Oh Toto, we aren't in Korea any more

Medan is a largish city on the island of Sumatra, Indonesia. I am on that island, in that city. Right now the call to prayer calls. I do not necessarily respond, although it is stirring. Today we visited a mosque and I tried to remember the five pillars of Islam. I think they are:

1) Allah is the one true God
2) Mohammad was his Prophet
3) Pray five times a day
4) Something about charity?
5) ???

Today we also went to a Sultan's palace. The Sultan is the last sultan of Delhi, which I thought/think is in India and I'm not about to ruin that kind of potential ignorance with a google search. He's got a palace here in Medan but it's pretty crumby. (I hope The Sultan isn't reading this, I went back and capitalized all previous uses of the word 'Sultan' just in case to soften the blow.) - HA I JUST KILLED A MOSQUITO DIE YOU MOTHER - So the palace doesn't have any gems or moats or anything. The shiniest thing was The Sultan's ruby violin under a glass case. In the same glass case there was also The Sultan's drum and  The Sultan's accordion. We walked on The Sultan's porch and admired The Sultan's wolf head bathmat that was drying on The Sultan's drying rack. There was another room in the back but we weren't allowed to go in because we aren't Muslim or Moslem which is what got me thinking about the five pillars. There's always a temptation to insta-convert just to flip some lids/prove a point/ generate a decent facebook status update.

On The Sultan's grass I kicked a soccer ball around for about twenty minutes with three boys, ages ranging from six to twelve, roughly. They referred to me as 'Mister' and I showed them how to do a waterfall. (The waterfall is such an easy trick that I can't find a youtube video of it. The ball starts behind me then goes up over my head, imagine it.)

At the Grand Mosque afterwards a man came and greeted us outside. He wanted to be our paid guide and he went about applying for this position by following us around and telling us random things and not talking about the money he wanted. Eli told him we weren't looking for a guide, (Eli also sent me this video of a slow loris just now. Maybe you've seen a slow loris with an umbrella but I hadn't) The man got kind of upset. He said that everyone needs guides for the jungle but no one thinks they need guides for buildings. He said it was discrimination. On the one hand he does not ask to be our guide, he just assumes the position and hopes that we feel awkward to the point of paying him - on the other hand he's probably looking for a dollar or two - on the other hand there are a lot of people who would like to hire themselves to you and receive a dollar or two - on the you get the picture. These things always make me feel like an asshole.

I'm going to admit now that the only thing that rousted me from blog-torpor is my friend Eric/ka who changed her name on facebook to

Exuberant J. Bodhisattva

and now I have to be embarrassed that I can't remember if she spells it with a 'c' or a 'k'. She gave me some kind of shout out, a liebster - I don't know what it is - but I worried that I wouldn't live up to it none the less.

Eric/ka's blog is this one.

She likes yoga and her private parts and keeping her spine undamaged. She wrote a self help book called I Let Go. It's an ebook

I haven't read this book yet. My visa is hidden in a bag of condoms in my hiking backpack so that if I am thieved of my day-bag I will have money for consolatory beers, so I can't order it off amazon right now. I will though and even though most of you won't/don't have kindles you damn well should because I don't know anyone who is putting more effort into figuring out how to live intentionally. Also she's a little bit nuts, so there's bound to be some insight into one side of the human condition or the other.

Tomorrow we fly to Kuala Lumpur. This post cost me four mosquito bites. I'm going for a vanilla shake.

Korea

I want very badly to do this well. I want to be graceful, I want to say just the right thing. I want to stop stuttering.

I have 30 minutes left with my computer. I'm afraid I can only give you 2 right now.

I have left before. The steps are simple.

1. You say goodbye

2. You leave

Like this.

Limbo

Two weeks ago a piece of my tooth disappeared. Probing it with my tongue in the evening I assumed that a filling had fallen out. In fact, my tooth had collapsed. The dentist explained that it had rotted away from the inside until one end caved in. I would require a root canal.

My second root canal in five months.

I have big gaps between my molars that I floss out every night. I pull out hunks of food larger than what you're imagining right now. The point though is that I am on top of this. I have identified the danger and am taking steps to correct. My teeth should not be disintegrating because that is a nightmare I have twice a year. That level of subconscious worry should really keep me safe. But

It is deskwarming season at public school. After vacation ended a week and a half ago, I had sixteen days of occupying space in Bummul Middle School. Then I leave the country, unlikely to return soon. The operative word when considering the benefit the school gains from my attendance is 'nothing'. However, you must remember that I am lucky.

The root canal and the four dentist appointments required to drill out my dental pulp and post and bracket and and and were the ammunition my co-teacher needed. She swam the proper channels, asked the gentlest of questions with the most polite case endings and over three days a question wormed its way through the administration and back out again. Could I not come to school? Yes. There was a meeting to attend on the 20th and my Principal and his Viceroy would like me to say goodbye before I leave, but I am free.

*          *          *

Today is the 20th. Diligent, I arrived. The office was dark, a new wall split the last third of the old office away. My desk is gone. On my last day of school, I have nowhere to sit. I get in contact with my talented handler. The meeting has been moved to tomorrow, but before I can walk out the Viceroy appears and bids me "come on". 

I am sitting at someone else's desk now as our office slowly fills up. After fourty minutes the office assistant found this person's password. By luck, it appears the person who's space I am filling is not coming in today. Perhaps, like a magic painting I was lured to touch, I have switched positions with this person and they're boarding the plane to the Philippines on Sunday. 

*          *          *

When Mrs. Park forged the deal for me she told me, "I think you don't have to come in any more." "The Vice Principal was vague, you will be alright to not come in I think." My status as a free agent was conditional on the fact that we did not ever have to say it was a fact. Only a possibility, a licence that will evaporate the minute the black helicopters of the Ministry of Education circle and zap strap us in a mid-morning raid. Not only will my licence be revoke but it will never have existed. The Vice Principal will never have given me leave for anything. 

This morning, I don't know if the spell is broken. If I walk out the door will it look as though I am walking out on the Viceroy? Will she stop me, or simply be offended that I didn't come on longer at my desk? She could even be silently urging me to leave, but unable to say "go on" with everyone here. Such direct words could be used against her.

*          *          *

6 more days in Korea.