Yeah, I know it's been two weeks/Breaking up fights

Ok, so maybe I'll never finish with my story about language acquisition and related stuff. Whatever. I've been busy. Really busy. In fact, I've never been this busy in my whole life, I think. I've been working and studying and spending time with my girlfriend, and all the little things I used to do have been thrown out the door: playing video games, working out, studying Korean, hanging out with friends (I actually don't really have any here, but if I did, I wouldn't be able to hang out with them), etc. The only guilty pleasure I have yet to do away with is checking out the news and funnies on the internet. 

 Why so busy? Well, pretty much, teaching. 

 Last year in Korea it was pretty easy: I hardly ever worked more than 40 hours a week. But here? I'm pulling an easy 50-60 hour work week. Not only that, but I'm constantly taking classes, which cuts into my schedule even more. 

 The results? Um, they won't be seen for a few years. But, I guess, in the mean time, it's building character and making me gain weight. Great. 

Sidenote: An hour ago, I was jealously browsing an article on Tummo. I thought, "How cool would it be to just have all the time in the world to just learn stuff that you thought was interesting..." 

So, anyways, here's my traveling story of the month: This week was a vacation from school for the Prophet's birthday. It was only supposed to be a two-day vacation, but because the government never has their act together they let everyone know at the very last minute that the holiday was actually changed, and so our school just opted to have no school for the whole week. And, yes, in case you're wondering, I fully understand the implications involved with a government that can't correctly predict when a scheduled holiday will happen a year before it happens. 

Anyways, given my work load, I decided to go into work for 3 days this week and see if I can crank out about 30 hours of planning to get caught up on stuff. So, today I went to work. At around 10 pm the security guy stops by and tells me to go home, so I pack up. 

Getting home from school is always a problem, as there are no nearby taxi stops, and the bus system is pretty ridiculous (perhaps it's run by the same agency that's in charge of setting dates for holidays). So, I decide to just walk 15 minutes to where the mall is, and see if I can catch a bus there. After waiting at the bus stop for 20 minutes, I give up, realizing yet again that the bus system here is worthless. 

I head over for the taxi stand. But, when I get there, I quickly regret my decision: because it's a Thursday night, which is the equivalent of a Friday night in America, everyone is out shopping, and the taxi stand appears to be a 20 minute wait. So, let me set this straight before I get into details: I came in on my day off, put in about 10 hours, and have just spent the past hour trying to figure out how to get home. 

Well, I wait, and a mosquito bites me. I hate those things. A few taxis pull up, and the line moves ever so slightly. Some Filipino guy says something to his friend while looking at me, and I just let it go. Stuff like that doesn't faze me anymore. A lady walks up, and tries to pretend like I'm not in line by walking to the side of me. "Silly rabbit," I think as I shift sideways to block her preemptive strike on my spot in line. She complies and gets behind me. 

Some more taxis pull up, and then a mini-van taxi pulls up. I hear some shouting and see that a group of about 10 boys is running up to it, apparently really excited that it's a min-van taxi. I kinda smile at how kids always put importance on silly things like that. Then, some of them get in the taxi. You can see them pushing each other, and shouting and laughing and having a good time. They're all Arabic kids, dressed pretty well. Some of them get out and rearrange their seating positions. Then a few walk around and start saying something to the driver. That's when it starts. 

They start making some sounds at him. I can't really tell you what the sound sounds like, but it's a sound that Arabic people make at people they don't like. By now, the 50 or so people waiting in line are watching. The driver is talking to the kids, but at this distance it's not clear what he's saying. They keep making some sounds at him, and then one of them reaches in and pulls on the driver's tie. He steps out, and now seems to be asking them to leave and walk off. They pull his tie again and start shouting things at him. One of them starts getting into some kind of fighting stance, and the other boys all get out of the taxi and start crowding around, shouting and taunting the taxi driver. 

Oh, by the way, the taxi driver is from one of the South Asian countries, probably Pakistan or Bangladesh, and it's commonly known that everyone around here (locals and foreigners included) treats those kind of people like trash. 

So, by this point everyone in line is watching and you can hear women gasping and putting their hands to their mouths. I'm tired, and I'm well aware that this whole commotion is causing me to get home even later than I'm already going to get home. I know that these kids are garbage, and that because they're local, they can pretty much get away with anything, while the driver is probably supporting his family back home and could lose his job at the drop of a hat. 

The mall security is also comprised of people from South Asia and Southeast Asia, so there's not much they can do about it if they ever show up. The guy who's in charge of loading people into the taxi is also in the same boat, and is just standing there, helpless. 

Then, the conversation gets really heated, and the kids start attacking the driver. Ten kids, all around 13 years old, start running up and hitting a guy who's about 30 years old. There's no height difference since the driver's a pretty short dude, and in retrospect, I feel sorry for the guy because he just took the blows. I didn't see him get one good hit back. Then again, in retro-retrospect, he probably didn't want to lose his job. 

Right as they throw the first punch at the driver, I do one quick look around. No one's doing anything. 50 damn people, and no one's doing anything. Usual. I don't waste any time, and just sprint out. I jump into it, and within two seconds I've pushed all the kids back and gotten the taxi driver behind me. The instigator jumps back in, and I push him back. He jumps back in, and I push him back again. The kids are yelling, but they back off. I'm pretty big compared to them. I mean, yeah, they're just kids. They try to circle, and I push them back again. Then the taxi driver, bless his heart, does something stupid and just walks out into the street again, leaving the protective zone I've made for him between me and the vehicle. Well, the kids seize the opportunity and it's the same story again. They've got him and are pulling and punching him from all sides, like a bunch of little terriers nipping at another dog. 

I jump in again, and by this time two or three other guys start helping me pull off the kids. Women are shouting, "Someone call the police! It's a gang!" This second time is a bit more difficult, mostly because the taxi driver just keeps letting them surround him and all he does is duck down and take the blows. I pull off the main instigator, and yell at him "Get out of here! Get out of here!" 

I turn to one of the kids standing by who seems like he has at least a little sense and, as I keep the other one in a hold, I ask, "Who's in charge around here? Which one of you is in charge?" He just gives me the dumb look, and kind of shakes his head. I look at the kid I'm holding on to. I can see snot running from his nose, and a few tears rolling down from his eyes. Finally the taxi driver gets in his vehicle, and the kids have backed off, some running around, and some just standing in a group off to the side. One mall security guard shows up, finally, but he doesn't seem to do much except point and tell the kids to move away. The guy at the taxi stand, who helps all the customers load into the taxis, continues to just stand and not do much. 

I walk back to the line as the taxi driver drives off. There's almost one last complication as the kids surround his vehicle, but he get away clean. For a moment I hope that he'll just plow through them, but then I realize that's way overboard. All they need is a good firm spanking, really. 

I scan the line to see where I was standing, and the lady who tried to pull that side maneuver on me says, "You were standing here." As my adrenaline pumps, no one does anything about the kids. For the next 10 minutes they just kinda run around, trying to get into other taxis. Eventually the guy in charge of loading the taxis decides to just let them get in, and some poor taxi driver drives them away, totally unaware that he has a bunch of lowlifes in his vehicle. Another 10 minutes go by, and it's finally my turn to load in. The loading guy gets my attention, and he extends his hand. "Thanks. I am from Pakistan. If my boss finds out about this, I am fired. I lose my job. Thank you." 

The security guard shakes my hand too. I take it to mean that he couldn't really get involved because he would lose his job. Perhaps that's why the taxi driver didn't do much. My taxi takes me home, unaware that I helped a buddy of his not get beat up too much by a bunch of prepubescent kids. I contemplate the plight of the working class in this country: how they have virtually no rights, and everyone treats them like they're trash. I think about my own country, and how those kids would fit in in most major cities. I don't know if the poor working class in America is looked down on quite as bad, so at least I'm a bit happy about that. I also wonder about that taxi driver, and how pissed he must be. And the kids. 

Lastly, I wonder if I did the right thing, or if I should've stepped in sooner, or what would've happened if the situation escalated. Would I have risked getting kicked out of the country? Also, the more I think about it, the more I enjoy living in countries where guns aren't allowed.

   

And, for a change of pace, here's a group of kids that are ridiculously awesome kids. I spent the last three months teaching them the fine art of basketball, and we came out slightly unscathed with a 2-8 record. I felt sorry for them a little, until the team captain, Marco (the guy with his arm on my head) told me that they hadn't won any games last year. 

p.s. I know that's a shameless plug for gun laws there at the end, but the thought honestly crossed my mind.