.

i am leaving eritrea for a week to visit karachi, pakistan, long-lost city of my birth. city of 12 million. city of pollution traffic dirt and too much inequality to fit into the whole world. city to where i've long planned for a grand return that never comes. and it certainly won't this time around. for my visit will be sad, as i'm not visiting karachi but visiting a loved one near the end of her life. it's a cruel irony of life, a cruel irony of my life, that i spend it far away from people while they are living, only to visit them when they are dying.

i have a week, not enough time. but it never is. 1 week, 10 days, 38 years, half a life, half a person, like the numbers of death, random and always wanting. a macabre lottery.

it's been a week of pickpockets in the rarest of countries. a week of mistaken identities. a week of navigating the red tape. a week of extreme frustration and anger. a week of holding it together while feeling it come apart. a week of hope, excitement, sadness, action and inaction. in that order. with the last 2 endlessly alternating and opposing. a sarcastic play on my life.

travelling. on the bus from barentu to asmara. climbing the mountains, i look out the window to see, much to my surprise, a series of white, puffy clouds. at eye-level. i study them for a few moments, to make sure my eyes aren't fooling me. are they mountains? no, they are white puffy clouds. i never realized we were so close to heaven.

.

love has gone away
and there's nothing left to say
but oh how, i need him, baby
i need you baby, i need your loving so bad
please don't slip away.

**

sunday night. phone call. my aunt is dying.

monday morning. phone calls. inquiries. what's the fastest way out?

monday noon. agordat education office. precaution--give me a letter.

monday afternoon. phone call, answer--there's no fast way out. precaution pays off.

tuesday morning. get on a bus. going to barentu.

in barentu. education office. i need a letter.

waiting for my letter. i realize something. there's a loophole in my passport. i can leave. but not for long.

tuesday noon. on a bus. going to asmara.

tuesday evening. running to travel agent. he's not there, i'm late, he could've waited, five minutes. miss the night flight. have to wait two days.

tuesday night. still asmara. on a city bus. my pocket is picked.

could've been worse. not much money. but IDs gone IDs gone i need my IDs. oh thief would that you be kind and leave me my IDs?

not so kind. i have problems. wednesday all day, i try to fix them. running to and from ministries, a nightmare of red tape, waiting in offices, writing letters, waiting for letters, biting my nails, biding my time, i need to get out of here, don't have much time.

thursday the present, the same as yesterday. only i've paid for my flight, and tonight i will fly.

i see how lucky i am even in bad luck. try to go ahead with my letters, to get a new visa and more time away. exit visa--not possible without residence permit. residence permit gone with my picked wallet. no exit visa till new residence permit, till god knows when. am confounded by my good/bad luck--in my passport, i have a multiple journey visa valid till dec. 12. my saving grace. i have a week in karachi. to say goodbye.