BKK, last time

BKK, last time

What is this,
The fifth or sixth time at the Bangkok airport on this trip
Absolutely crazy this trip
The toll it has taken
I tell myself, if only I had headed back
After the Annapurna Circuit
Fly to Bangkok and then a week of detox in \Kosamui
That’s the ticket,
Would have even been able to catch a flight home
But no—
I had to go to Chiang Mai and mess around up there, \
And almost get caught in a revolution,
And then to Japan,
And then back
Absolutely Fucking Crazy

Out of Shape

I was up early and running this morning in Kawagoe. Have been running every day that it has not rained. Can't believe how out of shape I am. Or rather, of course I can believe it. I actually thought all that hiking in Nepal might have done something, and perhaps if as planned I'd gone down to Ko Samui to clean myself out, well, I might have actually have been in pretty good condition. Now I am in terrible shape and I never feel good like this. Last year, one of the things that inspired me was reading a book by a well-known Japanese writer and his twenty year long love affair with running. It inspired me to get back and shape and even run two marathons last year. The one thing that might hold me back from going to China in the fall is the inability to train. Wherever I settle, it will have to be a place that is a good place to run: clean air, good trails. I just don't see how in the near term my life shapes up to be consistent with this.

Salty Bread Blues

A cloudy day in Kawagoe, where I have been stuck since Monday due to the fact that a plane from Tokyo to Atlanta was cancelled, thus stranding a bunch of passengers and filling up all the standby seats for the foreseeable future. I did not put up too much of a protest about the whole situation because I am not in any hurry to get back to the States. In any case, right now, staying at my friend's house, I am reminded how for the past year and for the forseeable future my situation will be one of "salty bread." This, of course, is the situation Dante found himself in when he was exiled from Florence--never to return. Whereas the Florentines (or whatever the hell it is you call people from Florence) were used to having bread without salt, in exile Dante found himself compelled to eat salty bread.

"You shall leave everything you love most. . . . You are to know the bitter taste of others' bread, how salty it is, and know how hard a path it is for one who goes ascending and descending others' stairs" (Paradiso, XVII, 55-60).

I don't know when, or if, I will have my own home again.

Reflections on a Saturday morning

No particular reason to write this morning and nothing much to say. No revelations about what to do next. I've been spending an inordinat amount of time on the computer, most of trying to write up a couple of things. But I have been making increcibly slow progress. Also, my Chinese study has almost come to a complete stop. It is difficult to study when travelling, especially so when you are in a country that is not the language you are studying. But I've started up with Chinese Pod again and hope to get back in the groove (although not to make any real progress).

The burning question I think was raised by the Thomas Moore book I read a while ago. The issue is not so much what you will do but who you will be, for who you will be will determine what you will do. Are you going to devote yourself to writing and squeek by on the savings you have and odd jobs you can pick up? Do you want to go become a social worker? a chef? Do you want to try to make a living doing teaching gigs every now and then? Do you want to go into another line of work? These are the questions that must be answered before any definitive path is taken.

I just don't see how I can stay in Tucson for the summer. Am thinking about maybe hanging out there for a month and then taking off for an extended road trip when I have to go and give the paper in late June. Either camping around the country, or perhaps working at Yellowstone or volunteering at the Shamhala Center. It's all pretty tentative.

Some Things I Miss

1. My bed. Right now I am sleeping an an approximately 3/4 futon on a matted floor--and it may be the most comfortable bed I've had in a while. My last year in Utah I slept on a fold out bed. Before that, for two years in China I slept on, well, it wasn't pleasant, let me say that. I used to love my bed.
2. Being able to cook. Instead, for the past year it has either been going out to eat out or eating what is given. Neither of these have been particularly conducive to my health.
3. Regular running
4. A bathtub
5. Buying large sizes of soap, detergent, toothpaste. Sick of buying small sizes of everything.

Long, strange trip

At the end of the journey, one looks back and wonders what is has been about. And so I search for meanings from this most recent excursion, but I am afraid I can find none. It simply was an expenditure of time, money and energy--all three in short supply. It's like I always say: generally speaking, the trip you have is the trip you plan. This is true in life and in travel. So for me, it was just meaningless movement in space and time. I mean, if Iwas going to study Chinese, then I should have stayed in China and studied Chinese. To do so for a month was foolish, and I felt this fact every time I had to explain to someone what I was doing. If I wanted to travel, then I should have travelled, and come up with some itinerary and plan for travel. The thing is, I have no idea how much money I spent, but I know it was much, much more than I either had planned or could afford. All this could have been avoided had the Peace Corps come through on their oringal timing for the mission in Indonsia. But between that falling apart and the book publication date changing, well, things went all to hell, and I didn't adapt very well. So now I find myself returning to the States with no clue as to what my next move will be. I'm too broke to travel, I can't stay in Arizona and there is no where else for me to go. I am truly out of options.

Stumped and Exhausted

Well, I have been sitting in Chiang Mai, Thailand for the past two weeks, awiating word about a summer position I applied for with the Peace Corps. I recently discovered that I did not get the position. I was actually a bit surprised, because I thought I was very qualified for the position. Perhaps overqualified. As Michael Keaton said in Nightshift, "I was too good." That is at least what I tell myself. Now, I must decide on my next move. I will leave Chiang Mai in a few days and visit my friend in Japan and then return to the States. And then, I don't know. I really overexpended my psychic and financial resources on this trip. But I can't just sit around on my return and do nothing. I am considering returning to China for a year to work on my next project, but sometimes I think I could just as easily blow that off. So for the present, I am stumped

Nepal Pictures and Journal

Nepal Pictures and Journal at http://peterinepal.shutterfly.com/