Selling Home, Foreign Loans

oday is Friday morning, Juma, the day of religious rest. Closing on my house should have occurred Thursday, but I have no word from e-mail on what went down. Even my bank's website is down, so I can not check my account balance. It is still 11:30 P.M. Thursday on the East Coast. Guess I'll wait and see if anyone contacts me Friday.
In my running around, I've found various neighborhoods that have abandoned houses without roofs; I call these places Kharabaa (badlands) and people seem to know what I'm talking about. There is construction in every quarter of K-Town. My own economic analysis (remember my undergrad degree was in economics, from Universidad Latina de Costa Rica):
So much money in foreign loans is pouring in that a post-Taliban national banking system has had no chance to develop. Opportunities to give loans using national money are non-existant due to the easy money that is coming from overseas (negative interest rates - most foreign loans do not need to be paid back in full). Since right now no one would want to receive a loan in national currency and agree to pay a positive interest rate , no deposits in national money would make any profits for banks. In fact, the mattress, not the bank, is where large sums of national money are being kept. No one here deposits money - national banks are not in business to receive them.
In a conversation I reccommended that the goverment quickly take up some of the Karabaa in central K-Town (before anyone builds on it) and make a park - plant some trees. (K-Town has a continual dark cloud, not of smog, but of dust - no trees/plants hold down the topsoil.) Khalid shook his head. There used to be a huge park in the center of town. The Taliban cut it down and built a huge mosque (that very few people attend). Once a mosque is built, it must remain. Still, I believe, someone must have the foresight to replace those trees. Construction is booming - what K-Town is today is not what it will be even three months from now.

Starting IAM Tutoring

Back to work but still feeling slow. My strength and utility comes from endurance; it will not be too helpful to be learning the language if I just stay for a year or two; it is only when I stay longer that dividends will accrue to that investment. Therefore, me learning how to rest here is a good thing. I passed by IAM (International Aid Mission) and signed up for eight hours of tutoring this week. They are known for a 5 1/2 month introductory course, mandatory for all IAM workers and available to other foreigners, but after an interview recommended that I skip it and move on. Persian script started to make sense to me last night. If I learn how to read Persian, it will solve a lot of structural issues and greatly expand my vocabulary. I'll try IAM ($6 /hour) and see if it is any better than teaching myself (which seems to be working, though too slowly). In the USA I would spend hours listening to tapes and memorizing vocabulary - an offshoot of the "audio-lingual" approach that was popular in American High School language classes from WWII until about 1980. Here in K-Town, I am immersed and use an offshoot of Dr. Brewster's "Bonded Belonger" approach, but sometimes revert to audio lingual, especially when my brain is fried from not understanding much. Now I've begun reading and writing instruction and do not know what kind of tutoring IAM will give.

7/25
Enrolling in the IAM language school (Christy Wilson founded IAM, named because He is, and invented International Assistance Mission or some such name to fit the acronym), they made a big deal of the fact that though $6 paid for one hour of personal instruction, there was a 10 minute break; instruction was to be 50 minutes per session. During my first break, the instructor showed me the tea room; we sat down and conversed - it was a simple continuation of class in a different setting - he continued to correct and improve my Dari. My second day during break, two of IAM's best teachers were having tea with me. Later, 5 other students came in for tea. That makes three students to a teacher, right? (1t/3s) Wrong - American math is different. It equaled (2t/1s) + 5s. I had both teachers to myself while the other expats spoke English in a way that excluded the teachers from their conversation ( the teachers spoke some English and you can make your speech easier to understand if you try, - these particular students were not trying). The fact that this was a language learning opportunity for me was clearly secondary to the insult that these students were showing to the teachers. Maybe I'm a confused newcomer or maybe here people respect teachers more, but to me it seemed a great embarrassment. I joined the English conversation in such a way that the teachers might understand. After someone made an interesting commentary very rapidly, I made my first attempt at translation, for the teachers. When the expat had made two or three more interesting points, his first idea was becoming clear to the teachers. I will not be translating professionally into Dari any time soon. Was I the only expat that saw this as rude? Apparently so. The teachers greatly respect me as a student; certainly I am different. In addition to the lessons I pay for, I know I can sit in the tearoom for any length of time and receive free conversation class; I do not, however, wish to take advantage. My instructors told me that after I learn Dari, I should continue and quickly pickup Pashto and Urdu (languages used from here to Pakistan). Right now, fluent Dari still seems an impossibilty, yet my teachers believe I will quickly learn. I respect them.

Holy Friday

Got to talk a little bit; if they didn't understand I'm sure Dad did. Another good day of rest it was. I've learned to give myself Dari lessons, and this has taken up most of the time I used to use to read books. Expanded on my text to include a discussion on the function of the human heart (not the medical function), how it gets input for thoughts, emotions and routines (I now say "customs and traditions") and makes personal decisions as an output. Each heart is unique, I don't respond to inputs the same way you do. Good day for trying out such an esoteric topic with the choquedors. Went to a special Korean restaurant with a special American friend and his family for dinner. Had private rooms for frank discussion, good to dine listening to music from Third Day. They've been here 10 years and live just on the other side (towards downtown) of a mountain called TV hill. That is just beyond K-Town University, where I have ran before, and my next run might be to find a way around the mountain to the west (I went to the east on my first day's run - way too many cars). I must stay near the road (no problem) because the uninhabited parts of the mountain have been mined. They know lots of families, including some with ISK students. A great privilege it is, this position Dad has put me in. Something I've been preparing for years w/o knowing it.

Saturdayish Wednesday

In the USA we had a name for days like today. Tomorrow, Friday, is the religious rest day and the following day we will start the new work week. Today, Thursday, is a slow day. A lot of the NGO (Non- Government Organizations) have the office closed all day today. One of my local friends told me that IAM has some language stuff worth looking into, but they were closed. I am slow today. I went running more than I should have and feel tired. Missed the early meeting. Made only two rounds at the worksites (usually make three). Spent a lot of time on the computer, and even there stopped to talk to a young man for an hour or two (language learning, you know). My arms feel tired because I did some heavy lifting two days ago - today seems like the right day to begin to feel that. Told David I'd go with him to meet people from the other NGO's then took a nap instead. Lots of reading, lots of studying. Days like today have a name in America. I think we used to call them Satur days.

Define "Clean"

Today I feel sick in a healthy sort of way. I can tell that a microbe war is going on in my stomach, yet I have no fever, no energy loss, no bowel problems. Probably the swamp I visited yesterday gave my immune system a chance to get up and fight. Different cultures have differing ideas on what "clean" and "dirty" are. To some, floors are "clean", so shoes must be removed. Americans who do not know me well may balk at the idea that I am an meticulously "clean" person, yet based on the germ theory of disease transmission I certainly am. You may have noticed the breakfast stains on my wrinkled clothes, my unwashed car full of the kids' candy wrappers, lots of things that in the USA mean "dirty" but that do not often transmit disease; these have never been important to me. Yet I am a frequent and thorough hand washer, my teeth get flossed after brushing and my tongue gets scraped - several times a day now that I am a ripe candidate for microbe attacks. Germs have a hard time doing their exponential growth thing in my biosystem. No hygiene habit changes are necessary for me to live in the third world. My American opposites are the "double breasted" types; you've seen them in the bathrooms of the USA. They spend a great deal of time adjusting their clothing in front of the mirror, yet walk out after only a ceremonial dampening of the hands (usually after they've put those hands all over their clothes). How can you live like that without getting sick (We ask ourselves silently as we look at each other)? My cleanliness is partly why the School District of Philadelphia now owes me back pay for so many sick days I never took. It could be partly why the short termers around me are routinely in bed with the K-Town crud, while I have been up and about each day, dirty shoes on my feet and a freshly scraped tongue in my mouth (never touch the tongue of a person with clean shoes). Microbe attacks have to go elsewhere to grow exponentially so I just get a little sick; no energy loss. Maybe I'll go running tomorrow morning. Or maybe I speak too soon, I've been here not quite a week.

Not Lost, Language Texts

I did go running this morning and, contrary to common opinion I DID NOT GET LOST. It was just that the road turned out to go farther south than it was expected to. First, I went southwest and explored a possible route to the farmlands. It was a dirt road, one way in and one way out. After two or three miles I turned back - (ran out of bread crumbs). Then, two laps around the local field. Several soccer teams were practicing - all the boys in short pants, and there I was, long sweat pants on in 80 degree heat trying to be "culturally appropriate". Well, since I didn't stay long on the field maybe the sweat pants were a good idea. Off to the east towards the swamp, trying to find a road that will put houses between me and the sewage. Running north up the east side I had some partial success. On the north end, I found the bridge that goes from there, further northeward, towards downtown and also another southbound road that successfully circumnavigates the swamp to the west. Victory! Well, partial victory. Another poor neighborhood with a dusty road. -little boys carrying naan (bread) home for breakfast, adults in cars and on bikes, teenagers on bikes, everybody on foot. But the southbound road did not end; it just kept going south. Every time I thought of turning around, I thought, "no, it ends just around the next bend", but it never did. Finally I gave the mandatory greeting to a young man on a bike and asked him where the " Street du la maan" was. He told me he was heading in that direction, so we ambled even further south together. Dirty village gave way to farms. He said that locals did not own the farm (impossible, from my rather limited understanding of the real estate laws), and stopped at his job, several yards short of the main drag. Heading north on a crowded, gas filled road (which was exactly what I had wanted to avoid), I greeted (mandatory) a teenage boy on a bike and got assurance that my bearings were indeed correct. He works ("every job") at University of K-Town (went there last time I ran). He studies in tenth grade, and thinks the teachers are mostly good. He cut west a little before I was going to, but I went with him just to get a look at a new part of town. Found my field (the one where the soccer kids wear the short pants), and headed home, an hour later than I'd planned, half an hour late for group meeting.
Dr. Elizabeth Brewster recommends the production and editing of text speeches for beginning language learners. Though she has been a mentor of mine, I have not bought the "text" idea hook, line and sinker (I did try it at first using Spanish in Costa Rica). But I do notice that improvised texts are unavoidable for language learners. For example, I figure out how to say that I teach sixth grade, and what I do and do not teach in my class and find myself repeating and expanding on this same "text" to many people. Later, I throw in that I'm good at teaching math because of my experience on a nuclear submarine, and if they bite, I can launch into another "text" that I've invented that describes life onboard the submarine. I am not as purposeful at developing and editing texts as Dr. Brewster proposes. I do not prepare them beforehand, they just sort of happen. Yet I find myself reviewing things I've said and planning on improvements for next time - and that is the basic idea of a language learner's "text". Let me give an example of another text I use. I criticize my own religion, the lack of power that some have though they read our book and go faithfully to our meetings because there is nothing new in their hearts. Dad's power comes from our heart and we must have Dad powerfully alive in our hearts if we are to work his power. I'd get dirt on my book, let it stay on the floor when not read it - it makes no difference to me. My power comes when the Father of the book, though He be perfect, can live in my heart, not from the book itself. This text has been well received (at least I think) in several different situations. Twice it has drawn applause.

Pix - Flying In

"Karte Char Palace" - ISK Woman Teachers' Home- Entrance

In making the decision to come here, overcoming fear was never a consideration. On the flight out of London Two good movies were available that I had not seen (HotelRwanda and The Aviator) and I was able to watch them, and so did not notice that a new day had dawned (no sleep) and I had not met with Him. As we were flying over Iraq and Iran deep fear started to set in. It was like Peter, who, having been called, got out of the boat w/o fear, than half way out, "saw the wind" (which is invisible) and began to sink. The Father spoke to me that morning through Hebrews 12, the chapter of faith. Faith always overcomes fear. And so the hand of the Father rescued me again. Upon arrival at the airport at Dubai (one stop before K-Town) I met many people from my new country, made acquaintance and entered my new country in a faithful (fearless) way.Today I write this from our beautiful (though incomplete) ISK facility. Iam pleasantly surprised - running water in the bathrooms and everything! These truly are light afflictions.

Today I write this from our beautiful ISK facility. I am pleasantly surprised - running water in the bathrooms and everything made of beautiful new tile and marble, multiple sun decks, gardens - luxury!
The people here are so friendly. Yesterday I was invited into a man's house, sipping tea, looking over the college books his son had presented to me upon my request and in the course of conversation (my Dari is extremely rough) realized that I had made a mistake and had no previous acquaintance with this man nor his family. Ooooops.
Write when you get the chance.
We've got to put together a World Class School (enrollment has tripled - people are coming at great cost and risk) and the buildings are not constructed, the teachers have not reviewed the curriculum, the administration has not set any policies and the staff is, though very high quality (all experienced teachers who have a history of doing much more than classroom teaching), new to the school. Only with His help will we hit the ground running - the challenge is high.

2 pix

Inside the Karte Char Palace. 2nd floor common area.

Gordon Magney's adult literacy book is fascinating me, but I do not remember where I was nor why the children's toys are all around.