So I'm gearing up to leave this place. But, really, this time. And I feel like I've been living on borrowed time these last couple of weeks -- like I really did have unfinished business here that has been more or less put to rest. I'm excited about going home to see my family, not least of whom, my brother. I'm excited to go back to California, where the sun shines, and where I need my down pullover AND my down sleeping back to even be a little bit comfortable under the marine layer in the hills of Marin County. It says a lot that I'm looking forward to the frigid mornings and nights. I'm not sure why I finally feel so ready to go... perhaps because it's been more than three months? Ha. Or maybe I was able to gain new perspective from the "borowed time" of these last two weeks. As a person who gets unnervingly anxious over the slightest things, it's good to feel like closure has happened. And it will be good to get on the move again. From here to New York, from New York to Toronto, back to New York, to Cali to Costa Rica, back to Cali. And from there, I'm not sure. The plan was to go to Bolivia and Peru, but now that it looks like I'll have to fly back to New York sometime in the middle of that month, I don't belive that would be the smartest plan. So, perhaps I'll get to bum around the Bay Area again, as I so love to do. Or maybe I'll go to Colorado and finally get to see DALE... and Tamara and Liz and Jerome! What a wonderful gift, to have mas or menos 45 days that are nothing but potential energy.
I'm surprised this chapter has gone SO quickly. I've been here a full four months on Saturday. Unbelievable. I've learned a lot in my time here -- far more than just Spanish -- which I'm truly, truly thankful for. The Yoga House is a special place, and I'll bet I could spend a very long time looking for something like it, and failing. It's made me want to live communually, if I ever I do have to live somewhere for a while. It's made me want to continue to learn how to teach and do yoga better. To culivate more peace. Made me want to learn to cook better, to have a garden. To spend more time getting really caught up in really great books. Sunning. Lying in a hammock. Talking to my girlfriends. Hanging out in the kitchen. Goofing around. I'm just not sure that things will be the same without the energy and the community the people in the house, are able to grow. The only drawback, of course, is that Spanish is never spoken in the house, but... ahhh, those are the sacrifices I make.
Anyway, for all this, I do believe I'm a bit lonely this week. Actually, I don't think "lonely" is the right word, but it's as close as my vocabulary will let me get. Some sort of homesick. But homesick for a place that I've never seen or been to... yet. Longing. Waiting. Ready. Ready. Ready... to move on.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
You are afraid of my hhhuatemalaness!
Here's what I think (for those who care to know): If you've ever heard anyone talk about living "the life", they're probably talking about hanging out somewhere in Latin America. You don't make much money, but then, you don't need much. You can buy fresh fruits and vegetables at a fraction of a dollar, which is WAY less than anything you can buy at the McDonalds. You probably can get your hands on a great book -- Spanish, or English -- and spend time lounging in the hammock when you're not learning Spanish, trying to speak Spanish, or studying Spanish. The mango is a revered fruit. You can buy it cut up on the street with a little bit of salt and lemon for 5Q. After you finish a bag, it's almost as though you just want to lie down in the street, because you have attained heaven in your mouth.
So, what's not cool about where I'm living? Almost two things. One, the pollution. Xela is a small town, but no one thinks to walk anywhere. Everyone drives and the streets are filled with cars that don't pass emission inspection in California, New Mexico and Texas. So even though walking is a good activity, you are sentencing yourself to sucking exhaust fumes on your journey. Two, the attitude of the local men. For a woman who raised herself on feminist poetry, pro-woman prose, and music of the third-wave, the attitude towards the "second sex" is amazingly atrocious. Whenever I travel, I am always thankful for having brown eyes and hair becuase it relieves me from the German-inspired blond hair, blue eyed version of the gringa. When i was living with my host family, they kept asking me if my mother was Mexican. When I explained to them that no, she is Italian, they kept telling me that somewhere in my lineage was a Latinoamerican.
But for me, right now my life consits of wonderfulness. I live in a community house where I am teaching flow yoga, taking boxing lessons, and learning Ashtanga. Five people in my house work in a bookstore, so there are constantly philosophical, intelligent and interesting books floating around. I am working on three right now, including Harry Potter y La Piedra Filosofal, which is my first literary conquest in Spanish. We have a large, lovely kitchen where we cook together, eat together, and try one another's exciting new dishes. We have a patio outside the kitchen with a pila, where we do our own laundry and sit and drink tea. There is also a terrace with two incredible hammocks, just calling for anyone to bring tea to their sides, a pillow, a good book, and on the intelligent side, an alarm clock. The slow tilt and loll of the hammock is enough to guide anyone to a dreamstate, no matter how much house kombucha they've had.
As for day to day life, I've just finished my Spanish schooling. I graduated with an Advanced Degree -- a piece of paper that cost me about 800 American bones, altogether. I work three nights a week at an ambient little cafe called El Cuartito, where I get on great with the tourists becuase they are so relieved that their waitress speaks English, and where the locals think I'm cute becuase I have to smile pretty, apologize profusely and ask them to repeat themselves four times before I can be sure I am taking their order correctly. It sounds annoying, but apparently it works. We have a lot of regulars, live music, good food and the world's best mojitos. I can eat while I work, drink while I work, and best of all, laugh and chat while I work. And when there's nobody at the tables, we draw and wax philosophic instead of cleaning bathrooms or washing dishes. At the end of the day I make 56Q plus tips... which usually equals to between 8-9 USD on a good night. The next day after I work, I make a beeline for the market and buy all sorts of fresh fruits and vegetables from the K'iche farmers that come to sell.
During the day when I'm not working, I have an intercambio with a Guatemalan boy who just turned 18. I teach him english, he teaches me spanish, and we have a grand time. He has two brothers who are in the states illegally, but he wants to learn English so he can get his real papers, go to Hollywood, write scripts and become an actor. Also, he never fails to invite me to Church on Wednesday nights. I also have this great gig teaching yoga at the house... which makes me about as much as a night of waitressing, except saving me four hours of slopping coffee all over the bar.
I literally roll out of bed in the morning and go to boxing, which is held in the yoga studio ten feet from my door. I eat breakfast, I go to Ashtanga. I intercambio or lay in the hammock, devouring whatever new book made eyes at me. I eat mangos, and avocados, and mangos and mangos. I make natural tea from the bouganvillea plant outside. I watch poor quailty bootlegs dubbed into Spanish. I laugh with whoever's in the kitchen about that nasty fart someone ripped during sevasana. So okay, it's not pefect: It's missing the ocean. But beyond that, I got casi no complaints. :o)
So, what's not cool about where I'm living? Almost two things. One, the pollution. Xela is a small town, but no one thinks to walk anywhere. Everyone drives and the streets are filled with cars that don't pass emission inspection in California, New Mexico and Texas. So even though walking is a good activity, you are sentencing yourself to sucking exhaust fumes on your journey. Two, the attitude of the local men. For a woman who raised herself on feminist poetry, pro-woman prose, and music of the third-wave, the attitude towards the "second sex" is amazingly atrocious. Whenever I travel, I am always thankful for having brown eyes and hair becuase it relieves me from the German-inspired blond hair, blue eyed version of the gringa. When i was living with my host family, they kept asking me if my mother was Mexican. When I explained to them that no, she is Italian, they kept telling me that somewhere in my lineage was a Latinoamerican.
But for me, right now my life consits of wonderfulness. I live in a community house where I am teaching flow yoga, taking boxing lessons, and learning Ashtanga. Five people in my house work in a bookstore, so there are constantly philosophical, intelligent and interesting books floating around. I am working on three right now, including Harry Potter y La Piedra Filosofal, which is my first literary conquest in Spanish. We have a large, lovely kitchen where we cook together, eat together, and try one another's exciting new dishes. We have a patio outside the kitchen with a pila, where we do our own laundry and sit and drink tea. There is also a terrace with two incredible hammocks, just calling for anyone to bring tea to their sides, a pillow, a good book, and on the intelligent side, an alarm clock. The slow tilt and loll of the hammock is enough to guide anyone to a dreamstate, no matter how much house kombucha they've had.
As for day to day life, I've just finished my Spanish schooling. I graduated with an Advanced Degree -- a piece of paper that cost me about 800 American bones, altogether. I work three nights a week at an ambient little cafe called El Cuartito, where I get on great with the tourists becuase they are so relieved that their waitress speaks English, and where the locals think I'm cute becuase I have to smile pretty, apologize profusely and ask them to repeat themselves four times before I can be sure I am taking their order correctly. It sounds annoying, but apparently it works. We have a lot of regulars, live music, good food and the world's best mojitos. I can eat while I work, drink while I work, and best of all, laugh and chat while I work. And when there's nobody at the tables, we draw and wax philosophic instead of cleaning bathrooms or washing dishes. At the end of the day I make 56Q plus tips... which usually equals to between 8-9 USD on a good night. The next day after I work, I make a beeline for the market and buy all sorts of fresh fruits and vegetables from the K'iche farmers that come to sell.
During the day when I'm not working, I have an intercambio with a Guatemalan boy who just turned 18. I teach him english, he teaches me spanish, and we have a grand time. He has two brothers who are in the states illegally, but he wants to learn English so he can get his real papers, go to Hollywood, write scripts and become an actor. Also, he never fails to invite me to Church on Wednesday nights. I also have this great gig teaching yoga at the house... which makes me about as much as a night of waitressing, except saving me four hours of slopping coffee all over the bar.
I literally roll out of bed in the morning and go to boxing, which is held in the yoga studio ten feet from my door. I eat breakfast, I go to Ashtanga. I intercambio or lay in the hammock, devouring whatever new book made eyes at me. I eat mangos, and avocados, and mangos and mangos. I make natural tea from the bouganvillea plant outside. I watch poor quailty bootlegs dubbed into Spanish. I laugh with whoever's in the kitchen about that nasty fart someone ripped during sevasana. So okay, it's not pefect: It's missing the ocean. But beyond that, I got casi no complaints. :o)
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Poems of a Past Life
So here's me. I'm at my parent's house in Guilderland for approximately one month. As I am here for an extended period of time, I have decided that I will finally clean up all the boxes in the basement... so that I know where all my crap is, should I ever actually need to put it someone one of these years.
Productivity on the home front has been pretty good so far, because my jet lag won't allow me to sleep more than four hours a night. And I refuse to use up good daytime hours with shut-eye, so I'm getting in like a twenty hour day... almost every day. It's kind of frustrating not to feel like you can adequately think or speak straight, but while I'm going through boxes I need to do neither, and the people that I get to be around now have known me since I was 13 so they knew me before I actually COULD think or speak straight. And that really goes a long way.
But during the day, when it is dumping down snow and I can't ride my bike anyway... I am homebound. So inevitably, I have been forging through old poems and songs and stuff. I put them all in a little box, and mailed them to myself -- a good suggestion from my cousin -- to prevent plagiarism. Not that I think anyone would really want to steal my little ditties... but hey, best to do what you can do, eh?
Anyway, since these little pieces of me aren't doing any good just sitting around in boxes, i have decided to post some of them, burn some of them, and recycle some of them. Since the blog is just going to be chilling out while I'm home, I figured that's a good forum for it.
So anyway, here are two poems that I found that I kinda liked. It's weird, for the most part I'm generally a happy girl, but most of the time when I write it sounds like I'm a torture victim. So, pardon, I guess. It's my therapy...
This one doesn't have a title, or a date on it, but it looks like the book it was written in started in 2004, so it was probably written in 04 or 05. And I sound terribly sad!! :(
Ask me why I want you and I'd tell you
"It beats me"
And sometimes man, it does
Leaves welts in places no one sees
caresses and then crushes me
Suddenly I'm sinking and what's left is something you can't see
A ghost of what I used to be
Yet you're still there, somewhere inside
lurking like a child learning to seek and hide
Except I can always find you
Even when I don't try to --
like when I hear Dan Bern sing about Key West
and I remember how I like you best
and he tried to escape
but baby I just want to rest
Cuz I can't sleep beside your memory --
which is irony at its best
And I remember that old morning
you took my hand and curled my toes
and I was peeking through my hair, from the pillow
in throes of disbelief and happiness
of what could come from all of this
but
nothing comes from nothingness
and that's all there is to say
I guess
Aaaaaaaand this one looks unfinished. And I think I actually like it enough to maybe play around with it and turn it into a song. It is needy, and it's about singing. And I haven't written a song since I came back from New Zealand. This one doesn't have a title either. Or a date. Dammit. I used to be so good at that!
Somewhere there's a radio station playing out loud
I can't tune it out
and I can't tone it down
It blankets the world in static and sound
and everything beautiful wades in
and drowns
There is a babbling brook that spills from your mouth
and your words build a bridge from your thoughts to my doubts
But your waters run dry
you can't quench my thirst
and I hate how
you never let me come first
Still the kids in Uganda, they sing their songs
rising from the pit of all the pain in Patong
and the tears they flow like the mallet along
the old-souled wood on the xylophone
and the beauty beguiles me, intrepid and strong
And what I know is I understand
a hollow box of wood in my hands
and strumming out from within, whatever I can
to match what I can no longer stand
I wish that I could talk to you the way we sing at night
5 little fingers and 6 sweet strings spring up out of the blight
that light can't usually get through
that tries to crawl out of my mouth whenever it has the chance to
But not when we're singin'
When we're singing' we're free
Shedding lies like skin
skin like gravity
and we're up, we're just floatin'
my guitar and me
... and that's where that puppy ends. but i think with some tinkering that could turn out nice!
Anyway, if you liked that round, I will probably post some more as I come across them. I still have a lot of stuff to get through......... :)
Productivity on the home front has been pretty good so far, because my jet lag won't allow me to sleep more than four hours a night. And I refuse to use up good daytime hours with shut-eye, so I'm getting in like a twenty hour day... almost every day. It's kind of frustrating not to feel like you can adequately think or speak straight, but while I'm going through boxes I need to do neither, and the people that I get to be around now have known me since I was 13 so they knew me before I actually COULD think or speak straight. And that really goes a long way.
But during the day, when it is dumping down snow and I can't ride my bike anyway... I am homebound. So inevitably, I have been forging through old poems and songs and stuff. I put them all in a little box, and mailed them to myself -- a good suggestion from my cousin -- to prevent plagiarism. Not that I think anyone would really want to steal my little ditties... but hey, best to do what you can do, eh?
Anyway, since these little pieces of me aren't doing any good just sitting around in boxes, i have decided to post some of them, burn some of them, and recycle some of them. Since the blog is just going to be chilling out while I'm home, I figured that's a good forum for it.
So anyway, here are two poems that I found that I kinda liked. It's weird, for the most part I'm generally a happy girl, but most of the time when I write it sounds like I'm a torture victim. So, pardon, I guess. It's my therapy...
This one doesn't have a title, or a date on it, but it looks like the book it was written in started in 2004, so it was probably written in 04 or 05. And I sound terribly sad!! :(
Ask me why I want you and I'd tell you
"It beats me"
And sometimes man, it does
Leaves welts in places no one sees
caresses and then crushes me
Suddenly I'm sinking and what's left is something you can't see
A ghost of what I used to be
Yet you're still there, somewhere inside
lurking like a child learning to seek and hide
Except I can always find you
Even when I don't try to --
like when I hear Dan Bern sing about Key West
and I remember how I like you best
and he tried to escape
but baby I just want to rest
Cuz I can't sleep beside your memory --
which is irony at its best
And I remember that old morning
you took my hand and curled my toes
and I was peeking through my hair, from the pillow
in throes of disbelief and happiness
of what could come from all of this
but
nothing comes from nothingness
and that's all there is to say
I guess
Aaaaaaaand this one looks unfinished. And I think I actually like it enough to maybe play around with it and turn it into a song. It is needy, and it's about singing. And I haven't written a song since I came back from New Zealand. This one doesn't have a title either. Or a date. Dammit. I used to be so good at that!
Somewhere there's a radio station playing out loud
I can't tune it out
and I can't tone it down
It blankets the world in static and sound
and everything beautiful wades in
and drowns
There is a babbling brook that spills from your mouth
and your words build a bridge from your thoughts to my doubts
But your waters run dry
you can't quench my thirst
and I hate how
you never let me come first
Still the kids in Uganda, they sing their songs
rising from the pit of all the pain in Patong
and the tears they flow like the mallet along
the old-souled wood on the xylophone
and the beauty beguiles me, intrepid and strong
And what I know is I understand
a hollow box of wood in my hands
and strumming out from within, whatever I can
to match what I can no longer stand
I wish that I could talk to you the way we sing at night
5 little fingers and 6 sweet strings spring up out of the blight
that light can't usually get through
that tries to crawl out of my mouth whenever it has the chance to
But not when we're singin'
When we're singing' we're free
Shedding lies like skin
skin like gravity
and we're up, we're just floatin'
my guitar and me
... and that's where that puppy ends. but i think with some tinkering that could turn out nice!
Anyway, if you liked that round, I will probably post some more as I come across them. I still have a lot of stuff to get through......... :)
Monday, December 15, 2008
S T U C K
This past week has been so strange. I am now on the third day of what will turn out to be a four day journey home. I will not miss overnight train or bus rides, sleeping in the airport, or smog.
However, looking back just a few days, my last night in Krabi rivaled my last night on Lamma, give or take a few degrees. It was a wonderfully clear sky, with a bright full moon, and there was just something lurking in the air. For the first half of the night I was laying around on these beautiful platforms, listening to the ocean with one ear, and to the music with the other. Watching fire spinners working out their stuff. Among other things that night, I am now in love with this band called the Bedouin Sound Clash... I think. No one could really tell me much, except that they are from England and have a pretty good following. As I have been out of the country and most of the music scene for the past three months... if anyone has any idea what band I'm talking about, I would LOVE more info. Cuz I need the music. Asap.
The next day was a late start and a bit of a let down on the island. Apparently the guy that Elle and Emma had met the night before kind of blew us off, as we were supposed to use his rope to go climbing so that we could get out of a crazy fee for only a few hours. At this point I went solemnly wandering the island, hoping someone would see how pathetic I looked and tell me they would take me out climbing. And it worked! Except, my new friend Mic is a really good climber and his new friend Jess is NOT. So we went to the Fire Wall, where the two of us managed to scramble me up this one crazy hard route, and then I got halfway through another one before my arms decided they were going to take the rest of the day off. Quitters. It didn't really matter, though, because I was headed off to Ao Nang to head to Bangkok to head back to Hong Kong to head to San Francisco to head home.
Lucky for me, I met a lovely British fellow on the pickup truck in Ao Nang and we were able to accompany each other all the way to Bangkok Airport the next day. It worked out so well, our flights were leaving within ten minutes of each other. This guy works for British Airways and was making me wildly jealous with his tales. He gets to fly pretty much anywhere for next to nothing, is funny, fun to talk to, makes enough to vacation whenever he wants and gets loads of time off. In addition to all that good stuff, his girlfriend gets to fly wherever SHE wants pretty much for free. So I casually asked him if he thought he would be needing a new girlfriend any time soon. Turns out he is quite attached to the current one. Go figure.
It doesn't REALLY matter though, because though I joke about the British Airways dude, I did meet a nice man I actually would marry. Of course, he doesn't know that, cuz he is pratically married off to someone who is not me, so there's no need in making a fool out of myself. But that's the rub about meeting so many people all the time. It seems like I am constantly nurturing a smarting heart.
And now I'm stuck in the Hong Kong airport. Yesterday was probably the worst day I have had in a very long time. Everything was fine until I realized that $3000 in traveler's cheques were missing from my money belt. So as I was trying to deal with that, my plane (unbeknownst to me) was taking off without me because I forgot to set my watch forward an hour from Bangkok time. I could see the plane rolling away as I got to the gate, and I thought to myself, "why is there no one here? They must have moved the gate... again" But then as I was walking up, the woman at the boarding gate said "Miss Brown?" and then in my surprise that this woman would know who I am out of alllllllll the passengers on this flight... it hit me exactly what was happening. And from two nights of no sleep and not eating properly, I just broke down and started sobbing on the floor. It was so awful. I was so thrilled with the idea of getting picked up by my dad, and then heading to a hotel - which is oddly something that is really fun for me, staying in hotel- and then goign home without ever having to navigate my way through ONE subway with my huge bags. Plus with the advent of the traveler's cheques and the fact that I didn't have any more money, and that I KNEW they were going to steal that stupid change fee from me... I wajust lost it. Oh man, it was horrible. I effectlively bought another plane ticket just because I made a stupid mistake. That 250 bucks gets me a whole week of Spanish school, or a one way ticket to the Bay area, or a round trip ticket to Guatemala. I tried telling this to the woman behind the counter, through sniffs and sobs, but she wasn't hearing it. I hope if she's ever in a state like I was yesterday, she doesn't run into herself somewhere. Cuz that was not fun at all.
But there are nice people all over the place, and as I was huddled in a corner trying to make sense of myself, feeling really stupid and lonely and trying to blubber quietly, this wonderful man... whom I will refer to now as my Balinese Guardian Angel... came over with a sandwich and some water and sat and talked with me for a long time. He did some breathing exercises with me, and we chatted for a long time about Hinduism and spirituality and meditation. It was great. It made me almost want to cancel my trip home and head to Bali with him and his family. Which is good, I like being excited about that. But Bali will be still be there when I actually have money, so like most things, it will have to wait.
So it's now ten o clock and I am going to check in for my flight. With any luck, in another 24 hours I will be in a car, with my dad, heading home. Finally.
However, looking back just a few days, my last night in Krabi rivaled my last night on Lamma, give or take a few degrees. It was a wonderfully clear sky, with a bright full moon, and there was just something lurking in the air. For the first half of the night I was laying around on these beautiful platforms, listening to the ocean with one ear, and to the music with the other. Watching fire spinners working out their stuff. Among other things that night, I am now in love with this band called the Bedouin Sound Clash... I think. No one could really tell me much, except that they are from England and have a pretty good following. As I have been out of the country and most of the music scene for the past three months... if anyone has any idea what band I'm talking about, I would LOVE more info. Cuz I need the music. Asap.
The next day was a late start and a bit of a let down on the island. Apparently the guy that Elle and Emma had met the night before kind of blew us off, as we were supposed to use his rope to go climbing so that we could get out of a crazy fee for only a few hours. At this point I went solemnly wandering the island, hoping someone would see how pathetic I looked and tell me they would take me out climbing. And it worked! Except, my new friend Mic is a really good climber and his new friend Jess is NOT. So we went to the Fire Wall, where the two of us managed to scramble me up this one crazy hard route, and then I got halfway through another one before my arms decided they were going to take the rest of the day off. Quitters. It didn't really matter, though, because I was headed off to Ao Nang to head to Bangkok to head back to Hong Kong to head to San Francisco to head home.
Lucky for me, I met a lovely British fellow on the pickup truck in Ao Nang and we were able to accompany each other all the way to Bangkok Airport the next day. It worked out so well, our flights were leaving within ten minutes of each other. This guy works for British Airways and was making me wildly jealous with his tales. He gets to fly pretty much anywhere for next to nothing, is funny, fun to talk to, makes enough to vacation whenever he wants and gets loads of time off. In addition to all that good stuff, his girlfriend gets to fly wherever SHE wants pretty much for free. So I casually asked him if he thought he would be needing a new girlfriend any time soon. Turns out he is quite attached to the current one. Go figure.
It doesn't REALLY matter though, because though I joke about the British Airways dude, I did meet a nice man I actually would marry. Of course, he doesn't know that, cuz he is pratically married off to someone who is not me, so there's no need in making a fool out of myself. But that's the rub about meeting so many people all the time. It seems like I am constantly nurturing a smarting heart.
And now I'm stuck in the Hong Kong airport. Yesterday was probably the worst day I have had in a very long time. Everything was fine until I realized that $3000 in traveler's cheques were missing from my money belt. So as I was trying to deal with that, my plane (unbeknownst to me) was taking off without me because I forgot to set my watch forward an hour from Bangkok time. I could see the plane rolling away as I got to the gate, and I thought to myself, "why is there no one here? They must have moved the gate... again" But then as I was walking up, the woman at the boarding gate said "Miss Brown?" and then in my surprise that this woman would know who I am out of alllllllll the passengers on this flight... it hit me exactly what was happening. And from two nights of no sleep and not eating properly, I just broke down and started sobbing on the floor. It was so awful. I was so thrilled with the idea of getting picked up by my dad, and then heading to a hotel - which is oddly something that is really fun for me, staying in hotel- and then goign home without ever having to navigate my way through ONE subway with my huge bags. Plus with the advent of the traveler's cheques and the fact that I didn't have any more money, and that I KNEW they were going to steal that stupid change fee from me... I wajust lost it. Oh man, it was horrible. I effectlively bought another plane ticket just because I made a stupid mistake. That 250 bucks gets me a whole week of Spanish school, or a one way ticket to the Bay area, or a round trip ticket to Guatemala. I tried telling this to the woman behind the counter, through sniffs and sobs, but she wasn't hearing it. I hope if she's ever in a state like I was yesterday, she doesn't run into herself somewhere. Cuz that was not fun at all.
But there are nice people all over the place, and as I was huddled in a corner trying to make sense of myself, feeling really stupid and lonely and trying to blubber quietly, this wonderful man... whom I will refer to now as my Balinese Guardian Angel... came over with a sandwich and some water and sat and talked with me for a long time. He did some breathing exercises with me, and we chatted for a long time about Hinduism and spirituality and meditation. It was great. It made me almost want to cancel my trip home and head to Bali with him and his family. Which is good, I like being excited about that. But Bali will be still be there when I actually have money, so like most things, it will have to wait.
So it's now ten o clock and I am going to check in for my flight. With any luck, in another 24 hours I will be in a car, with my dad, heading home. Finally.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thailand
It's amazing how much you can feel in a matter of 24 hours. I actually wound up having a really fun last week in Hong Kong, and getting to do almost everything that I wanted. I met two super fun dudes on the ferry to lamma one day, who wound up accompanying me to do the Sharp Peak hike I had been trying to get to since, like, week 2. But, as per ususaly, it was well worth the wait, and it was nice to spend my last weekend away from the city.
The day I left for Thailand was an absolute mess. I arrived home in the morning from a sweet, but relatively sleepless night, in a pagoda that overlooks the South China Sea on one of the Lamma coasts. I came home to Emma and Elle throwing clothes everywhere. Another one of our co-workers arrived in at like 5 in the morning and was trying to sleep on the couch. When he realized that wasn't working, he instead got up and began to shout things at Emma and Elle when they were asking questions of each other regarding what to take with them. It turned into a joke show. For many reasons, I was laughing my ass off. And that was good. But the actual packing, after two nights on low sleep, was ridonkulous. I managed to get away with a 40 L bag that was only abot 2/3 full, so at least that was sweet.
So far I have been dealing with some crazy feelings coming up while having been here. Emma is so keen to beach it all the time, and Elle has been like a madwoman leading climbs. I have been having a little bit of a hard time with the fact that I feel like I wasted a bunch of time doing the 16 hour train ride up and back, for a day and a half of climbing. But... I think that's part of the bigger picture that I can't expect myself to melt into all the nuances of a new country, and then be gone, in less than a week. I *almost* wish I had stayed in Hong Kong and gone to the monestary I found... but I know when I can get home and actually process through whatever is going on inside my head that's giving me such squirrels in my belly... then I will be happy for having been. And will be keen to go back.
Until then, I leave tomorrow from this beautiful beachy, climbing paradise. I am: ________ (fill in the blank with any emotion and chances are you'll be right.) Tell ya what though, I'm NOT looking foward to snow on the ground in New York. So thankfully I will keep my head right here on this warm beach, until I ab-so-LOOT-ley have to. :)
The day I left for Thailand was an absolute mess. I arrived home in the morning from a sweet, but relatively sleepless night, in a pagoda that overlooks the South China Sea on one of the Lamma coasts. I came home to Emma and Elle throwing clothes everywhere. Another one of our co-workers arrived in at like 5 in the morning and was trying to sleep on the couch. When he realized that wasn't working, he instead got up and began to shout things at Emma and Elle when they were asking questions of each other regarding what to take with them. It turned into a joke show. For many reasons, I was laughing my ass off. And that was good. But the actual packing, after two nights on low sleep, was ridonkulous. I managed to get away with a 40 L bag that was only abot 2/3 full, so at least that was sweet.
So far I have been dealing with some crazy feelings coming up while having been here. Emma is so keen to beach it all the time, and Elle has been like a madwoman leading climbs. I have been having a little bit of a hard time with the fact that I feel like I wasted a bunch of time doing the 16 hour train ride up and back, for a day and a half of climbing. But... I think that's part of the bigger picture that I can't expect myself to melt into all the nuances of a new country, and then be gone, in less than a week. I *almost* wish I had stayed in Hong Kong and gone to the monestary I found... but I know when I can get home and actually process through whatever is going on inside my head that's giving me such squirrels in my belly... then I will be happy for having been. And will be keen to go back.
Until then, I leave tomorrow from this beautiful beachy, climbing paradise. I am: ________ (fill in the blank with any emotion and chances are you'll be right.) Tell ya what though, I'm NOT looking foward to snow on the ground in New York. So thankfully I will keep my head right here on this warm beach, until I ab-so-LOOT-ley have to. :)
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Comfortable
If I were to set a scene for my life the past week, it would look like: Three girls, running around half naked or half sane, or both... trying to put some sense into the craziness of the world, and failing with gusto.
And now it's coming to an end. Truly. And all of a sudden I find myself wearing this strange hat I didn't know I had. Emma practically had to pack my bags for me as I was on my way to the airport. Most of the time I get such a high off of traveling alone and meeting people and letting the chips fall as they may. But right now, in this moment, I would rather hang out in stinky Hong Kong to hang with my roommies than explore and expand in the temples of Siem Reap. Before today I was sure I was angry about not being able to leave, but today I'm citting my hair, singin in the shower, and playing lonely games, as I was told to do. And honestly I am elated that I am forced to wait for my friends before I can fly out.
Creepily, I'm even more excited because I literally am FORCED to wait for them, so I don't actually have to own up to the fact that I'd really rather stick around then go exploring. Cuz if I had to own up to that, I would definitely have to scold myself. Which is silly anyway. Many times I have to remind myself to step back and laugh at it all. Like I did today. A lot. So much so that some patrons at the beach were looking at me strangely, which just made me laugh more. Ha, joke's on them.
I was thinking fondly on California today, and how nice it was going to be to head back to a job I love, and people I love, and weather I, well, you know... it's not bad. Working on the beach and spending days with the kayster and sasha and being able to be in contact with the people I love. It has been months since I spoke with Dale and that's not sitting well with me at all. I am young enough to want freedom in most of its aspects, but old enough to know that there are some things you must hold precious and need not take for granted.
Hopefully not wanting to be alone is a phase. Or, perhaps I'm just lonely and ready to go home. Ready to speak the language, ready to hug michelle belle and patio, linders and shawna, lengli and the el martin. Ready to wax philosophic with Janet and laugh out loud with Elise. There are myriad ways to keep in touch with people these days, but none of it suffices at the heart of the matter. Or at least, instead of filling my reserves it leaves me wanting for more. But I was always that way, I think. I can remember being really young and staying over at my Grandmother's house. Every night I would get sad and want to call my parents, and after every call I would just cry harder. If she were smart, she would have hid the phone and told me it was broken.
At any rate, with the advent of the Bangkok thing blowing over, at least for now, it looks like I will be booking my flight for the 8th and just hanging around here until then. I need to hit up some of the markets for presents, and I am planning on hiking a mountain called Sharp Peak on Thursday or Friday. So it's not as though I will have as much time to fill as I was imagining. Plus, I know have no need to buy any food, as everyone who left (which is EVERYONE) left food at the house I am now staying at. So I don't even need to spend money on food or drink. I was even gifted a dvd of strange Asian porn. I would like to think that I was accidentally gifted said dvd, but it was nestled so nicely in the middle of them all, that most of me has to believe it was hidden. Either way that should provide an hour or so of a party for one.
So I get to feast on everyone else's food, walk in the leftover shoes, wear the leftover clothes, watch the leftover DVDs and read the leftover books. Fortunately I have been so busy distracting myself for at least two weeks, that even though I do not like it, I think the very thing I need is to be is in this nice house with no one I know around to distract me. Plus, it's good to do things we don't like every once in a while.
And now it's coming to an end. Truly. And all of a sudden I find myself wearing this strange hat I didn't know I had. Emma practically had to pack my bags for me as I was on my way to the airport. Most of the time I get such a high off of traveling alone and meeting people and letting the chips fall as they may. But right now, in this moment, I would rather hang out in stinky Hong Kong to hang with my roommies than explore and expand in the temples of Siem Reap. Before today I was sure I was angry about not being able to leave, but today I'm citting my hair, singin in the shower, and playing lonely games, as I was told to do. And honestly I am elated that I am forced to wait for my friends before I can fly out.
Creepily, I'm even more excited because I literally am FORCED to wait for them, so I don't actually have to own up to the fact that I'd really rather stick around then go exploring. Cuz if I had to own up to that, I would definitely have to scold myself. Which is silly anyway. Many times I have to remind myself to step back and laugh at it all. Like I did today. A lot. So much so that some patrons at the beach were looking at me strangely, which just made me laugh more. Ha, joke's on them.
I was thinking fondly on California today, and how nice it was going to be to head back to a job I love, and people I love, and weather I, well, you know... it's not bad. Working on the beach and spending days with the kayster and sasha and being able to be in contact with the people I love. It has been months since I spoke with Dale and that's not sitting well with me at all. I am young enough to want freedom in most of its aspects, but old enough to know that there are some things you must hold precious and need not take for granted.
Hopefully not wanting to be alone is a phase. Or, perhaps I'm just lonely and ready to go home. Ready to speak the language, ready to hug michelle belle and patio, linders and shawna, lengli and the el martin. Ready to wax philosophic with Janet and laugh out loud with Elise. There are myriad ways to keep in touch with people these days, but none of it suffices at the heart of the matter. Or at least, instead of filling my reserves it leaves me wanting for more. But I was always that way, I think. I can remember being really young and staying over at my Grandmother's house. Every night I would get sad and want to call my parents, and after every call I would just cry harder. If she were smart, she would have hid the phone and told me it was broken.
At any rate, with the advent of the Bangkok thing blowing over, at least for now, it looks like I will be booking my flight for the 8th and just hanging around here until then. I need to hit up some of the markets for presents, and I am planning on hiking a mountain called Sharp Peak on Thursday or Friday. So it's not as though I will have as much time to fill as I was imagining. Plus, I know have no need to buy any food, as everyone who left (which is EVERYONE) left food at the house I am now staying at. So I don't even need to spend money on food or drink. I was even gifted a dvd of strange Asian porn. I would like to think that I was accidentally gifted said dvd, but it was nestled so nicely in the middle of them all, that most of me has to believe it was hidden. Either way that should provide an hour or so of a party for one.
So I get to feast on everyone else's food, walk in the leftover shoes, wear the leftover clothes, watch the leftover DVDs and read the leftover books. Fortunately I have been so busy distracting myself for at least two weeks, that even though I do not like it, I think the very thing I need is to be is in this nice house with no one I know around to distract me. Plus, it's good to do things we don't like every once in a while.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
10 is for everything, everything, everything
Tomorrow will be my second to last day, on my last program for this job I have had in Asia. I have been killing myself this past month with all sorts of anxiety, but other than that it has been great. I realized the other day that although the job was not what I thought it was going to be, so many good things have happened since I've been out here. And I think my personal skill set has benefitted, for both my work and play lives. Unfortuantely, my work skill set has not benefitted from the job I am working, but from the people who lend themselves to workin there. That part has been really nice.
I have taken pretty good advantage of my free time lately... getting out and hiking, as well as going climbing with some really rad people. My last venture I went out with my roommmate Emma and our co-worker/friend Megan (who works as a ski patroler in SLC, coincidentally) and I was able to get myself up an arrete climb called Blade Runner... which I think was only a 5.9... but it was probably the hardest thing I had to voluntarily do in a long time. Among being one of the harder ratings I've ever climbed, it was also a really high one. It was a 2 pitch that *could* be done in one, if someone belayed from the top. When I got up there, I couldn't even enjoy the view. But now that the airlines screwed up my thailand flight and I have another two days here... I'm hoping maybe to make it back and try again. :)
I also got truly swallowed by a wave while belaying on an island called Tung Lung, but that is a story I would like to save for late nights where there are beers and campfires and hopefully s'mores involved. If theres' one thing they just DON'T know how to do in Hong Kong, it's definitely S'mores. Chalk one up for America!
We are having a big end of season party on Thursday here, and then most of us will be disbanding and heading to all the different places one could head to from the Hong Kong hub. I was supposed to leave for Bangkok on Saturday, but Air Asia screwed me up and never processed my credit card. Which is really bogus b/c an old Hasher friend of mine and her new husband are randomly IN Bangkok on Saturday, and now I don' t even leave Hong Kong until Monday night. B-O-O, H-O-O. Hopefully, though I will get to see them that night, and possibly the next day depending on when their flight leaves on the 2nd.
Beyond that, I'm hoping to leave for Cambodia soon after I arrive in thailand, mainly to see Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. I am REALLY excired for travel, but a little nervous that there will be sooooooo many people that I will just feel incredibly overwhelmed. Either way, plans are to meet up with my rommates in Krabbi to check out the sweet crags and climb our little hearts out. I am especially psyched about this, because I figure by day 3 I will no longer have to remind myself to breathe, and I can actually get some enjoyment out of it DURING the actual climbing!!
I spent 500 bucks on tickets last night, and I'm wondering when I will remember that I am actually POOR. I am heading to Salt Lake in January to volunteer for the Sundance Festival. Old friends have already GRACIOUSLY accepted me into their homes, new friends will most likely be traveling over from the West, and there will tons of BRAND SPANKIN NEW friends to meet during the festival........ which is always a good time... but a better one now that I can enjoy the parties b/c I'm not workina day job :) FUN!
Ooh, AND plans are pretty much set for Guatemala coming in February. So if anyone wants any part of that... the more the merrier! :) I believe myself and my good friend Audrey will be attending Spanish School somewhere in that little country... we haven't yet decided. And I plan to go til I'm good enough to keep it up on my own (i.e., read Harry Potter in Spanish) or til the money runs out. (Or til I can salsa the socks off the locals... and kay-bear.) Oh, and anyone who knows Patio should tell him to come too.
Tomorrow starts the firsts of lasts for me on this journey. I'm sad to be leaving the people I've met here, but really excited to be heading again into unknown territory.
I have taken pretty good advantage of my free time lately... getting out and hiking, as well as going climbing with some really rad people. My last venture I went out with my roommmate Emma and our co-worker/friend Megan (who works as a ski patroler in SLC, coincidentally) and I was able to get myself up an arrete climb called Blade Runner... which I think was only a 5.9... but it was probably the hardest thing I had to voluntarily do in a long time. Among being one of the harder ratings I've ever climbed, it was also a really high one. It was a 2 pitch that *could* be done in one, if someone belayed from the top. When I got up there, I couldn't even enjoy the view. But now that the airlines screwed up my thailand flight and I have another two days here... I'm hoping maybe to make it back and try again. :)
I also got truly swallowed by a wave while belaying on an island called Tung Lung, but that is a story I would like to save for late nights where there are beers and campfires and hopefully s'mores involved. If theres' one thing they just DON'T know how to do in Hong Kong, it's definitely S'mores. Chalk one up for America!
We are having a big end of season party on Thursday here, and then most of us will be disbanding and heading to all the different places one could head to from the Hong Kong hub. I was supposed to leave for Bangkok on Saturday, but Air Asia screwed me up and never processed my credit card. Which is really bogus b/c an old Hasher friend of mine and her new husband are randomly IN Bangkok on Saturday, and now I don' t even leave Hong Kong until Monday night. B-O-O, H-O-O. Hopefully, though I will get to see them that night, and possibly the next day depending on when their flight leaves on the 2nd.
Beyond that, I'm hoping to leave for Cambodia soon after I arrive in thailand, mainly to see Phnom Penh and Siem Reap. I am REALLY excired for travel, but a little nervous that there will be sooooooo many people that I will just feel incredibly overwhelmed. Either way, plans are to meet up with my rommates in Krabbi to check out the sweet crags and climb our little hearts out. I am especially psyched about this, because I figure by day 3 I will no longer have to remind myself to breathe, and I can actually get some enjoyment out of it DURING the actual climbing!!
I spent 500 bucks on tickets last night, and I'm wondering when I will remember that I am actually POOR. I am heading to Salt Lake in January to volunteer for the Sundance Festival. Old friends have already GRACIOUSLY accepted me into their homes, new friends will most likely be traveling over from the West, and there will tons of BRAND SPANKIN NEW friends to meet during the festival........ which is always a good time... but a better one now that I can enjoy the parties b/c I'm not workina day job :) FUN!
Ooh, AND plans are pretty much set for Guatemala coming in February. So if anyone wants any part of that... the more the merrier! :) I believe myself and my good friend Audrey will be attending Spanish School somewhere in that little country... we haven't yet decided. And I plan to go til I'm good enough to keep it up on my own (i.e., read Harry Potter in Spanish) or til the money runs out. (Or til I can salsa the socks off the locals... and kay-bear.) Oh, and anyone who knows Patio should tell him to come too.
Tomorrow starts the firsts of lasts for me on this journey. I'm sad to be leaving the people I've met here, but really excited to be heading again into unknown territory.
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