Loving muh-self

I've remembered my password and I've decided to write. And thank you, for all of ya'll who have been spiritual brothers and sisters, who have as a result of this bond ended up on my mailing list. Everyday, I try to be a genuine human being. But, very often I fail at this task. And who does not; we end up in various situations where we have to pretend, where either a.) we do not know who we truly are (what honesty exists or is for us) or b.) It seems more appropriate to pretend. So, can I accept that I am constantly pretending, while also having the sincere desire to cease pretendin? Ya dig? Can I strive to be wonderful, brilliant, ourself, while also accepting that I am COMPLETELY lost. And maybe being lost is being honest to myself, chewing and digesting that i have made lots of misguided mistakes, and that is part of what my life is, that I'm too young to be wondering about mistakes but its there! Because living is FAR, FAR from orderly, even though we desire it to be so. Something far more complex than a plain yogurt story revolving around ourselves. A love lost, a love gained. Sometimes incredibly painful and debilitating, sometimes awestruck. That is existence (at this moment, for me).


(Above is L. Ron Hubbard, founder of scientology, as Buddha, lovin his self)

Yallah!

Holy Crap,

Tomorrow I'll be heading to Mexico City and from there, back to St. Paul, Minniesoder. This will symbolically mark the completion of a one year journey from St. Paul to San Miguel de Allende, MX, to Bangkok to Khon Kaen Thailand, to Laos, back to Khon Kaen again, to HongKong, Beijing, St. Paul, to San Miguel de Allende and then back to St, Paul. I sure do hope that when I dip my toes and face into the snow, and then make snow angels that it will feel jusssssst right.

I do not know how I wound up here, and everyday this question passes through me in one form or another. I grew up as a poor kid in Jamaica Plain, son of a dad with severe Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and a mom that loved me indescribably. Life through my eyes as a yoot (youth), was a bit odd, upset, and confusing. To make matters more uncomfortable, I often sat on the toilet for over half an hour with bad stomach aches, as I wondered- is there something wrong with the way I go to the bathroom, or me? Later, I'd become allergic to my own cat, who also had stomach problems, and I'd have bouts of one half of my face become clogged- nose stuffed and eye itchy-watery, switching back and forth from left side to ride side like a game of pong.

Before I knew it, I was off to college, pissed off about high school, wanting a change, but expecting nothing more and perhaps absolute ruin. I had searched for something alternative, like a hogwarts, or a retreat to a mountain dojo, but did not trust my internal compass to find such a place. Yet, maybe the stars did align with my soul-magnet; before I knew it, I was sitting in front of the President of the Mathematical Association of America, proving non-dogmatic non falsification-ism, which pointed towards the Buddhist reality of emptiness, next to a red-headed kid from Florida, the apple of his eye, and a rocker from Pakistan that would become my room/soul mates for the next four years.

GOD! College was a strange time for me. Though lifted by the compassion of friends, a Buddhist master, and nourished by the Cafe Mac Curry Bar, I felt so lost like a savant trying to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Each year, I seemed to generate more fear and skepticism of myself. Yet, each day I was also chipping away at these insecurities that seemed to have had been gathered since laying awkwardly and unreassuringly in my mom's womb. Anyways, before I knew it, it was time for study abroad. I was a religious studies major, who had taken years of Chinese, 6 of spanish, headed off to Thailand with the pretenses of becoming ordained and saving forests, but I would also get the opportunity to visit my mom who had moved to Mexico, woah!

So, there I was, suddenly, after living the tranquilo culture of cabs slowly but surely bumping over cobblestones in time with the rhythms of horns and mariachis to the concrete jungle of Bangkok without the address of my hotel. From there it was a blur of fighting corrupt development companies, a revolution, trips to the hospital with cute nurses and club sandwiches, labour-intensive diplomacy, village life (witichiwit chao ban), true/puppy love, and unbearable romance songs sung by thai women with baby powder white skin in a spotlight lamenting the downfall of the great Thai Kingdom on 6 hour bus rides, going... somewhere? Somehow, I made it, back to the blue skies of St. Paul, and to the tranquilo starry nights of San Miguel. Though, most certainly not speaking or seeing as the same I that had begun this trip- when was it again, that it all began?

Now as I begin my final semester, I know less than ever, and I hope to grow increasingly less concerned about scrupulously figuring things out. Instead, I want to live! And breath wonder, and express compassion. I wanna have a blast this semester, as I aim along with my roommate, to increase gross domestic spontaneity and playfulness on campus. I'd like to go deeper, and then realize that there's no deeper, or shallower, good or bad. I want the whole world to know what unconditional love is. Right now, I'd like to get some rest, phewwww, wooooosh, ahhhhh!

Thanks for continuing to follow along with me.

Sawatdee, Gracias, Asalamalakum,

-El Duchador

New Friends

Making new friends in Southeast Asia, including animals, seems a lot easier than in the U.S. of A. Some people like to go to the beach, others enjoy taking pictures of temples, but I like to just kick it with the locals. There's always a new adventure to get into with a Thai or a Laotian, and they're always to share their food with you: maa gin khao! (Come and eat with us!) The other day (actually about a month ago, I got lazy and forgot to blog), I had a craving for some sweets. The only place open was a cake shop with a lone birthday cake in the display window. I had a good feeling about this cake and it was only about 2 bucks! As it turns out, the people down the street were having a birthday party for their kids! Another fortuitous encounter happened at the internet cafe. I really was tired of the internet- every single tourist has a bad addiction problem- I swear to God you see junkies walking the streets saying, "You got internet mann, can I just got a single upload." So while my pals (I met a couple of fellow international travelers) were talking to virtual amigos on spacebook or myface, I struck up a conversation with the internet cafe workers. They gave me 4 different kinds of sticky rice snacks and offered me a V.I.P. bus to Luanprabang for only $200.
**Note- even though the world has an internet addiction and people survived while abroad prior to its inception, you really should stay in touch with friends back home. It's definitely kept me content and free of home sickness.

One of the most distinct features of Laos and Thailand is the tuk tuk- a three wheeled taxi with an awning that has been on the road for about 50 years. The experience of the tuk tuk in Laos is not as pleasant as in bra ted Thai. Everywhere you go you are hassled, "tuk tuk, go waterfall, cheap cheap"- same line over and over again. I have often thought what it does to a person's mentality, especially a child who is constantly pushing a product onto somebody, never getting the opportunity to just set back and wait, or talk to tourists just for the pleasure of it.

Nonetheless, other ways to entertain yourself while abroad without having to pay 50 us dollars to have a postcard experience include driving a tuk tuk, rescuing fish from the market, interviewing farmers about their land, planting sticky rice (free labour is always in high demand), taking an aerobics class, and making your own fishing rod out of local materials, even if it doesn't work. All things you can do at home, but for some reason its more fun while traveling. Maybe we just forget how to be creative and appreciate the ordinary.

Back To School

Don't be fooled, I'm not going back to school in America, but rather I've started the year off, kind of, at Khon Kaen University, Khon Kaen, Thailand. After my study abroad program ended, I decided to stay in Thailand to work and travel, despite a few unfortunate protests you may have heard about in the news. Though I am living in a city called Yasothon, and also in a village called Ban Non Yang, I decided to make a return trip to my ol' alma matter to visit some friends. As it happens, their school year is starting now. It's very unreal to be back here on my own- I feel like a true exchange student, and I also feel like a freshman again attending all of the welcoming events!

The new first years have arrived. You can tell that they're freshmen because they all have to wear ID tags the size of street signs. They look absolutely adorable trying to find their classes, making new friends and doing cheers in mass numbers like a giant, fluffy, PRC Army (People's Republic of China)- each department has a set of cheers they have to learn before they are officially accepted. Bring back any rememberances of your first days at university? I've gotten to go to a couple classes myself, and I've gotta say, their classes are more fun than mine. Everybody laughs at each other and gets really chatty, and they all looks dapper and swell in their black and white garb with individual selection of winnie the poo flats and hair ties, a stark contrast to the plaid and more plaid at Macalester. One community development professor asked me to introduce and explain the quote, "Learn to plan or plan to failllll," which I failed to plan for; though whole class offered an impressed, "ooooooooooo" when I told them I studied development just like them. When not in class students are also preparing for the big tournament of games, practicing softball, badmitten, and other sports with great intensity (see below and above).

So I'll be chillin hair, basking in memories of my freshman year and pretending to be student because i wish i was as hip and precious as them. When university life gets to be much, you will find me in a forest meditating on where my belly button leads to.










... sorry i only have photos of students playing softball. They're really are some more telling images. I just can't find them on my camera, haha.

Ron Mai?

Are you hot?

The temperature has broken a hun-ded, but the Thais have a solution for this: a national holiday called Songkran. During this joyous time, people pour into the streets to pour water all over each other for a week.

Ron mai? No problem!

Skills

Combing through my friends' hair to detach lice from their follicles is not a skill I envisioned myself mastering while studying abroad. BUT, people are dropping like acid to these small critters. Thai insects like farangs (foreigners). I think to mosquitoes, scorpions, and now lice, our student group is like one fat ethnic cuisine buffet. The first case was discovered by the security guard's wife who lives next to our office; she combed through the girl's hair locating one egg, than two, then the whole nest, dying with laughter along the way. Then another one had an itchy head, then another, and yet another. One of the things Thai people excel at is using their hands. Anything doesn't work or has to be stitched, cemented, dug, or grown, they can do it. As an American whose had everything placed in front of him or replaced as soon as it breaks down, I'm starting to realize that my hands don't realize what beauty they can produce, other than a blog entry or maybe a good massage. So, I'm putting the little guys through a training regiment, beginning with lice removal. It's a win-win; my friends have their itchiness relieved while my fingers become more nimble- how could I do otherwise? Unfortunately, I don't have time to cover how much going to the bathroom in this country has aided my progress. Until next time, take a good look at your hands. Have they been limited of their capacity because of the way everything is handed to you in your snug home? What's up with this? Let your digits loose before it's too late.

Post # 8, The Heat is On

Hey, I can't believe I made it to 8 posts. I don't know why I've kept up so long with this; there must be somethin good about it. Maybe something I can take from my blog is that: we're always looking for true passion and always afraid that we won't be able to maintain it once we find it, but passion finds you and it keeps pulling you in. Unfortunately, this point has nothing to do with my post tonight, which may be an indication of my publishing quality. My last post on dog sex is further evidence that my standards may be slipping right off a cliff. But! Onwards and upwards to number 9!

The heat is on in Khon Kaen, city of the motorcycles and air that is cleaner than Bangkok but dense enough to trap heat. It topped a hundred today and I was sweating bullets. But that's ok, the real problem is that my face continues to swell. I'm pretty sure I had an allergic reaction to some food. It started with itchy lips, that crusty stuff growing on the sides of my mouth, then dryness, then bloating- my lips have never been more robust, and now finally swelling around my face with itchiness. This, is studying abroad. My roommate and all his friends are concerned about me. They visit my dorm in hordes like I'm on my deathbed. One is studying pharmacy, so she gave me some anti-histamines. I don't know how this happened but I've got a good guess. First, I'm sticking with the food allergy hypothesis. If we accept that it is a food allergy, what food you might ask? Well, even though I'm a vegetariano, I've always been an omnivore- my palate a welcoming home to any flavor and essence. But, if I learned anything from my last unit of study on agriculture, it's that our food has more chemicals than ever before. Chemicals that aren't meant to play nicely with the food, the earth, and most definitely not our bodies. Chemicals that give vegetables a deceptive golden glow and the body a sweet rash. So, I've begun planting a garden in front of the office to ensure that this won't happen again. If you don't want your face to resemble that of a chipmunk, you should do the same. Don't worry about me mom, I'll be fine, really. Sometimes, no matter how many anti-histamines we throw at life, it becomes increasingly swollen and we have the tendency to become increasingly irritated. What do we do in these moments, I wonder? What is it like to feel an itch but not scratch?