DY 49-37

Right. The Mongolia Project. What does it consist of? A basketball court without boards or a rim. A volleyball net fret with so many holes it becomes difficult to discern the validity of a play on occasion (volleyball being the nation's #1 sport sans downing vodka). Miraculously, a computer room. With actual computers! But they're all virus infested. Some of the students chairs lack the proper screws thus every so often a "thump" will occur during lesson. Most kids don't have textbooks and high school is only 3 years. Looking on the bright side, things could be worse. I could be working inner-city Chicago, with kids that deal, pack and perform sexual favors for $5 a pop. They also throw pennies at you. Note: These are isolated incidents and not meant to paint a bleak picture of my hometown. The kids here are just the darn cutest things!


Let's see, who else has passed through these dusty plains...a South African and a Tennessee man. The coffee and wine are out. It's gonna be a long winter but time is passing quickly. My conscience is clean and I've lost everything I don't need. It's nice to boil life down to it's essence.

Black Riders

Though I enjoy cooking, I usually would rather let someone else do it so I can spend more time...say philosophizing. Thus, I'm a regular at the student dorms, which harbors excellent cooks, when someone doesn't invite me for food or in the rare instance I decide to fend for myself. One cold night I'm making my way to the food stop when two (likely drunk) men on a cheap Russian motorbike continuously circle me in the dark. Close enough for me to give 'em a shove and laugh as they tumble to the ground. But I choose the high road and keep walking. They continue to rally around the dorm as I dine. Some students worried about my welfare decide to escort me home even after I decline the invitation, insisting I can "boks". They negate. Then I remember I'm in the "Peace" Corps. If only certain people took the high road and realized that peace is the only means of progress.