Manpower

I admit that this blog has been a bit of a lady parade. Blame it on my Relief Society calling or my gender, but I've been fascinated by the women I've met.



To be fair, here's to the men.



First there was Valijon, my fearless visa expeditor, who it sounds like will soon become my fearless visa renewalist. The consular guy at the airport who only gave me a visa through July, even though all information said I'd be here until August 2, has purposely been excluded from this list.



Dee, fighter of corruption and crime, has gone above and beyond to make things more convenient for me. He lent me contact solution, arranged for someone to lend me clothes (his most brave act of all), helped me move, made sure I was using my peephole, showed me good supermarkets, suggested restaurants, pointed out that stairs here aren't always even in width, and pushed me out of the way of dripping water. And to boot, he bakes his own bread (perfect for bruschetta) and makes his own spaghetti sauce. Most importantly, he lends his kitchen out for Italian food night.



Jay, who I only met briefly, was a New York City cop for years and worked Ground Zero after September 11. After that, he said he needed a break. He spent eight years in Kosovo training police officers, and now he's here working in community policing.



Maksim, who appeared early and briefly in this blog, has been the most striking of the men I've met. He essentially educated himself in information technology and has lived independently of his family since he was eighteen because he could. Unheard of in these parts, as far as I can tell. His singularity reminds me of a former student, Hiroshi, whose warmth, humor, and openness were admirable by any standard, but stood out in high relief especially because these qualities didn't seem to have been dictated to him by the norms of his culture. Maksim's choices and actions too have been his own, coming from some inner desire for improvement and excellence. He has also found himself in tenuous situations that only personal (and some physical) strength, along with a sense of right could allow him to overcome. I think of him as an old man with a young face. I want to say, "May the brain drain not wash him away to some other place." But with my American eyes, it's hard not to wish him more.