogurt in the case

“”Where do you get fresh milk?”” I ask for no reason. Oh , we use Nestle-NESTLE!&+^3$ aargh- the company with skull & crossbones in invisible ink SMEARING all products, the scourge of the world’s infant formula

Before passing out I open all the doors and windows to escape the burning heat of Kabul in August and wake in the middle of the night gasping for air (as in asthma)-oh, FORGOT ABOUT CLOUD OF DUST SUFFUSING LANDSCAPING AND every thing in apt including lungs

I pour tall glass of water and taste heavy duty chlorine like what you use to get wine stain off white dress.

And I haven’t even confronted real agony that’s keeping me awake all night in this time zone I haven’t arrived at yet : 3 work- horse sections of advanced academic writing requiring minute examination of 60 plus papers and all their MLA’s and ALA’s or whatever the they are (how should I KNOW, I’M A PLAYWRIGHT FOR CHRISSAKE, we don’t do that) and isn’t almost everything plagiarism in some form or other and/or in the big picture as in where this is all taking place, etc . . .

There may be some of you not prepared for next statement coming from me but . . .there’s nothing left to do but pray! who? The universe? My ancestors? Well someone must have been listening because the next morning I GO online and find a solution. There’s still industrial strength chlorine in the water , no Nestle- free yogurt and I’ve had to seal out the balmy sandstorm night, but at least I can sleep knowing my students and I won’t have to sit through industrial strength academic writing.

And blissed out though whiz bang Oregon Cali Horse Creek summer went a long ways to help deal (see gingerninjasbicyclemusicfest photo).

gingerninjasbicyclemusicfest