Thursday, January 13, 2005
Dear friend,
The melancholiness wafting through the air makes me believe that rain is more than precipitation.
Why does rain make people feel down? The grey sky, the cold... Even the touch of raindrops. But there's no real reason to be so.
The Hong Kong saunters move morbidly slow, leaving one to ponder why such skinny pedestrians take up so much street space. But I am no longer exasperated at the geriatric shuffle. I just accept that they are slow and they enjoy their walks (perhaps even secretly enjoying the frustration of others). The children are sweet as they weave energetically through the crowd. How did they ever get so adorable?
Vendor after vendor, I cannot find the magazine I am looking for. I will have to go to a more expat-concentrated district for such luxury. Chinese Newsweek, Asian tabloids, pornography, and comic books are wrapped in vinyl to avoid getting moist.
After walking 6 blocks, I am already near my apartment. I buy an Asian-style pizza at the bakery and trudge up the hill. After recovering my breath, I sit down to watch Oprah and drink soy milk. The pizza reminds me of something... I know, it's my mother's potato salad. They put mayo on almost all baked goods here - the combination seems almost revolting. The Oprah show focused on child abuse today. A mother who was raped and inpregnated by her father. And her daughter (who has the same father as her mother) comes forth to tell their tale.
It leaves me feeling sick and a little helpless.
I am reminded that I need to renew my library books - which I will do online with my HK ID card. Just punch in my ID number, last 4-digits of my phone number... and vowala, renew book for another 2 weeks. Only takes 1 minute and saves me from fines. Sometimes, I think Hong Kong has the most superior infrastructure and city planning in Asia (with Singapore being a very close rival. But Japan's inefficiencies and shortcomings are very obvious to me).
The rest of my week will be spent making speeches, recounting what happened in Thailand to the AIESEC audience. It leaves me with a mixed feeling, now that it has been so long and I begin to question how the aid money is being used in the tsunami-affected countries.
Everybody has been nice, but they don't understand. They don't really want to understand. 'It wasn't your time.' 'You were meant to stay and do more.' 'God has his ways.' The only time I let my anger show was when a colleague said 'You know, these things happen so that the world can get rid of excess population. It's nature's way.' I would have punched him if I wasn't so furious and my head was throbbing so much. I am tormented by the video clips and curious spectators who want to show me these clips. I kill my feelings until they are bludgeoned by numbness.
I am waiting for someone to listen to me, so I can emote and move on. I'm too stubborn to let my anguish show, but I can't hold it in any longer without self-destruction. Please come back soon. Just give me 2 hours of your time, and I'll buy you as many caffe lattes as you want. Thanks, babe...
Sometimes being a nomad means taking risks of being away from basic source of comfort. I am lucky to find solace here so I can get back on my feet again.
Why does rain make people feel down? The grey sky, the cold... Even the touch of raindrops. But there's no real reason to be so.
The Hong Kong saunters move morbidly slow, leaving one to ponder why such skinny pedestrians take up so much street space. But I am no longer exasperated at the geriatric shuffle. I just accept that they are slow and they enjoy their walks (perhaps even secretly enjoying the frustration of others). The children are sweet as they weave energetically through the crowd. How did they ever get so adorable?
Vendor after vendor, I cannot find the magazine I am looking for. I will have to go to a more expat-concentrated district for such luxury. Chinese Newsweek, Asian tabloids, pornography, and comic books are wrapped in vinyl to avoid getting moist.
After walking 6 blocks, I am already near my apartment. I buy an Asian-style pizza at the bakery and trudge up the hill. After recovering my breath, I sit down to watch Oprah and drink soy milk. The pizza reminds me of something... I know, it's my mother's potato salad. They put mayo on almost all baked goods here - the combination seems almost revolting. The Oprah show focused on child abuse today. A mother who was raped and inpregnated by her father. And her daughter (who has the same father as her mother) comes forth to tell their tale.
It leaves me feeling sick and a little helpless.
I am reminded that I need to renew my library books - which I will do online with my HK ID card. Just punch in my ID number, last 4-digits of my phone number... and vowala, renew book for another 2 weeks. Only takes 1 minute and saves me from fines. Sometimes, I think Hong Kong has the most superior infrastructure and city planning in Asia (with Singapore being a very close rival. But Japan's inefficiencies and shortcomings are very obvious to me).
The rest of my week will be spent making speeches, recounting what happened in Thailand to the AIESEC audience. It leaves me with a mixed feeling, now that it has been so long and I begin to question how the aid money is being used in the tsunami-affected countries.
Everybody has been nice, but they don't understand. They don't really want to understand. 'It wasn't your time.' 'You were meant to stay and do more.' 'God has his ways.' The only time I let my anger show was when a colleague said 'You know, these things happen so that the world can get rid of excess population. It's nature's way.' I would have punched him if I wasn't so furious and my head was throbbing so much. I am tormented by the video clips and curious spectators who want to show me these clips. I kill my feelings until they are bludgeoned by numbness.
I am waiting for someone to listen to me, so I can emote and move on. I'm too stubborn to let my anguish show, but I can't hold it in any longer without self-destruction. Please come back soon. Just give me 2 hours of your time, and I'll buy you as many caffe lattes as you want. Thanks, babe...
Sometimes being a nomad means taking risks of being away from basic source of comfort. I am lucky to find solace here so I can get back on my feet again.
// posted by sakit @ 1:13 AM 
Comments:
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Beb, being a nomad is all about leaving things behind; it's about having left your comfort zone so far behind that you can't even see it; and trading the comforts of stability for the challenge of new horizons.
Anyone who tries to tell you life is an easy ride is trying to sell you something. Like a rickshaw ride! You like? I give you very good price!
Eventually you will realize that people will never be able to identify that all you have experienced, all you feel, and all you dream about, perhaps you will find solace in Tyutchev's "Silentium." If that doens't work, find solace in a beer. :)
Anyone who tries to tell you life is an easy ride is trying to sell you something. Like a rickshaw ride! You like? I give you very good price!
Eventually you will realize that people will never be able to identify that all you have experienced, all you feel, and all you dream about, perhaps you will find solace in Tyutchev's "Silentium." If that doens't work, find solace in a beer. :)
Aie to that captain. Three days, three continents. I have never felt so disoriented in my life.
"Eventually you will realize that people will never be able to identify that all you have experienced, all you feel, and all you dream about".
You couldn't have described better what I am currently feeling. Post-travel blues. I accidentally blurt out pidgin every now and then and realise that no one follows. I need to read this book, but first a beer.
"Eventually you will realize that people will never be able to identify that all you have experienced, all you feel, and all you dream about".
You couldn't have described better what I am currently feeling. Post-travel blues. I accidentally blurt out pidgin every now and then and realise that no one follows. I need to read this book, but first a beer.
nomadicism is all about exposing you to what is really happening in the world ... i know the feeling of returning (or entering) an environment, a society, a group, where everything has always been like it is in that moment: you come, you see, you ask, you question, you compare, you express your impressions ... and people don't understand. not because they don't want to, but because they cannot.
it's hard, but it's exciting. because you know the other side of the story, of reality. or maybe you even know a completely different story.
the only solution is to experience more of this quality. different stories, new stories ... nomadicism is not a one-time-only event. once you start, it never stops ... that's the hardest thing.
i suggest that you don't search too much for a meaning or a message in what you have experienced, but search for the feeling that you had or that came from it. if the feeling is good, try to replicate it. if it is bad, wrap it in yesterday's newspaper, put it in the bin and never look at it again.
it's hard, but it's exciting. because you know the other side of the story, of reality. or maybe you even know a completely different story.
the only solution is to experience more of this quality. different stories, new stories ... nomadicism is not a one-time-only event. once you start, it never stops ... that's the hardest thing.
i suggest that you don't search too much for a meaning or a message in what you have experienced, but search for the feeling that you had or that came from it. if the feeling is good, try to replicate it. if it is bad, wrap it in yesterday's newspaper, put it in the bin and never look at it again.
Recently after tea, a friend and I went out for a walk, past a little orchard heavy with apples and on up the hill overlooking the city, the friendly malamutes gamboling around us. As we walked, my friend told me something about life: "The definition of life is the intertwining of choices".
Analogous problems may arise, on occasion, do to nature. But, in general everyone’s life is interconnected. In life people leave and die.
I like to thing of the world as one big airport terminal. We hug and say goodbye, and we start to head our separate ways. We turn to watch our friends, family, and strangers go. They walk onto their plane, taxis onto the main runway, and takeoff, fast, with a tailwind following. We watch them for a while, and then they are gone. The uncertainty remains.
Analogous problems may arise, on occasion, do to nature. But, in general everyone’s life is interconnected. In life people leave and die.
I like to thing of the world as one big airport terminal. We hug and say goodbye, and we start to head our separate ways. We turn to watch our friends, family, and strangers go. They walk onto their plane, taxis onto the main runway, and takeoff, fast, with a tailwind following. We watch them for a while, and then they are gone. The uncertainty remains.
# posted by 
: 10:10 AM
: 10:10 AM
Wow... the responses are coming in.
Well, I have no regrets. It's just not in my program. I don't expect anything from anybody either - it's also not a part of my religion. (and the egoistic me believes only in one religion: me :)
But there are some basic things people need at vulnerable times - it's just human. I'm just sayin'... being a nomad has the risks - and we all seem to understand that. We equally have ways to create new avenues and friendships, finding an oasis to nurse the wounds. And then... move on.
"Haisui no Jin" - a Japanese idiom translated: "Your fort is backed by a body of water - the only way to go is forward." A term that the warlords used to tell his men that there's no turning back.
With that said... I want to move on with my life too - there's no rewind button or flipping of "what if" adventure books in life.
There's an invisible ball and chain that I'm struggling to free myself from and I'll be glad to Houdini out of it any day now. Okay, I won't whine any more about this. Concentrating on more productive thoughts.
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Well, I have no regrets. It's just not in my program. I don't expect anything from anybody either - it's also not a part of my religion. (and the egoistic me believes only in one religion: me :)
But there are some basic things people need at vulnerable times - it's just human. I'm just sayin'... being a nomad has the risks - and we all seem to understand that. We equally have ways to create new avenues and friendships, finding an oasis to nurse the wounds. And then... move on.
"Haisui no Jin" - a Japanese idiom translated: "Your fort is backed by a body of water - the only way to go is forward." A term that the warlords used to tell his men that there's no turning back.
With that said... I want to move on with my life too - there's no rewind button or flipping of "what if" adventure books in life.
There's an invisible ball and chain that I'm struggling to free myself from and I'll be glad to Houdini out of it any day now. Okay, I won't whine any more about this. Concentrating on more productive thoughts.
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