Mouth Ulcer Painful

It's been a bit of while since my last post, and the whole while I've been making mental notes of all the things I want to jot down.

Last week the weather changed as our encyclopedic stock management teacher pointed out to us. Winds have begun to blow from the south carrying along with them dust and humidity. The teacher pointed out that as soon as that wind comes into contact with meat, the meat rots. This is the same character that tells us that bottled water isn't as clean as we'd like to believe making reference to the high Total Dissolved Solids mark on the bottle is triple that what it should be. He also says that he doesn't use local tap water to brush his teeth, but has now installed a super duper water filtering system at home. And so, he said he was in a bad mood because the southern winds were blowing. The weather isn't so comfortable no more that's true, but I'm glad that the skies still have clouds.

Ever since the Sarrafiya and Jadriya bridge bombings getting to and from college has become a nightmare. I don't make use of the Sarrafiya bridge and the next closest alternative is the Adhamiya bridge which I don't use. Not until today that is. Sarrafiya bridge has collapsed but the Jadriya bridge is fine. Last week Monday, I was driving home at around five in the evening and decided to take the Jadriya bridge. I ended up getting caught in a two hour traffic jam that had no end in sight all because the government had the bright idea of placing a checkpoint splat in the middle of the Jadriya bridge and to let one car pass at a time so as to avoid any further bridge carnage on what was a free-flowing bridge that used to take five minutes to cross.

Not only is it a ridiculous hassle to place a checkpoint in the middle of a three lane bridge and only let one car slowly pass through one at a time and create a bottle-neck of traffic that takes two hours to get through. And the cars can't handle the heat and the jam, the last time I was on the Jadriya bridge four or five breakdown and it's not even summer yet when every car is on the verge of overheating. But the royal stroke of stupidity goes to actually putting the checkpoint in the middle of the bridge as opposed to just before it is sheer stupid. If some dude's going to let the blast off, he's obviously going to do it at the checkpoint and if the blast's strong enough that's bye-bye bridge number two along with all the people caught in the jam. And in effect, the government has done the terrorists' bidding and has rendered a bridge useless.

So with the two bridges less, and the consequent increased traffic, security forces feel nothing and continue to unexpectedly block other bridges like the two that are by the green zone or even the roads to drive in and out of my neighbourhood. I've made some changes in my lifestyle, I've ditched the car for good. I'm better off taking a cab and in the case that a road is blocked I could just get out and walk on past which is good exercise that I need. The other change I've made is I now carry my stuff in my backpack instead of in my hands which is what all the other kids at college do. It's a hell of a lot easier to walk with my hands free. The only resulting hassle is that since I'm the only guy walking the streets with a backpack, I occasionally get told by a soldier or a cop to open my backpack from a distance to assure him I'm not going to spontaneously explode.

Our house got searched twice last week-end. The first time I was asleep and didn't have to wake up, a couple days another bunch came and this I was awake. Nahida said that Iraqi army and the Americans were in the street at first and then she said it was just the Iraqis. I was asking, because if the Americans were coming along with the Iraqis I felt it would've been better if I took off my t-shirt which read "I don't have a drinking problem, I drink, I get drunk, I pass out... No Problem!".

So three Iraqi soldiers came into the house, as soon as they stepped in they said that they knew we were from Diwaniya which is true in my case but not Nahida's. Nahida replied by saying our grandfather's grandfather's were from Diwaniya. We felt it was a bit odd that they had that kind of info on the house and volunteered it. The leader took off his helmet and sat his ass down and Nahida began to ask him why we were being searched a second time. The leader said that his bunch were the only ones allowed to do searches in the neighbourhood and that we weren't supposed to be searched by the first bunch. One soldier took Nahida's brother upstairs to guide him through and the other asked me to show him the downstairs bedrooms.

The soldier asked me to open the closet doors of my bedroom, the first one of which had my books neatly arranged. I took a little gasp when I noticed that the corner of my British passport was sticking out. The soldier just took a glance and asked me to open the other closet doors and began to explain to me that they can tell the bad guys just from their faces and that it was obvious to him that we didn't have such faces. I tried saying that it was good that they're able to do that now, suggesting they've acquired the experience. Only three things caught his attention: my guitar, a Gerber knife and an army belt the latter two I had got from Bab-Al Shargi, but he didn't ask.

Nahida was still chit-chatting with the leader and offering pomegranate juice to him and the other two, she had brought out a box of little cartons of orange juice and told me to offer to the guys outside. So I picked it up with both hands and walked out to find an Iraqi soldier and three Americans. I offered the juice by holding out the box, the American who seemed to be the leader because he was acting the most serious declined and said thank you in Arabic. The other two also declined and one said that he liked my t-shirt, I just made a dumb smile and walked back in without having said a word.

Sure enough it would be fun to chat to someone in English for a change, but it's not worth appearing chummy with the American in front of the neighbours or the Iraqi army guys either.

A couple of days ago, the head of my department called for me. He's heard that I'm losing hope on passing, so he listened to all my problems and all that. The one teacher that I have this year that teaches me a mathematical subject (Operational Research) and therefore no trouble with repeated that I had told him that I felt conned since when I first joined I was given the impression that there were a lot of subjects that would be taught in English and indeed this year there are two subjects (that I'm failing) that are supposed to be in English but this year are taught in Arabic and so this year I don't have a single class in English.

The head of department wondered how did I manage to pass the previous two years despite my language problem and I explained to him how this year situational circumstances that didn't exist last year or had exacerbated this year have made it so much harder for me. For example, I was able to stay at a friend's house and with study at his till later than I can now. He told me not to give up and that he'll try to get the teachers to give me some freebie marks to get me by, and that I should maybe consider focusing on some subjects and leaving a couple so that I re-test them during the summer.

During the past few days I've tried to pick up the pace and I've spoken with the teachers that I'm having trouble with. I've even written a five hundred word report in Arabic which I had simply translated material from one of my old college textbooks from Lebanon and then had corrected by my Arabic tutor.

On one hand I know I could've studied much more than I have, but on the other I can't be blamed for under performing with so many things stacked against me. It's just such a waste. I've never got this far in college before (this is my third college).

I had a couple of weird war dreams yesterday. Throughout my life I remember having the weirdest war dreams. Like a detonation of a nuclear missile in the sky followed by sensation of scorching heat on my skin, or masturbating on a couch in a hall dug into the side of a mountain with a large glass wall with a view of my army fighting below in the valley. The couple of dreams I had this time involved a Caucasian who I'd be talking nothing intelligible to and then he'd split and get into a car on the road. In the first dream he catches a car with a bunch of dodgy guys with a camcorder and in the second dream he gets into a car with another bunch of dodgy guys this time however they're carrying rifles and he points a gun at them and tells them to drive on.

It turns out my guitar tutor's on vacation in Erbil, Kurdistan. So I was kind of stuck with nothing to work on. But then Konfused Kid who is abroad taught me how to do the intro "The Man Who Sold The World" song, I've still got trouble with the rest of the song. Switching from chord to chord on that song is hard especially since one of them is a F bar chord and I've got no clue how to strum. Konfused Kid suggested down, down/up, down/up, down/up; but that's not working out, he says that the strumming is supposed to just flow out naturally. My guitar tutor better come back. Worst case scenario, I go there during the summer and see him, he better have a guitar on hand there.

Oh and out of the blue I've got the most incredibly painful mouth ulcer. Something I had forgotten existed. And it really hurts when I eat or brush my teeth.