When Sunday is on a Friday

Well, last of the staff arrived today. We’ve been waiting for Jane since September. From Yorkshire. Problems with visas and medicals and all that nonsense. Makes me realize how fortunate I was. Which is why I keep saying, it was meant to be. I looked at Jane, fresh off the plane. Of course she’s a bit out of sorts. Not that it’s her first post abroad. She taught in Taiwan before. But seeing her, made me think of my first day. Boy, I actually prefer not to think about it. The craziest thing I’ve ever done and actually the scariest too. And here I am – two months down the line – AND STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!

The psychological effect of having been threatened with death, in no uncertain terms, is comparable to having a loaded gun pointed at you. It stays with you. Was listening to some gospel music. It is after all my Sunday. Panus Angelicus. It touches my soul every time I listen to it. I thought about life and how fragile it is – not just for me. For all of us, all of the time. People get born, people die, people all over the world are so goddamn lonely. I also feel alone at times even though I do have people around me. But I miss the comfort of belonging and being amongst loved ones – friends and family. I realize how precious everyone is to me. I realize that … never mind. The mind has shut down.

I don’t know why I’m so sad tonight. It’s not been a bad day at all. I think what I’m learning here, is never to take anything for granted. Not the water that runs from the tap, not the light that goes on when I throw the switch. The ability to drive. To be mobile. To drink wine. To have choices. To talk to people, male, female, stranger, friend. The absence of prayer calls. I am extremely tolerant. But the prayer calls sometimes gets to me – especially over week-ends when it is very quiet and that loudhailer starts blaring. To me it does feel like indoctrination and it does feel as if it’s infringing on my space. (Please accept my apologies if you’re Muslim – it’s not a criticism – just being honest about how it makes me feel.) I am use to hearing church bells on a Sunday and that is a comforting sound. But not five times a day every day.

I hear three sounds daily – the prayer calls, the cats fighting, and the water running through the pipes as the pump gets switched on. One day I’ll be in a place with no prayer calls and I’ll probably wake up thinking:”What the hell is wrong!”