I was sitting next to my mother, mid-flight. We were probably a couple thousand feet over central Asia - Russia, China, Mongolia, I don't know. There were trees and grass, so my guess is that it wasn't the Gobi desert. There were several intercom announcements detailing how the world's biggest powers, Russia, China, and the U.S., were fully mobilizing for war. The urgency was ever-so-slightly muted by the glaring absence of a reason, but nuclear war being a zero-sum game, I was nervous nonetheless. The sky had turned dark despite the fact that it was daytime, so I started to contemplate life post-nuclear holocaust. It seemed like the kind of thing one plans for. And as I worried about the future of all existence, the plane flipped into a downwards barrel roll, and we headed straight for the ground at 600 miles per hour. For about 7 seconds I considered the possibility that the plane could right itself, probably knocking everyone on board unconscious in a 4G sudden change of direction. Then we died.
1. Pat has been trying to "geolocate" me with Google Earth ("It's an art." - Pat Opet, Mar. 25, 07), based solely on the scant photos I have provided. After much discussion, we have decided to turn this into a contest, open to all. Not that anyone but him will participate. Anyway, I'm going to take some photos of my apartment. Then I'm going to take some photos of various landmarks around the city, looking at said landmarks from the direction of my apartment. That way, by drawing some lines and finding out at which coordinates they intersect, you can divine exactly where on this brown blob of misery dripping into the Atlantic I live. And, as always, we're open to suggestions.
2. About a month ago, Ousmane Ba moved in with me. He is an English teacher in NDB, and as of two weeks ago, he works at the same school at which I work. The man is in his mid thirties, just got married in January (his wife is finishing a doctorate degree in Dakar), and is Pulaar. He speaks 4 or 5 languages, and is relatively progressive. So I put forward the following proposition: come up with some questions for Ousmane, and comment or email them to me. I will then make a brief video in which he answers said question(s), and if there are enough, it will become a semi-regular feature. Don't be shy about the content - I will take care not to offend his delicate sensibilities.
3. G. Jane and G. Bob, please check your email. Because I sent an email. To your email.
4. Larium. It's a different adventure every night.
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6 comments:
This is an odd post. The first blurb sounds like the kind of anxious dream I had as a child after a grade school drill for procedure in the event of a nuclear attack. We were instructed to crawl under our desks and hold our hands over our heads. The unspoken instruction was, "Kiss your ass goodbye." It was a time when civil air defense and bomb shelter pamphlets could be found on coffee tables around the neighborhood. The Cuban Missle crisis didn't help anxiety levels. Is this what the Larium causes? Do you dread going to sleep at night?
The Google Earth challenge may also be taken up by your Father. We have been checking out whether or not the picture of our neighborhood and house area has changed since we had to have the giganto ash tree taken out. It may be possible to see our house if it is ever revised.
Please ask Ousmane about how he became involved with the Peace Corp in Mauritania. Did you not say before that he works for the Peace Corp? Is he originally from Mauritania? Where was he educated?
Is he trying to teach you any of the languages he knows and you don't? Are you a good student? Is he Muslim, if so is he Shiite or Sunni and what is the difference and why the strife between the sects? If he is not Muslim, what are his spiritual beliefs? That may be too personal or rude. Does he have any opinions about the current educational system there? What does he think of Mauritania's economic prospects now that oil is being produced? How will global warming affect his country? I could think of alot more questions, but that's enough for now.
'Glad to have talked to you Sunday evening and sorry we got cut off. We will call again in a week or two.
OMG, you mean we wouldn't have been safe under our desks?! I may have to rethink childhood...
Yes I google-earthed Nouadibhu months ago. So give us some clues as to what part of the city to look for.
Where are all your loyal readers and commenters?
Stright from Nouakchott:
http://africa.reuters.com/world/news/usnL03722294.html
I don't know if you have time to browse...but I watched this documentary the other night and the accompanying website is rather good:
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americannovel/?campaign=pbshomefeatures_1_novelreflectionsontheamericandream_2007-04-05
Being that you are in Africa and rather far away, in a country that is (ahem) technologically inferior, I never would have guessed it was you calling, but much to my suprise, the chants of "show your butt!" (or was it "show your balls?") definitely made my 2007 (which is still rather young)!!!!!!
In any case, if you really want, I'll show you my butt any day.
as you were...
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