of course

Of course there's more. They're desperate for teachers down there. They're desperate for teachers in the inner city schools, in the posh private schools, everywhere. Here I am, twiddling my thumbs in a city I love and a system I hate. Sunrise over the mountains is still breathtaking, but a little less fulfilling when it signifies that one has once again not been called in to work that day. Sunrise over the mountains these days means wondering whether I'll ever be able to pay for my rent, let alone my debts.

I lasted a year in a country where they burned their garbage, in a town where the streets were spotless and the river was speckled with plastic bags and laundry containers, but where, if I held my hands up to make a little square, I could catch a private view of the birds settling in the trees above the muck, or the fisherman in his hip waders casting his net in tiny black arc over the water. My washing machine made my clothes dirty, my apartment had no heat, and I made spagetti with only a single burner and a rice cooker.

I love teaching. I'm not teaching here.

What an adventure!

And the mountains will always be here for me to come back to.