Since I've been spending more time in town, I've started to remember what it's like to have a commute. Yes, there's only a 15-30 minute distance between my village and town, but it's the hardest commute I've ever had...since it all depends on the whims of others.
    There are no direct buses and there are no guarantees. Honestly, I am in a better position than I used to be, not knowing how I could leave the village at all and depending completely on my host father's connections. Now that I have my own, it's me who curses angrily walking on the road because my plan has fallen through,
    Take last Thursday for example: as usual, I called my reliable taxi driver buddy a day ahead and arranged for him to pick me up early the following morning. I have meetings and classes starting at 9:30 in town and I like having some time before to settle in and maybe grab something for breakfast. My neighbor is the village postman and spends the first half of his weekdays in town, and he has his own car. At first, I used to bum a ride from him, but he always leaves later.
    So, there I was, smug in my careful planning, believing that the car would be there in 5 minutes. Ok, maybe 10. 20?
    Concerned, I called him, only to have him scream in my ear, “UZAQ!”
    The silent fuming began. I know what you're thinking, why didn't he tell me he couldn't take me into town? Trust me, no one ever does.
    So, I glanced at my neighbor's yard, leisurely having his breakfast. That just made me twitch. So, I stomped my way to the road with a matching curse for every step. I always used to say that traffic produced the most creative cursing from me.
    No longer true.
    I wondered why people couldn't understand commitments, or even the commitment I had made to them. What, did they just think that I could magically appear in all the places they wanted me to without any help? Yes, people think I'm crazy for doing this job, including my community, but at least don't make it harder.
    The more drivers that told me they weren't going into town, the more alone and abandoned I felt. The pinnacle of those feelings came as I finally reached the road, having no clue if a driver I knew or even just a taxi would pass by.
    And then I heard:
    “Sabahın xeyir müəllim! Hara gedirsən?”
    I turned to find the village's poet, a man who always manages to be there when I need a ride...when I have groceries, when it's raining, and now, when I have no way of getting to work.
    I immediately regretted every negative thing I was thinking 5 minutes before. Well, not everything, just the generalizations that neglect the types of people I have met and have yet to meet that have been unfailingly generous.
    There's something I like to say when I want to seem clever: It's important to be disappointed, to fail. It does wonders for your patience and your ability to persevere. I guess I have to remember that myself as well.

Your Azerbaijani for the Day:
UZAQ – FAR!...meaning he had said he was far away and wasn't able to drive me to town and when I began to ask why he didn't tell me before, he decided to reiterate the most important part of his statement for explanation.
Sabahın xeyir müəllim! Hara gedirsən? - Good morning teacher! Where are you going?