And the "Beat" goes on...
One of my assailants; I fared considerably better than the tapir.
Well, I was not going to post this event but since I have recieved some encouraging and comforting emails from friends and family, I figured, "Hey! This is a good story" and that's what life is all about...now, let's set the scene.
It is a beautiful fall evening. I had just returned from Poti and got off the bus about 200 meters from my house. Even though it was only 7:30 PM it was already pretty dark. There were your usual friday night characters at the bus stop and as I have walked this route many times, I paid them no mind. Two very drunk youngsters decieded, with all the clarity that an afternoon of drinking vodka provides, that the tall foriegner would be an easy mark. (I now can almost see the thought process "I'm drunk" "me too" "let's do something" "yeah, let's roll that dude" etc.)
So, noisily they staggered upon me. The short one tried to grab my back pack and when I gripped it and turned away he fell down. I pushed the other one and began to run towards my house. Now my softball buddies and some of my former students can attest to my running ability...in a phrase no one will EVER confuse me with Steve Prefontaine! I was caught up to, spun around, and then the oddest thing happened. He hit me, with a rock. "A FUCKING rock!?", I thought. He hit again, and again, and yes, again; becoming more frustrated that this big guy wouldn't go down. During this period, the same thought kept running through my mind, not "run" or "hit him" but just this one thought over and over-- "A FUCKING ROCK??!" I get no respect. Here we are, 21st Century, and I'm not getting held up with a slick glock 9mm, or threatened with a stilleto switchblade, or even some sweet nun-chuks. No, gentle readers, I am only worthy of being bludgeoned with the world's 2nd oldest weapon.
After about the fifth hit, my amygdala decieded to finally get off its ass and get busy. I pushed the guy down and resumed my Bernie Kosar, wounded-giraffe-like running and made it to the safety of my street. Rock boy gave up the chase. Let's pause and think about what teachable moments are here: 1) poor weapon choice--the rock lacked sufficent mass to have the desired effect. 2) poor positioning of the assailant--he was shorter than me meaning he could not bring much force to bear on the target. 3) The target itself..anyone will tell you a Finn's skull is about an 8 or 9 on the Mohs hardness scale. 4) Poor tactics-- attacking a larger, sober target with little or no planning 5) Me being a good Buddhist (not inflicting harm on this poor drunk son of a bitch. 6) Me being a bad Buddhist (not being mindful of my surroundings)
Upon arriving home, I told my family what had happened and the street exploded in activity. My wounds were attended to, and my brother Giga was more angry than I had ever seen him. My "patronis", or protectors have their ears to the ground and if one of these morons ever lets slip that he tried to rob an American, justice will be swift. Peace Corps was called and their response was and continues to be outstanding. The level of community and care that I have experienced should be the envy of America. This has truly been a learning experience on many levels. I have just returned from having my brain scanned and the results indicate that I do indeed have a brain and it is functioning as normally as possible, for me anyway. The final damage report is as follows: 4 lacerations to the head (the "largest" being 2.1 cm. Some blood. A hell of a headache that I still have, and a renewed sense of vigilance for travel in the future. For travel and see and do I MUST!
All the best,
John
posted by john at 10:34 PM
4 Comments:
Man, you're having a bit of a rough time aren't you? It's good that all your peeps helped take care of you though.
Thats so scary! I'm really glad you are alright!
Sounds like you could use some carebear cheer though... =P
Jebus, you've gone through more pain in a span of a couple of weeks in Georgia than you go through in an entire year at PCCS. Maybe you should, I don't know... COME BACK! Part of the school died when you left! A third of the seniors left or stayed back a year! Who's going to hit Worm? Or flip us off? Mein Gott, if this had happened in portland, you would have probably had a possy of students at your beck n' call! (Hell, Hanna Chavez alone could have probably decked both of them!).
That aside, you probably feel like crap. So I might as well tell you about something funny that happened over the senior trip (by the way, this is your ol' student Scott Douglas).
Okay I'll set the scene for you.
All of the senior are staying in the Mountain Veiw cabbin (or lodge). It's night time. There's little to no light outside. Ariella, Worm, and a couple other senior girls are doing yoga in the main "communal" area of the cabin. All is peacful. But as Ariella bends backwards, she sees someone with their hands plasterd to window directly behind her, their face is obscured by the fog created by their breath. And as soon as Ariella lays eyes on this person, she proceeds to screech, and falls down on the floor. But fear soon passes when she realizes that it was no crazy (well, not entierly) person she had just glimpsed, no, it was just me, Scott Douglas, havin' some fun at her expense.
Oh, and if that wasn't funny enough for you, I've got a video that you've got to see of one of my favorite comedians: Jeff Dunham. This might bring back some memories of History of the Middle East. Just copy and paste this in your address bar (I hope you can watch Youtube).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uwOL4rB-go
ouch man, I'm almost surprised that the rock didn't shatter when it encountered your skull
Post a Comment
<< Home