Loss

Many of the PC volunteers from Bangladesh will be leaving soon.

As I've briefly mentioned before, there have been some bombs and some threats from radical muslim groups. They've said that they're planning to target schools (where some PCV's work), and one threat even mentioned targeting any woman not wearing a burka (the head-to-toe covering for a Muslim woman), among other things. So, people are justifiably freaked out. The government is too corrupt and petty to do much about it, though many arrests by the Rapid Action Batallion (popular police) have been going down recently. Some volunteers have been near the places where bombs have exploded prior to that, one or two even knew people who died. As foreigners, we are easily recognizeable and though we haven't been made targets yet, some figure we're next on the list and soon things could get bad. Personally, I don't think things are that bad, and the frequency of the bombs has decreased significantly in the past couple of weeks as various leaders of the movement are caught. But still . . .

Peace Corps has responded by giving PC Bangladesh Volunteers the option of Interrupted Service ( = you can go home now without shame and start over again if you want to). I won't be taking this option (I feel pretty safe and I'm here for the long haul), but a few good friends will be. It's hard to see the numbers dwindle. It's like joining a real peace movement and slowly watching it die as the pressure and stress becomes too much for some.

A wave of temptation washed over me when I realized that if I decided to take the Interrupted Service, I could go to the wedding of Matt (one of the, if not the, best friends I have) which occurs in early January--just after I'd arrive back home. To be honest, I haven't really cared much about many of the weddings I've gone to . . just a few. Usually I find them overly formal, trite and empty--the real stuff of love happens long before and long after the wedding. But this would be the first wedding that I REALLY did not want to miss, would have done almost anything to attend. Cry for me, Argentina. The truth is, I left you.

* * * * *

Still, Christmas is going to be fun. I've got lights, friends coming from neighboring towns, some good food, a little alcohol, and maybe even a Christmas tree. I'm genuinely happy about a lot of things this Christmas. Moreso that most other Christmasesaseses past. Huh.

If you're havin girl problems I feel bad for you son

I promise not to talk about excrement or vomit this tiBAAAAAAAAAAARRRRFFF!!!! Ahem. This time. Got that out of my system. I think we're good now.

My kickin' vision for my "secondary project" (Peace Corps lingo for trying to do something good outside of just teaching English) is as follows:

Bangladesh is, according to Transparency International, the most corrupt country in the world for the fifth year in a row (better luck next time, Finland). And we got poverty and a crappy education system and all that stuff too . . Exhibit 1. Exhibit 2: There are a lot of early twentysomethings with nothing to do because after you finish college you have to wait almost a year to find out your final grades. Exhibit 3: There are a ton of NGO's (non-gov't org's) but very little volunteerism among this rather bored and restless demographic. Enter your boy (me), an English teacher, animal lover, and all around nice guy, who starts what I like to fantazmisize as The NGO Temp Agency. See, you get a month or two of free English coaching, which is good for your career, you listless Bangladeshi 22-year-old. In return, you use a month or two (or more) of that free time of yours to volunteer with an NGO. It's a win-win-win situation, Ahmed, because get this--volunteer service ALSO looks good on your resume. Chalk one up for the non-extremist moderate and socially aware good guys.

So that'd be pretty cool if it worked out, sometime down the road, maybe a half-year or so in the future. I know, I know, the world was supposed to be saved by then. You know Bob, I've moved on, I think it's time you did too, mnealright?

Found a Bangladeshi version of Monopoly yesterday. So amazingly awesomely crappy you can't believe it. The misspellings, the hollow plastic dice that aren't anything resembling cubical (cubular? cubist? cubert? cute?) the property cards printed on typing paper and hand-cut with a pair of scissors, the playing pieces which are one step down from a button. But it's all there, and playing will be a blast.

With one little poof of aerosol insecticide in the bathroom this morning before my shower, I murdered exactly 24 mosquitoes. See, you gotta close the door and the windows for about 15 minutes afterwards and then come in and survey the carnage. It's sort of like finishing a level of DOOM--if you're kind of a sissy about bugs. Which I am.