Thai/Tie Pun II: El(i)es and Wats' Wat

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This is the fourth and final entry of journal "highlights"--here is the first entry, the second entry, and the third entry (which was the first half of my time in Thailand). These are excerpts from what I wrote while I was in or around Chiang Mai and Cambodia. Hereafter, I promise my blog's contents will shift from personal journal regurgitation.

Eyes of the ele

***

01/28

I slept terribly last night; I woke repeatedly to mosquitoes biting my face. At least they weren't bed bugs.

Our cubby in our train car sleeps four passengers. Coincidentally, I bump into a fellow alum from my childhood summer camp--he sleeps two-cubbies-down.

01/29

"Good morneen," the car manager calls as she walks the aisle. "Brekfest fifteen minoots."

I slide open my lower berth's curtains. The air-con reasserts its unforgettable presence without the poor shield that was the curtain; I've been freezing for the nearly nine hours of Benadryl-clouded sleep. At some point in the night, I wake to put on my flannel; the cotton blanket does not match the pillow in comfort-level. 

While eating my rice soup with chicken, I join our cubby's roommates (a body-odor-plagued French couple) in watching the hills covered in tropical forest--not quite rainforest. We rumble past a pineapple orchard, and I wonder if I'm not stationary while everything crashes past.

Thai/Tie Pun.

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This is the second entry of journal "highlights"--here is the first entry and the second entry. These are excerpts from what I wrote while I was in Thailand's south and Bangkok. More soon, friends and family!

Thai style

***
 
01/17
 
I watch the sunset beyond the backside of the wings. Because of visa restrictions and unexpected inquiries at the ticket desk in Hawaii, I'm not even sure that I can enter Thailand without an onward ticket--I just have the plan to walk across the border to Cambodia.

After reading last year's journal entries, I begin a line of questioning about my direction and my context. I come to a conclusion that I do not feel lost, but I am certainly not feeling as engaged in my daily life as I would like to be.

Practice Mahalo

After a two month hiatus from blogging, I am returning with recollections--recollections of the two month hiatus from blogging. I do not feel like my vacation was a "whirlwind" or that it "flew by." Actually, eight weeks of vacation feels exactly like eight weeks of vacation when entire weeks are defined by a specific activity, reunions, and locations. This is the second entry of journal "highlights"--here is the first entry. These are excerpts from what I wrote while I was in Hawaii. More soon, friends and family!

Waving

01/06

I woke up about 24-hours-ago, but not a minute has moved on the clock. As the airport P.A. says, "Mahalo for your cooperation," I indulge a hot cup of $2 Starbucks and an invigorating second chance on the day. I'm excited to be surrounded by diversity and English; adrenaline and caffeine will need to power me through the remaining twelve-to-fourteen hours of the day. I took a two-hour nap on the plane, but I couldn't sleep more (despite hitting international coach jackpot with an empty row).

There are no knock-off "Beats by Dre" headphones.

Women bare skin while reading a newspaper on an outdoor bench in a garden in the middle of the airport.

Golf clubs spill onto the baggage claim belt.

*

The first drive after six months was refreshing: the azure gleam of the ocean, humpback whales spouting, sheer cliff-faces, coves, slow speed limits, and lowered windows.

Fish tacos.

Clouds billow into the West Maui crater as if they were volcano plume billowing out. Palm fronds whisper softly in the breeze.

As my eyelids start to feel heavy at just 2 pm, I check into the condo my family has rented for the week. A cleaner is there, so I leave for a quiet cup of iced coffee.

So many board shorts.

***

"Same Dream China"

In the "Same Dream China" series of posts, I will reflect on recent dreams that I think provide some answer to the questions about "how I'm doing." The title of this series ("Same Dream China") is liberally borrowed from the wonderful Gold Panda track to which I often listen whilst walking and pondering along the streets and trails of China.

*


I find myself back in Donsol, Philippines. Specifically, I am in the middle of the dive that I enjoyed last winter break. It is a drift dive, which means that a heavy current pushes the divers in such a way that they need not swim--and should not resist the current for risk of exhaustion. This particular drift dive is remarkably strong since the Pacific tides are sweeping into a narrow strait between two islands. The current is so strong that divers are required to use hooks and leashes to tether to the ocean floor. I remember surfacing with rope burn on my wrists, where I was tethered to the leash.

Anyways, I am floating rapidly in the current. I do not have a tank, but I can breathe. Wildlife also is pushed helplessly in the current: leopard sharks, octopi, eels, and other schools of small fish. Anemones dance on the reefs. The visibility (water clarity) is astounding. I breathe calmly, but aware of the fact that this is not a natural setting--that I should experience stress and discomfort.


I do not feel panicked about lacking a tank, about lacking a leash, about being helpless to the push of the Pacific's current.

Sights and Sounds of Tai ji

After two weeks of study (thirty hours per week), I have learned the base eighteen movements of Chen-style tai ji. N.B. I am far from mastering these movements.

I am still amazed at how exhausting the subtle movements of shifting one's hips and rotating ones arms can be. The martial art form does not require any particular level of athleticism, but daily practice definitely guarantees some weight-loss (through sweat) and increased upper leg strength. Each movement requires only a slight knee-bend, but each movement requires firm rooting in the ground. Surprisingly, this rooting derives in comfortably sitting into one's hips and letting the hips begin each movement. At first, pronating and suppinating through hip movements seems counter-intuitive; eventually, one learns how to bend their elbows using their hips. At least, one supposedly learns this. As one of my fellow students pointed-out (in one of the more appropriate but obscure references I have ever heard), learning tai ji makes one feel like their doing the awkward jolts and jitters from Jamie Lee Curtis's strip tease in True Lies (see below for more details).

Waterbending (see below for details)

That's a video of my master （师傅, shifu) singing my favorite Chinese country song; the lyrics are something to the effect of: "Singing a song,/ I am on this side,/ the river is on that side..." It is a particularly popular song in Yangshuo, where there is an overdone light show involving hundreds of actors on boats and featuring the song as part of a love story between a village girl and a fisherman.

That video is of me doing the base eighteen movements with my master. I am sure you will see as many flaws in my form and postures as I do. Here is a clip of Jamie Lee's dance (the clip is only relevant to the point between 3:08 and 3:17, outside of that I cannot "speak" to the remainder of the clip): compare as you see fit. And after that, some vintage waterbending from one of my favorite TV shows ever.

Yin and Yang(shuo)

View from my second story porch swing

After a brief lay-over in Hong Kong (with the purpose of procuring a tourist visa for the summer), I took a sleeper bus to Yángshuò(阳朔). Known for it's karst mountains, 阳朔 is as beautiful and invigorating as stories make-it-out to be. The tropical spring weather of South China is on the brink of bursting into unbearable summer heat, but I still get afternoon rains that cool the air and make for peaceful sunsets over either of the two rivers that come through the county. While 阳朔 town has become quite the tourists' mecca over the past few years (and thus has plenty of bars, cafes, and restaurants to cater to Westerners), I am stationed in a valley about four kilometers from the town. I am studying tai ji at Long Tou Shan ("Dragon's Head Mountain") School in a small village. It is generally very quiet with minimal traffic, the occassional tourist cyclist, and a lot of frogs croaking at dusk.

Bo-oh-rneo: The Right Stuff

Mes amis! I have returned to technological society from another peaceful foray into off-the-grid living. Much has shifted in my mindset since I wrote my last post, and I have returned from five weeks of vacation (Chinese New Year: 新年快乐) with a relaxed and optimistic mindset.

As per my usual laziness and my routine risk of exploding with thought-peristalsis upon returning from vacations, I will be composing this post and the next (about the Philippines) mostly from excerpts from my [new, leather-bound] journal--thanks Mom and Papa. Prior to quoting myself (i.e. "tooting my own horn"), here is an adjusted itinerary from my original plan:

01/07-09: Kuala Lumpur
01/09-13: Kuching and Batang Lemanak (Sarawak, Borneo)
01/13-16: Bintulu and Similajau National Park (Sarawak, Borneo)
01/16-18: Niah National Park (Sarawak, Borneo)
01/18-20: Miri, Kota Kinabalu (Sarawak and Sabah, Borneo)
01/20- 23: Pulau Mabul (Sabah, Borneo)
01/23-26: Semporna, Kota Kinabalu (Sabah, Borneo)
01/26-27: Manila (Philippines)
01/27-01/31: Sabang, Roxas (Philippines)
01/31-02/05: Borocay (Philippines)
02/05-07: Roxas--Capiz (Philippines)
02/07-12: Masbate, Donsol, Legazpi, Manila (Philippines)

I read eight books and saw way too many low-grade movies during that time. Here are some more thoughts.

01/07:

With my head in my hand, I still don't feel the relief of vacation. Something inside me balks as though I would wake-up tomorrow to be back at the start of today--like a Groundhog Day loop of surreal zeal and distanced hesitation.
*
I'm starting this year, this trip, and this journal as an exhausted version of myself. I'm tired of planning this holiday...of the isolation and alienation I experience at school...of planning my "next step" with only one application submitted for next year...of social stress. The vibrations from vehicular motion lure me into slumber

Proper Refractions

H and City God Temple in Shanghai

Having my sister visit was delightful. Before she even left, I started missing her.

Prior to her visit, I was aware that her visit would be a measuring-stick by which I could assess how much I had learned in China and by which I could understand how much I had personally changed in the past five months. This being her first time in China, she was like a babe in the woods--I, the guiding hand with a torch that often flickered yet never totally extinguished.

I knew she would be such a measuring-stick because she is a constant in my life and because she knows the basic elements and incidents that have contributed to my identity: She could offer insight and observations based on her own knowledge (and her representation of) my essential common denominator that is my identity.

Though I was aware that her visit would allow for some personal analysis, I was not ready for how intense my self-reflection would be--"the difference between knowing and feeling" being one of our ongoing conversations. As I watched H face certain endemically China-challenges I have long since taken for granted, I slowly awoke to all the coping and self-protecting mental mechanisms I have established over the past months.

R-E-G-R-E-T, find out what it means to me.

I have been thinking a lot about decision making. The years immediately following undergraduate education have the potential to be a no-man's-land in a battle between embracing youth (and it's potential) and pursuing direction. This transitional space is rife with landmines and barbed wire that are otherwise referred to as "major life decisions." Some dodge the battlefield--blindly realizing that this, in and of itself, is a decision in regards to how to handle one's own life (i.e. procrastination and denial). I know others who look to maneuver around obstacles; and I know others who will do whatever it takes to steadfastly embrace youthful pursuits or to devotedly labor at the "next step."

Bear, motorcycle, high wire, laurel, streamers. This happens

As a friend asks me for my thoughts on applying to the Peace Corps and another asks me for my opinion about teaching in a struggling community, I relay the questions that I have had to ask myself in regards to both of these pursuits that have been passions at some point in my recent past.


As a friend asks me for my thoughts on moving in with his significant other and another friend asks me for my opinion about committing to a year abroad with her significant other, I obviously reflect on my decisions in regards to my former relationship with both those features.

And as I ask my friends for their thoughts on what their next steps will be or for their opinions about what they have learned from their own experiences in whatever they have done  in the past year, I find myself questioning how I make decisions and how I regard decisions I have made in the past year-or-so--which is a rather appropriate act for this resolution-making time of the year.

Accidental Personal Statement?

Much of the romance about exploration and connection relies on stripping away layers (like those of an Onion, mayhaps) to reveal mysteries beyond. What happens once those mysteries lose their undisclosed quality through revealing? What happens to the layers that have been stripped?

For a few years running, I have prided myself on adamantly believing in the power of human connection: connection with others, connection with environment, and connection with the self. Part of my ethos and part of my passions are to connect as much as possible; thus, I explore  and adventure with intent of learning more about others and their places--geographically and with regards to their sense of identity.

Environment onions:
As we delve deeper into new locales and societies, any past layers are not discarded as much as integrated into our knowledge and experience. What is the specialty of Sichuan province (i.e. food)? One of them is Sichuan greenbeans. With this revelation, I lose the mystery of the question but gain the knowledge of what to order in Chengdu. This is a minor example. This concept, though, is acted out on greater scales with regards to learning about hidden alleys with wonderful street vendors that become integrated into routine after being frequented. Once we start peeling away the layers of our environment and how it functions, we continue to add to a cumulative knowledge. There is no loss but the loss of mystery. I would venture so far as to say truly connecting with one's environment is a spiritual fulfillment. One creates a bond to something that is constantly shifting within certain solid structural (or natural) confines; in the past, I have found that this sort of connection with location is conducive to self-affirmation--in chicken-egg fashion, perhaps the latter facilitates the former. Regardless, peeling away an environmental onion reveals an essence of location, of time, and even of self onions.

Caught-up in "Maybe's"

Maybe I feel lighter.

In lieu of the recent slew of necessary questioning and searching I have conducted, I have spent some [also necessary] time contemplating the Chinese "maybe." Anyone who has held a conversation with a non-Native-English-speaking-Chinese-person knows that their individual uses of the word "maybe" are confounding, seemingly incorrect, and easily mocked. Here are some examples:

Me: There is no-one supervising that classroom and a boy just bit another boy.
Chinese Colleague: Yes. Maybe they are disobedient.

***

Chinese Colleague: Maybe you should come to the flag ceremony at 6 a.m.

***

Chinese Colleague: Maybe the school van will be there at 4:30 p.m. to retrieve you and your friends.
Me: Wait. But they are supposed to be.
Chinese Colleague: Yes. Maybe they will be.
Me: But they are contractually obligated to be there.
Chinese Colleague: Maybe they are obligated by contract. Yes.
Me: But...Um...Maybe.

***

What is to be expected? What is to be expected.

Fish don't tread water.

I would be the first to profess how foolish it is to begin a journey or even to begin most tasks with set expectations of how the journey and/or task will unfold and/or culminate. Without a certain amount of flexibility to the whims and uncontrollable forces of the world (especially in China), failure is a constant potential; disappointment, a guaranteed outcome. I know this.

Unfortunately, I am bearing witness, these days, to how knowing something and experiencing it may be stark differences that leave one questioning one's own ilk. As detailed to many of you at various points, I am enduring some trying times. Whether I am at school and facing indifferent students or abusive colleagues, or whether I am at home and elsewhere attempting to distract myself as methods of licking my recently opened wounds. There is no need to detail these trials any further, but my kind readership should be aware that I experience insecurity and stress no matter where I go and nearly no matter what I do. The stress in my life is inescapable because of how profound it is. I wish I could, as I say to myself, "Take it one thing and/or day at a time."

My Sincerest Apologies

My friends and readers,

I owe you an apology for being so aloof recently. To call my writing sporadic would be generous. While there is no excuse for me shirking my social responsibilities (i.e. retaining domain name and space, keeping in touch with friends and family, etc.), please forgive me in lieu of many stresses and distractions.

Since returning to Denver (see entries on Tumblr), I experienced an undue and illogical pressure to "get my life in order." I have placed the phrase in quotations because that's a phrase I repeated to myself. I was not entirely sure of what "getting my life in order" meant.

I am still not entirely sure of the meaning behind that line. I think there is some sort of implication about financial security, occupational direction, intellectual inclinations, and so on. Many peers probably know what sentiment I'm referencing.

In any case, I felt a certain stagnant solitude having to return to a place I had already spent 18 years (albeit, pleasant and warm years). I had a view of myself being someone needing active and new pursuits in order to be moving forward in personal development and personal exploration.

This impression had compelled me into zeal over a move to Portland, Oregon. Not to discredit this zeal as Portland offered much opportunity and camaraderie in a new and unexplored environ, my emotions misinformed me to the point of myopic expectations of myself, my new digs, and those around me. I did not expect Portland to solve my problems; I expected Portland to offer me some distance from the aforementioned solitude in such a way that I could gain a clarity about my contemporaneous self with regards to my priorities and my passions--ultimately, based on these factors, my pursuits.

Unfortunately, I have spent much of my time in Portland pressuring myself back into this notion of "getting my life in order." This time, the notion has implied more about economic stability so that I would have time and comfort to figure my priorities and my passions. This has been wishful thinking.

I don't think that life allows us these sort of mental breaks from stresses that we all hope will happen once we conquer whatever is bugging us. There is always something to worry about. This is not an original thought, and I am inclined to direct any questions pertaining to the matter to the Woody Allen filmography and/or library.

I have been forcing myself to find a job. Reasonable and not a totally irrational pursuit.

Of course that's reasonable! It's sane. Unfortunately, I have been forcing myself to pursue positions that have little-to-no interest to me and which I know would only elicit misery and self-pity should I work those positions just to pay my bills or pad my account for a later adventure. Still, my lack of success in finding a job after applying to close to 100 positions in just one month...well...it has been demoralizing in the face of my knowledge that it may not actually be a result of personal failure or my own shortcomings. I have felt pretty far down about the process.

But, I am coming to a point of contentedness. Portland has been one of many opportunities. While none of the sub-opportunities of Portland have proven successful, I retain the right to pursue others.

So, a commitment to myself: If I cannot find a position in Portland by the end of this month of aggressive job pursuit, I will admit that Portland is not a sustainable environment for me at this point in my life. I will not rule out Portland for the future. But, I will remember that I am experimenting with the world and exploring myself. Enough bemoaning that which is out of my control (Damn you economy and your filthy out-of-control unemployment rates and highly competitive job application implications!) and time to celebrate this unique moment in life.

Perhaps a visit to my friend Jack to work on developing a tour company in Buenos Aires? Perhaps I will find a program at minimal cost (Or, gadzooks, no cost!) to send me abroad? To send me into a domestic volunteering situation? Perhaps a reunion with my lady friend to enjoy love and collaborative exploration of the world? Perhaps I will find a way to pursue scuba diving in a Spanish speaking country? Sweet sweet options.

I am doing well. I am finding peace of mind with my moment. I am sorry that I have been out-of-touch about myself and my adventures. I vow more connectedness--after all, connectedness is what I have always found to be invigorating and motivating.

Thank you for your understanding; happy new year; and all the best, fellow travelers!

Brief updates on random items:
-Antony and I are working on starting a book club. Our first meeting will be at the end of the month and we will discuss the first half of "100 Years of Solitude." Excelente.
-I am also reading Richard Dowden's impressively insightful book, "Africa." For anyone interested in trying to understand anything about the continent, I highly recommend the book.
-I am reveling in Netflix glory. I've seen all of "30 Rock," the first season of "Lost," and oodles of Netflix Instant films. I will try to be more diligent about my media writing.
-I am interviewing for Princeton in Asia, American Jewish World Service World Partners Fellowship, and various catering positions.
-Enjoying the tunes of Local Natives, Miike Snow, Yeasayer, The xx, and Andrew Bird.
-I just started a Twitter account--feel free to follow.

More importantly, we must all revel in the spice of life.