Tuesday, March 06, 2012
The Next Destination
Last week, I signed a form saying that I wouldn't be requesting a new contract here in the ME after the summer.
I leave with some regret -- the desert has been the traditional place for fasting and purification, and that's pretty much what happened. I saved the amount I wanted to save and who can put a price on health, free time, and peace and quiet?
But life is calling.
I thought long and hard about what I wanted to do next.
Of course the girlfriend wants to get married; marriage is the only religion Russian provincial girls have.
The possibilities for destinations are limitless, if perhaps all equally pointless. I could debauch in Brazil, seek adventure in Africa, retrace my path to Russia or Thailand, or do practically anything else.
But getting outside my comfort zone has proved to be good for me, so I thought I should continue that.
I picked the most fucked-up destination I could think of, the one that I, really, want to visit the least.
It's a very dangerous country, in terms of homicide rate; its economy is a complete wreck. It's also been torn by civil unrest in recent years and its corrupt, bloated, oligarchical political system is in shambles. As if all that weren't enough, it's suffered from several devastating natural disasters recently.
On the bright side, it's pretty cheap to live there and it's universally recognized for producing some really beautiful international sex symbols.
Nonetheless, there are practically no sex tourists there, and the waves of dorky backpackers are pretty much absent.
You guessed it!
And I'm not going anywhere cool like Miami or Chicago either; I'm going to small-town bumfuk shitty bible-belt tornado-alley Dirty South. I'm going home baby!
The plan is to take the girlfriend on a student visa; and we'll see if we can live together under stress. There's a fairly large international student program there, so supposedly there are EFL jobs, also. (Of course there are a lot of Mexican immigrants, also.)
The last time I lived in America was summer of 1997 to about the fall of 1998. Damn near fifteen years!
There are a few more practical reasons to go back -- my father's health isn't great -- but basically I want to answer all these questions: does America really suck? Is the quality of life really better abroad? Is it really difficult to re-patriate? Are my employment opportunities really shitty? Do Russian girls automatically become mean strippers, when exposed to American culture?
It'll probably only be nine months to a year, but baby I'm coming home.