Much silence of late. I have no explanations to give.

I realised the other day that my time before moving to this city seems as though it was only a short time of transition and preparation for living here-- odd, since when I came to this country I had no thought of living anywhere but there, at least for quite some time. But life now, since moving just before Christmas, feels much more settled and normal and real. Even with the ongoing language learning limbo (though I did have another meeting with the school director this morning-- insha-allah, next week...) and my difficulties in meeting people here. For some reason I can more readily believe that I live here, that this is my home. Perhaps that's mostly a result of having lived in this country for nearly six months now. A natural adjustment to the total length of time, rather than a consequence of any differences between this residence and my former abode.

Things continue to feel very much the same out on the streets. Maybe sometimes people are a little more emphatically friendly, as if they're trying to make a particular point or overcome a suspected assumption by the force of their welcome. My watching of the news has rather noticably decreased. I'm still interested, I still know want to know what's happening, but the daily contrast between the ominous harbingers of war and the pleasant hospitality of the people here was causing undesirable schisms in my thought life.
Life makes slightly more sense this way.