"Try this jam. It's really good. It was made by a guy who's been kidnapped."
"Did you hear the explosion during lunch?"
"There used to be a sauna next door, but it was hit by a rocket."
But still I maintain that the safest place is in the center of God's will, and while we certainly have to be alert and sensible, I feel no greater sense of fear here than in New Haven, or any place else. Life is to be lived. Today I rearranged my office, interviewed a midwife for an opening at the hospital, spent some time on the ward, worked on a lecture for the OB fellows, scrubbed myself clean in the sauna, ate a cream puff (available from a bakery on Pule Surkh!) for dessert. The former unit clerk from maternity ward told me my Dari is improving, and that I look thinner than last year. Tomorrow night we're having a girls' dinner at a French restaurant in town. I was able to tell my chowkidar--in Dari--that Tylenol is safe for his pregnant wife. It snowed today. Life is good.
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