First, I'd like to primitively apologize for the spelling/grammar of this blog entry and all those following. Normally all blog entries undergo a strict process of refinement. I write them out during the wee hours of the night after a hard day of giving a damn about languages and cultures beyond my understanding, then I review them a few times, and finally I upload them to the internet whenever I've the opportunity. A few occasionally slip through under the pressure of booze and the good humor associated with it. I suppose this might be of that variety.
My laptop is dead. A part of me died with it and I very well may just have to turn tail and go home.
I feel incredibly guilty with how hard I am taking this. When I signed up for the Corps there was always the chance I would be posted a million miles from any access to the outside world. There are a number of volunteers in Cameroon without cell phone access, power, or any other luxuries of the western world. I'm not one of them. I can see a cell tower standing in my well-lite back yard in the middle of the night. I lack running water, but I've a manservant I send to bring it to me in a cart. If he's not around a child will do it for the low, low price of 40 cents (actual price, paid in full yesterday). So other volunteers, close your eyes and ears.
That laptop was my window to the outside world. It was my escape and my comfort. It was how I was connected to you, my dear readers. I could prepare blog posts and, when I had a working internet card, occasionally post entries. I got emails from friends and family that reminded me that while I may be lost here, I have a hold world elsewhere. When I was exhausted and frustrated, I could turn to watch a few movies or TV shows that were legally obtained in whatever manner you might legally obtain such things. My rule was Cameroonians out of the house by 8, bit of time with the journal, then laptop time till 10. Now I'll have to study language or some other drivel.
Lord knows what I'll do now. Shit, I remember erasing old AOL internet floppy disks and filling them with images of scantily clad ladies downloaded with a 56k modem for times like these (maybe even a 23k at one point). Now I'm left with nothing. The hell am I going to do without pornography? I can't recall a world without it.