This post is like those crappy sitcom ‘specials’, which are actually reruns with just an added twist at the end. As the drums sound in the distance once more, I am sitting in my office, unable to concentrate on work, calmly thinking about what we have learned during the past three months:
I never liked the weather here. The lack of somewhere to walk in(to) has really intensified our general sense of entrapment. Ignorance (especially among those who should afford none), can be hilarious, irritating or disheartening, depending on the circumstances, but usually not lethal. Hypocrisy and the local form of doublespeak, likewise. Maybe the quasi-fascist mores of part of the society are more perilous, but there are those who are alert. The fierceness of the people I was lucky enough not to experience directly, after all I came here 50 years late for the times when people would kill their neighbours with stones and sticks. Then, there is the coarseness and peculiar conversation strategies, which we have managed to partly negotiate.
Still, it has been much harder to cope with the ugliness of the landscape and some instances of rampant parochialism. Of course, these and much more can often be overcome with a little help from sound social life. However, you also know about the social tedium and the general feeling of loneliness we are going through here, too.