terms of service

it seems that today was the designated Heat Activation one, despite the fact that it marked the first time in more than a week that i've run with just a short sleeved shirt (granted, i went later than 6.15 this morning). you can be sure that no one inquired at each of the 112 flats about the suitability of such an event on such a day. something in me (probably the 1/2+ (emphasis on the +) of the genetic material i received from my father)) writhes at the absolute wrongness of heat in october. were it -2309756˚C and our mutterances dropping frozen before they could leave our mouths, i would somehow make this claim just as vocally.

finally made it to the market in Zemun this morning, on the way back from running. it was busy, because Saturday, but the stuff there seems better (less erstwhile sat-upon and less expensive) than that in any of the ones in town. although it's big, the market is well laid out: veg (roughly speaking) on one side, fruit on another—with electricians and clothiers trying their best to look like they, too, sell living items. i paid too much for carrots (but at least i didn't use the *Croatian* word when asking for them); made it up in some really comely grapes.

although i'd been putting it off valiantly, finally started working on the first of several progress reports. rank your work here on a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 being "i am setting a shining example for the entire region and, especially, its children" and 1, "short people got no reason/short people got no reason to...live.").

have been thinking about volunteering—as a concept and as a reality, both of which have become rather immediate these days. i must tell you that i did not come here with any grand illusions, the sort of which were supposed to be instilled during the orientation in Akron (and, i think, largely succeeded among the population there). instead, i have a (nonetheless, very firm) belief that it is necessary to do something rather than just talk (which, in my case, often turns into criticism and other forms of lambastation). given the state of our world, the needs that exist on fundamental and communicative levels, people have to try to offer themselves where they can provide service. this is not an option—but because it is the only one does not mean that it happens without a hitch or that it, at times and maybe even often, is only slightly better than the alternatives (one of which is doing nothing).

conceptual/ideological problematics aside, the practicalities of life as a volunteer pose other challenges. first of all, i'm just going to shamelessly switch to the first person here. on one hand, i am invaluable to MCC and at NB. that is to say, i embody free labour and good PR for the kindergarten, doing the grunt work for MCC as an organisation. on the other (far more obvious, in my mind), i am completely superfluous here. nothing i do here, especially at NB, is unique to myself. in fact, i do things worse than many other examples of warm flesh inserted in the "place relatively sentient human here" slot. it is, i suppose, the BA in the humanities dilemma all over again: because i can do nothing (specific), i am able to do everything. what is worth doing, however, must be done by and with care taken for the details.

that i am able to volunteer presents the third challenge to the entire situation. without even personalities being considered, there exists an imbalanced interpersonal scheme: though i have nothing to give i am cast (by association, my position, by nationality) as designated giver. though the people with whom i work, NB as an organisation, have much to offer, when it comes to me, they are recipient. add a checkered international relations history to the mix, and everything becomes even more convoluted (even as it is swept up into neat categories, sides—and other myths).

in the end, i wonder: am i here to do penance for the actions of an entire country? because, if so, i am not your man. were this an exercise in assuaging my own guilt, perhaps i would have more of a chance. as it is, though, what is needed—but what *never* comes about through flimsy (in thought and enaction) well-wishing sentiments, never through petty retributive acts—is justice.