18 Sept 2011.

South Sudan is a place where, I’m ashamed to admit, I pop my collar and peg my pants. I never do this in the States! I justify to other TAs – It’s just because of the sun! The mud! Thank goodness there’s no one around the villages to snicker at me for looking like a MA candidate in comparative literature, c. 1986.

This morning the sky is so dark the sun didn’t wake us at 6:15. Even the roosters didn’t kick in until 6:20 or so. Surprisingly, I’m starting to develop the habit of waking up before my alarm goes off, though that may be an artifact of going to sleep at 9:30 every night. My parents have both always had the ability to get up early – my dad will actually set himself like a clock, and get up at 4:45 for a road trip. Freakish, I’ve always thought. Maybe it’s a skill that develops with age, or urgency of purpose. Must get out to the field. Must not be that lazy TA who gets up at 7.

I’m flagging in my resolve to train new guys. Teaching is hard, when the people you’re working with don’t especially speak your language, and went to high schools where the standards aren’t particularly high. My supervisor ~criticizes me for repeating myself. Make them listen to you the first time, he says.

The thing is, he ain’t wrong. I *do* repeat myself, talk in anecdotes, I try to speak simply, but need to simplify even further. Clear and concise, the assistant director wrote to me. Clear and concise.

But isn’t my unclarity and blatherness what people like so much about me? Last night I had the luxury of a skype chat (words only – video is the straw that breaks the tenuous internet’s back, even on an international NGO’s compound). Dear friend in Kathmandu, who had just posted news of the 6.8 earthquake that hit KTM after Sikkim. La. As we wrote, our shared doubts about where on earth we’re headed came up. People all around the world love and support you, he said. This echo runs through me every day, sometimes painfully – so many people I feel like I’m letting down by (yet again) failing to be a rockstar. They love you because you fully appreciate the moment, he said. It buoyed me, his kind words, but I was left with the taste of vague dissatisfaction under my tongue: is that skill of mine helping me, helping the people I’m supposed to be helping, here?