Don't Be Bad No More.

We're waving them off. To be honest they look a lot like ants. Hundreds of them darting in and out of the buses, clambering over one another, over the backs of seats. Throwing out handkerchiefs. Blowing kisses. Shaking hands. Bowing heads. There are so many of them. And we're here to see them off. To watch them leave the town, their families, and pregnant wives; to take roads we've never driven, across the whole country, to waiting boats filled with even more angry, anxious, hopeful, men. Boats that will sail oceans we've never seen. We're waving them off. We're whistling. We're holding our hands together, and pushing our lips into smiles. Just like our mothers told us we should.