Sunday, August 29, 2004

I've experienced few things as aggravating and strange as a bagpipes playing Yankee Doodle Dandy over and over again at 8:00 in the morning. Add to this that I am currently in an Arab country, and you have a whole new dimension of wierd.

For two months the source of the above noise salad, the American School, has been one of the primary banes of my existence. Only consistent in their inconsistency, workers at the school kept odd hours, sometimes working until late at night, other times working through the weekends, and sometimes random spurts of activity in the middle of the day, followed by maybe a day or two of respite. Under ground tunnels, scaffolding that makes no sense, and high high walls. And always when they decide to come around, there is some god awful noise, some nerve scratching movement, some inexplicable turn of events.

the part of my brain that sees conspiracies at every turn is now vying with that part that superstitiously reads signs and metaphors all around.