Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Forty-two.


How do I channel my unique voice in a way that is not inherently power seeking!? What is …who is … how is ... my writing style? I used to quite enjoy the art of wordsmithing - some have even said I was “good” - whatever that means. Now, it feels draining. This is an attempt, for the first time in a while, to free write for no other purpose that to better understand myself and how to write freely again:

Having allowed my defensive ego to cool down, I realize that, although I have lost whatever edge I may have at some point convinced others of having, i can sharpen. Rather than insist that academic writing is “not my thing” or only very loosely tied to my end goals, less relevant to my passion and purpose than other technical skills ... I can find my own style and use. I can hone in on feedback, all the while taking each piece with gratitude and a grain of soft pink salt.

Only I, after all, have access to the ideas within the confines of my meninges. It is within my power, and mine only, to convey my individualized worldview to others. This act in and of itself feels heartbreakingly hedonistic … hence the walls I have built, further alienating my queer thought processes. However, if I can get over that philosophical haphazard for the time being and embrace that I can be worthy (!?) - I might have something useful to say - after all, who are we not to? … Then perhaps I might find a position … albeit within a society that I tend to oppose … that brings rest to my unease.

What is fulfillment? Forty two.

Many who know me would argue that I have no qualms in stating my beliefs. But those who have taken the time to know me deeply, understand that I do not make claims rigidly. I am open to criticism. I crave questioning. I desire to deepen the process and challenge my own standpoints. In this sense, my claims are wishy-washy. Perhaps I have a hard time stating claims because I feel as though my opinions are … ultimately meaningless. What do I know? Who am I but a fool? So - try harder? Know more? Be the expert? Yet again, I hit the stumbling block of ontological limitations. WHO AM I !? WHO ARE EXPERTS!? We are all foolish, no matter how hard we fight to prove otherwise.

Put these criticisms away. Realize that, in this reality, we need people to deeply understand the material world and our interactions with it. Focus on sharing those important concepts with nonexperts. Know your context. Know your neighbors. Worry not about your own claims … that may come with time. You are nowhere near an expert. But striving to become one is not the end of the world if there is a benefit for others. It’s going to be you … or someone else, in the end. Now stop wasting time. And do something with your voice.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Saint Andrews, Scotland

I reckon (with a British accent, not a hilljack's) it's about time I start updating this thinger again. Now is good a time as ever seeing how I just stumbled upon the room of my dreams! A study library. Small but a tall ceiling and windows overlooking the sea. Quiet with a sense of calm diligence. Perhaps finally I will make a successful start to my capstone thesis.

The past three weeks have been relatively uneventful but here is a short, sweet recap of the most memorable:

1. Ate too many gummy snakes at a punch party and danced with an inflatable flamingo.
2. Found a bridge behind our housing complex.
3. Ate fish and chips!
4. Picked rosemary from a giant bush growing from an abandoned hospital.
5. Bought a thrift store dress from a hobbit.
6. Drank cider on the beach and wandered aimlessly, discovering town.
7. Swam in the North Sea.
8. Napped under a Greenpeace van.
9. Danced my ass off to bagpipe jams.


Straight across ancient window holes, through which peak the grey brick facade of times long-past, I bear witness to a most vivid rainbow and crashing of sea birds into waves below.

It is starting to get VERY windy here. Winter will be brutal. But the dark clouds pass by like sails and the windy wisps kiss the sea so slightly, shadows dancing on the surface.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

At Home in Cambodia

Hello, blog. It’s been a while. The streets of Pursat and stone halls of Angkor have stolen my attention; please forgive me, I am here now and ready to divulge.
The city of Pursat is a pleasant middle-ground somewhere between the chaotic monstrosities of tourist town Ayutthaya, DISGUSTINGLY URBAN, unorganized Bangkok, “tuk-tuk, lady?” Phnom Penh and the many humble villages spread out along the national highway which we passed through to get here. More bicycles than previous cities, but motorbikes are still the popular mode of transportation. “You want to walk?” I’ve been questioned many times.  Yes. The entire long, straight, day-lit kilometer. I must challenge myself to conquer! It’s as if I told them "I want to eat bugs." Oh, wait …
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This monster grasshopper was quite delicious


Walking seems unheard of here, even in the small city setting. Pedestrians definitely do not have the right of way.
But I’ve really begun to feel at home here. My host family is wonderful. I’m house stay number 27! They speak little English but we make do without, especially when we come together to eat because talk turns to “Eat, eat!” But my host mother, Sychhen, is an excellent cook. Rice still sounds good to me even after eating it 2-3 times a day for 3.5 weeks now. This weekend I will take a trip to the market with her to pick out ingredients and help cook.
Everywhere in town shuts down between 12-2 for lunch. Siesta is great! Just to be away from your place of stress and at home for a couple of hours is revitalizing. Problem is, if you lay down for a nap you never want to go back to work. And if you can’t get anything done in town because everywhere is open at the exact same times; housewives must be great! (Kidding!) But 20 minutes was enough for a lightning fast REM, maybe enough to keep me awake past 9:00 tonight.
Pauli, the house baby, is starting to like me. He is for real the cutest little guy I have ever seen. And maybe the first baby I’ve felt a connection with. Surrounded by non- English speakers, I’m learning to communicate without words. It’s nice to find a deeper, non-verbal connection. So a non-speaking child seems not so far from the folks I’ve been surrounded by and his intuitive responses and non-verbal cues seem to make much more sense to me now.
PS I need a grammar lesson and tutoring on semi-colons. (Ahem, Chelsea Rose)
I do need to keep in mind, however, that not speaking English does not deem one illiterate. I should speak slowly and reiterate but not as if I am speaking to a child. Patience is a virtue and tolerance is key.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Spoke too Soon? ... Nah

So, last night arriving from the airport through backroads in the late evening, I was fooled into thinking Phnom Penh was a bit less hectic than Thailand. WRONG! The street my temporary hostel is on is quiet and quaint and the hosts are the kindest people I think I have ever met. But, the city overall is super busy and crowded. I can officially support the stereotype that Asians CANNOT drive. Yeesh. But, I am told that I will love Pursat, which is much more rural, remote, and quiet. Phew. I can't handle city-living for long. It has really put the notion of overpopulation in my face, impossible to ignore ... scarey.

There is a seemingly more distinct culture here and more modesty so far. Buddhism is more prominent I think. It has been getting dark around 6pm and then everything sort of shuts down and people go into evening relaxation mode ... I dig. I also very much dig the insistance upon shoelessness everywhere. Plus, delicious fruits! I had a paw-paw-esk commodity called 'milkfruit' today and tried jackfruit for the first time. It's like a banana/pineapple combo.

Riels are wierd to get accustomed to; $1 = $4,000 riels ... not used to paying 15,000 of anything for lunch. They do accept American dollars ... way easier on my brain, good knowledge for the future.

I have a welcome dinner tomorrow then one more night in Phnom Penh before heading to my permanent home-stay accomodation in Pursat. I will be living with a family of 6 women and three other interns will be living with the family as well; Nadia from Switzerland, Katherine from Australia (95% of the 15+ish volunteers at orientation today were Aussies) and some guy we have yet to meet.

Tomorrow should be good. Oh! And I just had the most amazing fish curry!! I am going to come home with lots of recipie ideas so, look out; My taste has taken a drastic turn of preference towards spicey.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Last Hours in Thailand (for now)

So I am back at Khauson Road at good old Coffee World preparing for my short flight over the pond to Cambodia. Eek! I'm very excited and looking forward to a bit of a change. I am hoping for less commotion and a more rural setting.


The coming of dawn from my beach bed

Friday night, I spontaneously decided to hit the beach. So I packed up all of my belongings and took an hour-long bus ride to Bangkok, 2 hour long ride to SriRacha, and a short ferry trip to Co Sichang Island. It was dark when I got in and all I saw was fishing boats galore. I was worried that in the daylight I would be thoroughly disappointed by brown brackish waters polluted by such heavy activity. So I slept in the sand (and interesting experience I will elaborate on later) and when I woke, daybreak lit the ocean and it could not have been more beautiful. I was very much craving some salty swimming and got my fix!




Not quite justice served



Then, I got the brilliant idea to hike to the top of a nearby mountain! I could see a protruding rock lookout and wanted nothing but to be there. After a short while of intense bushwhacking and fire ants and snake skins ... I have never wanted to be out of the woods more in my life.

I was still determined to get the the lookout even if I couldn't hike to the top of the mountain so I swam there. Through the waves and deep I realized that tide was just barely too low for my to hoist myself out onto any of the rocks. A bit depressing but, hey, at least I tried. It was an adventure for sure and that's really all I wanted.

Oh yeah, and to all of you old, fat, white tourists our there ... why insist on SPEEDOS!! I guess it's the "I don't give a damn" vacation attitude and, you know, they deserve some sunned thighs too. Go for it, Tiger. More power to ya.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Bangkok:

A twisting concoction of roads with no apparent organization. None of the payphones work. Children walk the street in search of customers to sell flowers and handicrafts to as legless men tug my pants for change. The whole experience draws both pity and inspiration.

Carmella, Isabelle and I took a trip Saturday morning via bus to Bangkok where we met up with their friend who just departed Nepal from a treking expedition.


Bangkok Tuk-tuk ride

 Khausan Street, a local hotspot for backpackers, was like a fairyland as we turned off of the typical Bangkok street of Thais and urbanization and overall unknown. Suddenly, everyone was white. And hippies. And drunk. A fun time ensued.


Khauson Road

At 5:40 in the morning, as I initially wrote this, the street was still lively as ever. A white haired thai man danced enthusiastically through the window in front of me, for example. Street vendors sold delicious food and beer was served from curbside coolers 24/7. Music bled from abundant speakers morning, noon, and night. Even Sunday. The epitome of a party lifestyle. Damn Europeans.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

"The Spot"

So I just got back from a lovely bike ride around Ayutthya with some fellow yanks, Isabel and Carmella; thankfully it didn't take too long to aclimate to the left-side driving, just have to watch out for speeding elephants.



Now we are sitting in a golden coffee shop that we found yesterday, sipping blueberry-cantelope milk shakes and talking life. This place has officially become "the spot". It's very comforting and reminds me of home (plus, free wifi).
Buddhist Temple in Ayutthaya



 
Stray dogs
pushy hounds
smiling nods
"pretty ladies"
whirring bikes
i can't read anything!



The English teacher we met today was at about at level 1 English level. Apparently all teachers here study pshycology in University, not their subject matter. 1/10 school personnel I met today spoke (shakey) English and the program is a bit spontaneous and random but the kids are crazy about white people. They didn't stop waving to us the entire 15 minutes we were standing in the hallway and giggled like mad if we said hello. Hopefully their enthusiasm will stay strong for learning English.

Tomorrow we will find a nice Thai restaraunt for Thanksgiving then Bangkok this weekend.