Mark Konta Estoria V

From East Timor

Whats up everyone.

Well, last week I graduated from my United States Peace Corps training, and its official now - I'm a hippy. I can feel my self starting to turn, and its pretty frikin scary. I've even been keeping a journal, and right now I'm reading a book about the "power of Zen." Who knows what the hell I'm going to turn out like in 2 years. I'll probably end up being one of those dumbasses that tries to live in a tree in Grant Park or something when I get back to Chicago.

So anyway, tomorrow I go out to live in a town completely alone for the first time, and I'm scared shitless. Part of this is because I really have now idea what the hell I'm supposed to be doing, and partly because I've just found out that the place I'm going to is the armpit of East Timor. I guess all of the old volunteers agreed that this place was definitely NOT a cool spot to be. So what do you know....Hayes comes up a winner again.

As of now there's only one good thing about this place that I know of. I get to work and live with a guy named BAZILDO. Do you know how much fun you can have with a name like that? Some of my friends here have already starting singing songs about this dude. I've already been out to visit this place to hang out with Bazildo for a couple of days to see what it was like. I'm going to be pretty much alone in an office with just Bazildo - and I'm pretty sure that his official job title is "professional smoker", - because that's all this chubby little bastard do es for 8 hours. He comes in, goes in his office, lights one up after another, and starts pecking away at his 1950's style typewriter. I'm not exactly sure what the hell he's writing, but I think it might go something like this:

"........My name is BAZZZILLLLLLDOOOO..........Bazildo is sitting..........Bazildo is smoking.......Bazildo is typing..........Bazildo..Bazildo...Bazildo."

Well, at least that's what I would be doing if my name was Bazildo - and its not like there's that much else to do to keep you busy. I was thinking about this the other day when I was staring at the walls. One of the big reasons that I came here was because I was somewhat bored with how my life was going in Orland Park. So what do I do to solve this problem? I jump on the Peace train and come to a place where there is absolutely nothing to do - what in the hee- haw- hell kind of logic is that? Today I saw a kid running around in circles, maybe I'll try that tomorrow to keep myself busy while Bazildo is smoking. One more thing about Bazildo - they only eat fish and rice at his house, and he said th at I can't eat the oily fish because "If you eat it..... you will die.".....that sounds comforting.

Like most 3rd world hole in the ground countries, this one has a pretty shitty transportation system. We're mostly confined to use these small little busses called mikrolets, (about the size of a Volkswagon bus). It's not unusual to share these things with chickens, fish, pigs, pig shit, and smelly toothless Timorese that like to pet foreigners. You jump in not really knowing if you got in a bus that has brakes or has a driver that isn't drunk out of his gored. So in actuallity, you pretty much give up on life every time you climb abord, and you just have to accept the fact that you're going to die.

Anyway, on the final drive in from my host site, me and the other tree huggers tried to rent out a bus for ourselves so we could have some extra space to put our shit. Well, we bought it, but before we know what was happening, half the town had jumped on for the ride to wish us goodbye. The final count was 27 people in one piece of shit mikrolet - thats got to be some sort of record. By the end of the ride I had a little kids sweaty ass print on my crotch. It was because he was sitting on my lap in a 400-degree van - but that's a hard one to explain when you're walking down the street.

OK, I've got to get going. I hope that everyone is doing well at home - I think of you guys about every other second. There are no new standings as far as the letter competition, but I'll let you know as soon as I get some more. And as far as sending things goes, there's no need to go overboard - because I know things can be expensive to send out here. So anything that can fit into an envelope is more than enough. See ya dudes and dudettes, it should be at least a month before I have a chance to do this again, so have fun and let me know about all the good shit that's happening at home.

Peace in the Far East, Mizzo Wizzo Hizzo

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