It’s been a great week; an unusually long streak of good-times that has convinced me to write another post. Ordinarily, I have one up day, then one down day. Often, as our Desk Officer in DC warned us before we left, PCVs will experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, all in the same day.
But not this week.
This week really started on Friday night, as I was riding back from Pizza House (a local restaurant that sells… uh… something) with my friend Serik. As we approached my house we crossed an intersection where a large truck had smacked into the front of a small Zhugoli—the crappy, Soviet-era cars everyone drives.
“Wait,” I said as we sped passed, “I think that’s my host mom.”
Sure enough, when I jogged back to the crash my host mom and her sister (a grumpy, mean-spirited Russian nationalist from the Ukraine) were milling about, talking with their driver and the driver of the truck. No one was hurt, and the damage to the front of the Zhugoli was minimal. Apparently, it was the truck driver’s fault, and he was trying to convince them to take a cash payment before the cops arrived.
Serik and I stood there for a moment taking stock of things and chatting, when suddenly my host mother sprung an announcement on me: the apartment I had been waiting to inhabit—the one she owns—had been suddenly vacated by its occupants, and I could move in the next day.
So on Saturday I packed up most of my stuff, and, with the help of my friend Ermik, moved in to my new apartment near the center of town.
I love living on my own again, after 14 months—14 months!—of sharing a house at the edge of town. No more half-hour commutes. No more grandchildren screaming, running around, or playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (they are 5 and 6 years-old, and it shows). No more asking my host mother if I could have someone over for a visit. Hand washing my clothing and cooking my own food is a small price to pay for independence.
I came back on Sunday to collect the last of my stuff, and stood for a moment in my empty room contemplating my time there. I realized that I had lived in that chilly, cramped space longer than any room since I left my home in Cordova at 17.
But the new apartment wasn’t the only thing that went right. Early Monday morning I rushed to a computer and—jaw dropped in disbelief, terrified it was all some kind of beautiful dream from whence I would soon awake—saw that the New York Football Giants had defeated the New England Patriots 17-14.
Ecstatic does not begin to describe my feelings. Let me put this in perspective:
As a Raiders fan, I have an undying hatred for the Patriots, who robbed us of a chance to go to the Superbowl in 2000, a Superbowl that they won, launching their current “dynasty”.
Then, because of the Raider’s terrible ownership (die already Al Davis. Die or get committed to a home and stop ruining every football season for me), our best player, and my favorite player in the whole league, Randy Moss, fell into New England’s lap, leaving me with a difficult decision to make about my Oakland Moss jersey.
Anyway, as everyone with a passing knowledge of sports knows, the Patriots went on to have the best season in NFL history; they were a record-breaking juggernaut fueled by Brady and Moss. They seemed unstoppable; semi-legitimate debates were cropping up everywhere about whether or not they were the greatest sports team in history. Not just the greatest football team. The Greatest Team… Ever.
And now it all lies in ashes. Their perfect season has become the greatest collapse by any football team… ever. They got beat by two Manning brothers in back-to-back-years. They were held to 14 points in the Superbowl. And Plaxico Buress called it! He called it, and then he caught the final touchdown!
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAA!!!!
18-1! 18-1! 18-1!
EEEEEEIIIIGGGHTEEEENNN AND OOOOOOOOOOONNNEEE!!!! AH-HA! AH-HA! AH-HAAAAA!!! Ah-ha. Ah-ha. *Whew*
So… I never liked the Giants (I used to intensely dislike them, actually), but I think I am going to buy an Eli Manning jersey and an Oakland hat when I go back to the US and wear them in tandem everywhere I go. If they haven’t been made already, I am going to custom print a bunch of T-shirts with a giant 18-1 on the front and give them to my friends.
I hate the Patriots more than any team in any sport. And if that last passage wasn’t dripping with schadenfreude, then I am not the writer I thought I was.
Ok. Moving on (“Proyexali”, in loosely-translated Russian).
After my Superbowl orgy of joy, I turned my eyes toward my second passion—after football— politics. I was worried that Obama was going to get his clock cleaned on Super Tuesday, and Clinton would go a long way towards wrapping up the nomination.
Instead, Obama seems to have fought her roughly to a draw. Considering the contests coming up—Lousianna, Nebraska, Washington, the Virgin Islands, the “Potomac Primary” of Maryland, DC, Virginia, followed by Main, then Wisconsin and Hawaii—it looks like Obama might be able to put together two weeks of solid victories. That leaves Ohio and Texas for Clinton to make her stand. And just the idea of the presumed-nominee/overwhelming frontrunner from two months ago having to make a “stand” is wonderful.
Also, here’s my dad Roger on the Alaskan Caucus, also a Super Tuesday state:
No worries, Alaska kicked ass with 3 to 1 for Obama. Not sure how that compares to other states but I would guess it’s really good. There were so many people at the 40 below zero caucus they could not get in, and cops were threatening to tow cars. Being a high internet usage state, the Obama campaign has been goin on for a long time. There are probably a few that just are anti-Clinton also. Take care.
Yep, things are going well. This Saturday we’re going to have a birthday party for Tim, who is coming in from Yavlinka, which is doubling as a kind of house warming/christening for my new apartment.
So, that’s been my week (and what I am looking forward to). Sorry it doesn’t have much if anything to do with Kazakhstan or Central Asia. But sometimes what is happening back in the US weighs heavier on a PCV’s mind that the day-to-day drudgery of Peace Corps work. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And the New York Football Giants have just about made my year… only one thing could make it better— President-elect Barrack Hussein Obama.
Дo встречи!
PS Why did I include his middle name? Because $%&# those e-mails being sent around the Jewish community (and elsewhere) claiming he’s a closet Muslim, that’s why. His middle name could be Hitler, for all I care. His heart, his head, and his policy positions are in the right place.
Just mailed in my Ohio absentee ballot. Sorry, I was on the fence, but just not convinced yet. If only I hadn't had to work when he came to AU and had seen him in person....
Posted by: Conan | 02/19/2008 at 05:53 PM