varakam! (hello!)
i'm here! i'm happy! i'm writing this on a dial-up connection! (did you even know those still existed?) so, i don't have much time because life's too short to wait for these websites to load!
today i had one of those days where you end it thinking, "i could do that every day for the rest of my life and be completely happy." i awoke with the sunrise (schedule's still a little off from traveling), did some morning yoga and dancing, peaceful breakfast, and then ALL DAY with the young people in the program here. i started by going to the hindu temple, where the girls led me around the weekly rituals. back at the residence, i played a checkers type game with the boys, then sang and danced and played drums with them. then, i had a tamil lesson with the girls (i'm up to about 5 words now--thank you, mother, father, sister, brother--and i did learn how to write my name, Frank, and Terre in Tamil!). after that was lunch, and then a couple of hours of horribly cheesy indian movies with the girls. we always seemed to laugh at opposite times...the afternoon/evening was volleyball (the ball was like a rock, causing me to try to undo nearly 10 years of playing and try to hit it only with my fists...). i can't tell you how wonderful the day was. to be honest, after a couple days in the craaaaaziness and chaos of colombo when i first arrived, i was a bit worried about my time here. i really wasn't a fan. i'll try to write more about that when i have time and accessibility. but since i've left colombo and settled in here, things have been wonderful.
a few firsts of the last few days:
--having to give the toilet seat a little kick before sitting down to make sure there aren't any lizards underneath (their loss if they are, i guess.) my first night, one of the few times i got up to go to the bathroom in the night, i flipped on the light and saw a small lizard chilling in the bowl of the toilet. 'it's cool,' i thought, 'there's another bathroom right here. i'll just go in there.' i kid you not, i switched on the light in the other bathroom and saw another little lizard scurry behind the toilet on the wall. hopefully no one else in the building heard me yell out, "son of a bitch!"
--being in a hindu temple
--petting a baby elephant
--eating a mango straight off the mango tree in the yard
--drinking from a coconut and then eating the inside
--eating rice with my hands! (here, they eat their meals with the right hand--everything! it's actually more difficult than you might think. they usually bring out silverware for guests, but when i'm eating with someone else, i do my best to do whatever they're doing.)
that is just a taste of some of the highlights. thanks for reading! and thanks for all the emails i've recieved already! even if i don't respond (which i probably won't considering my limited access), i LOVE getting them! i'll try to write more and maybe even post a couple pictures if i ever get internet on my computer.
love to all!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
disappointment comes from expectations, while peace comes from taking one moment at a time
this title is an idea i have studied and thought about a lot over the past six months or so. and even more so over the past few weeks as i prepared for this summertime adventure. when i (i can speak only for myself) take the time to really think about it, i think it makes a lot of sense. only when we are expecting something very specific can we be disappointed that it doesn't turn out that way. however, if we choose to take each moment as it comes and to (try to) be fully present in those moments, we cannot be disappointed by a future to which we have not attached expectations.
as i prepare to leave tomorrow, i recognize that of course i have certain expectations for the summer. i expect to be hot. i expect to learn a lot. i expect to be challenged in many ways. and i expect to be really, really hot. but beyond that, i'm trying not to be too specific. rather than be in a state in which i'm constantly evaluating how things are different than what i expected, i hope to be constantly evaluating how things are beautiful, new, ancient, terrifying, life-giving, challenging, and part of a part of me that i have never known and yet known forever.
but, of course, i do expect to learn some new dance moves.
i will try to post when i can. thank you for reading. and please be in touch!
love and peace to you and yours and all.
as i prepare to leave tomorrow, i recognize that of course i have certain expectations for the summer. i expect to be hot. i expect to learn a lot. i expect to be challenged in many ways. and i expect to be really, really hot. but beyond that, i'm trying not to be too specific. rather than be in a state in which i'm constantly evaluating how things are different than what i expected, i hope to be constantly evaluating how things are beautiful, new, ancient, terrifying, life-giving, challenging, and part of a part of me that i have never known and yet known forever.
but, of course, i do expect to learn some new dance moves.
i will try to post when i can. thank you for reading. and please be in touch!
love and peace to you and yours and all.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
it's what i love.
after a very quick application and interview process and then a pretty agonizing 2 weeks of waiting to hear, a couple days ago i was officially offered a position for the summer months in Sri Lanka!!! i will be working for/with a really amazing international ngo (non-governmental organization) based out of chicago.
i still don't have too much information, but i have a tentative departure date of june 12th and i am incredibly excited. it will be an invaluable experience, and i will undoubtedly learn more than i can imagine--about myself, the world, and the mixture there-of.
hopefully i will have a chance to blog/email every once in a while. but if not, i'm sure i'll have plenty to share when i return in the end of august.
i'll post if/when i know more, but i wanted to make sure to put the word out there, so people that want to know, do! i hope to see you before i leave! i can't make any definitive promises, but call or email if you're around or if you have any other questions.
love and peace to you!
oh, and if you don't already know the musician m.i.a., she's sri lankan and amazing! so check her out HERE and have a dance party for me!
i still don't have too much information, but i have a tentative departure date of june 12th and i am incredibly excited. it will be an invaluable experience, and i will undoubtedly learn more than i can imagine--about myself, the world, and the mixture there-of.
hopefully i will have a chance to blog/email every once in a while. but if not, i'm sure i'll have plenty to share when i return in the end of august.
i'll post if/when i know more, but i wanted to make sure to put the word out there, so people that want to know, do! i hope to see you before i leave! i can't make any definitive promises, but call or email if you're around or if you have any other questions.
love and peace to you!
oh, and if you don't already know the musician m.i.a., she's sri lankan and amazing! so check her out HERE and have a dance party for me!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
i haven't been writing much lately, not only for the blog, but just in general. but this weekend, i graduated again. i finished grad school and in an effort to explore and document some of the things i'm thinking and feeling and wondering, i was able to get myself to write for a while tonight. as sometimes happens, it came out as a short dialogue. the writing's not great, but it means a lot to me. and as i read it over after, it reminded me of something i wrote about year ago. the format is the same, but the emotions and philosophies expressed are not, really.
although i'm not one to post creative writing on the blog, i feel compelled to do so for some reason. i would doubt that these short writings would mean anything to anyone else, so i'm not sure i care if anyone actually sees them or reads them. nonetheless, i feel like posting them. to me, they exemplify huge changes and prevailing insecurities. the first, titled dialogue #1, was written about a year ago, in march of 2009, as i was coming to the close of my undergraduate education and weighing my final decisions about grad school and other future plans. the second, dialogue #2, written completely separately of course, was written tonight, the night after graduating with my social work degree and facing a whole other world of uncertainty.
dialogue #1
“Why do you think I’m here?” she asked quickly with a voice attempting calm restraint, poorly masking the intensity with which she wanted an answer. She quickly moved her hand toward her face to take another drag of her cigarette, the other arm still folded tightly around her chest.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“What do you need from me?”
“Nothing,” he whispered.
“But look at you!” Her voice was beginning to betray her. “You’re a mess! There’s almost nothing left of you! What do you mean ‘nothing?’” She was beginning to feel as if emotion, any emotion, only had one way to express itself. Perhaps any intense feeling, by the time it had forced its way through the psyche from wherever it began and reached the level of communication, could only express itself through this choppy language varying widely in volume and sentence length. Or perhaps she only ever felt one emotion anymore.
“What do you think you can do for me?” he offered. It seemed that while her voice was growing more intense, his was fading. It seemed further away to her. In reality, it did not change.
“Well, there obviously must be something I can do. That’s why I’m here, right? That’s what the point is? Look at you. And then look at me. There’s a reason we’re like this.”
“What do you think that reason is?”
“I don’t know! Why do you think I would know? If I did know, would I be asking you? This isn’t something you would know any better than me. But, does anybody really know? I mean, who should I ask? What should I read? People have ideas, I know, but I’ve never really bought those. How do they know so confidently? They can tell the whole world, but do they do it themselves? No way. They just end up as more fucking hypocrites.”
“You seem upset.”
“Of course I’m upset! I’m here, right? If I didn’t care, if it didn’t upset me, I wouldn’t be here!” A surprisingly comfortable, almost relief-bringing silence passed. “Sometimes I think that would be easier.” Her voice was moving into a more somber tone.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t know. And I wish I did. It just seems right, you know? Like I should, because…I should. Because that’s the point of it all.”
“The point of what all?”
“Of this! Of why we’re here. Why you’re like that and I’m like this.”
“Is it about me? Or you?”
“It’s both. I think. I mean, there’s a reason we are the way we are, right? And I should do something, right? Right? It’s just…right.”
“Say’s who?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured with frustration. “I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure I ever knew.”
“What if you never know?”
“Is it possible? I’m not sure I’d make it. How would I know what to do? What should I do?”
“Listen.”
“To who? How will I know what’s right?”
“Listen.”
“To who?” Her varying levels of volume continued as she nearly shouted.
“Listen.”
dialogue #2
“what are you thinking about?” she asked sweetly, in a way that revealed genuine curiosity, and only a slight sense of naiveté.
“i don’t know,” she answered, in a way that revealed nothing.
a comfortable silence passed.
“well, that can’t be true, right? i mean, you must have been thinking about something, even if it was nothing. and you’re the only who would really know if it was something or nothing, or if the something was nothing, right?”
“i don’t know,” she repeated. “what are you thinking about?”
“i’m thinking about that movie i saw last week. it was so crazy violent, almost in a desensitizing way, you know? it really affected me. i’ve been having trouble sleeping, actually.”
“wow, really?” she asked sincerely.
“yeah. and it really made me think about all the violence in this city lately, too. and i just wonder how stuff like that is related, you know? and of course, i think about my students, and the situations they have to grow up in—the shit they have to see. it just seems like so much. they’re so young and already have so much to deal with. and on top of it all they have to worry about whether or not they’re going to make it to school and home again without being shot or beaten. and then they might have to take care of a parent or grandparent who is naturally or chemically ill. and they might not have a dinner to eat. and then they go to bed, knowing that they’ll wake up tomorrow and brave it again to go to a school that will almost assuredly leave them unprepared to achieve a basic level of living security in the future without putting forth an unbelievable level of effort--way more effort than i ever had to exert at their age. maybe more than i ever will. and at the same time, they know that just one misstep will make them a statistic, like everyone expects them to be, like most of the people around them will be. it just doesn’t seem fair, you know? it just doesn’t seem right.”
“wow. that’s a lot to be thinking about.”
another comfortable silence passed.
“now do you know what you’re thinking about?”
“that young girl that was sitting across from us on the train. did you notice her?”
“no. what about her?”
“she was sitting cross-legged next to a man who was probably her dad. she couldn’t have been more than 8, but was probably closer to 6. her hands were folded in her lap, and her thick, wavy brown hair was hanging just to the tops of her shoulders. she was cute, but without any really distinguishing features. she seemed a bit tired. and as i looked across at her, she smiled a very gentle smile. she slowly turned the edges of her mouth up, softened her eyes, and then inhaled and exhaled deeply. there was something about it that just made me feel so safe and peaceful. it was like she saw into me and said, ‘it’s okay. it’s going to be okay.’ and i believed her, you know? like, for a moment, we weren’t strangers on a train in the city, but we were everything—the two pieces of the whole, that have been friends and sisters forever. it was as if i had glimpsed the wisest being in the world in the smile of this little girl. and i thought about how sometimes i feel so unknown by the people around me, the people who seem to know me the best. and sometimes, which is scarier—terrifying to be honest--i feel like a complete stranger to myself. and yet in that moment i felt completely known and understood. and completely safe. and i knew that she wasn’t a stranger at all.”
“that’s a lot to be thinking about too.”
“yeah, and it just made me think about how rare those moments are and what that means. and if they can be manufactured. and if i can ever really know myself the way that girl knew me in that moment. and what it means if i know i can’t. and what it means if i don’t know.”
more silence passed, although it’s unclear for how long.
“so, what are you going to do?” she asked.
“what do you mean?”
“well, if you’re wondering what that moment means, what have you decided? what does it mean and what will you do about it? will you keep thinking about it? will you manufacture more? will you think about my students and the movie and the violence?”
“i guess i’ll just keep asking you what you’re thinking. i’ll keep trying to know you. and when those moments come i can rest in them. and maybe someday, when i’ve asked enough and i’ve seen enough, it won’t be so terrifying anymore. maybe then i can just be.”
although i'm not one to post creative writing on the blog, i feel compelled to do so for some reason. i would doubt that these short writings would mean anything to anyone else, so i'm not sure i care if anyone actually sees them or reads them. nonetheless, i feel like posting them. to me, they exemplify huge changes and prevailing insecurities. the first, titled dialogue #1, was written about a year ago, in march of 2009, as i was coming to the close of my undergraduate education and weighing my final decisions about grad school and other future plans. the second, dialogue #2, written completely separately of course, was written tonight, the night after graduating with my social work degree and facing a whole other world of uncertainty.
dialogue #1
“Why do you think I’m here?” she asked quickly with a voice attempting calm restraint, poorly masking the intensity with which she wanted an answer. She quickly moved her hand toward her face to take another drag of her cigarette, the other arm still folded tightly around her chest.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“What do you need from me?”
“Nothing,” he whispered.
“But look at you!” Her voice was beginning to betray her. “You’re a mess! There’s almost nothing left of you! What do you mean ‘nothing?’” She was beginning to feel as if emotion, any emotion, only had one way to express itself. Perhaps any intense feeling, by the time it had forced its way through the psyche from wherever it began and reached the level of communication, could only express itself through this choppy language varying widely in volume and sentence length. Or perhaps she only ever felt one emotion anymore.
“What do you think you can do for me?” he offered. It seemed that while her voice was growing more intense, his was fading. It seemed further away to her. In reality, it did not change.
“Well, there obviously must be something I can do. That’s why I’m here, right? That’s what the point is? Look at you. And then look at me. There’s a reason we’re like this.”
“What do you think that reason is?”
“I don’t know! Why do you think I would know? If I did know, would I be asking you? This isn’t something you would know any better than me. But, does anybody really know? I mean, who should I ask? What should I read? People have ideas, I know, but I’ve never really bought those. How do they know so confidently? They can tell the whole world, but do they do it themselves? No way. They just end up as more fucking hypocrites.”
“You seem upset.”
“Of course I’m upset! I’m here, right? If I didn’t care, if it didn’t upset me, I wouldn’t be here!” A surprisingly comfortable, almost relief-bringing silence passed. “Sometimes I think that would be easier.” Her voice was moving into a more somber tone.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t know. And I wish I did. It just seems right, you know? Like I should, because…I should. Because that’s the point of it all.”
“The point of what all?”
“Of this! Of why we’re here. Why you’re like that and I’m like this.”
“Is it about me? Or you?”
“It’s both. I think. I mean, there’s a reason we are the way we are, right? And I should do something, right? Right? It’s just…right.”
“Say’s who?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured with frustration. “I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure I ever knew.”
“What if you never know?”
“Is it possible? I’m not sure I’d make it. How would I know what to do? What should I do?”
“Listen.”
“To who? How will I know what’s right?”
“Listen.”
“To who?” Her varying levels of volume continued as she nearly shouted.
“Listen.”
dialogue #2
“what are you thinking about?” she asked sweetly, in a way that revealed genuine curiosity, and only a slight sense of naiveté.
“i don’t know,” she answered, in a way that revealed nothing.
a comfortable silence passed.
“well, that can’t be true, right? i mean, you must have been thinking about something, even if it was nothing. and you’re the only who would really know if it was something or nothing, or if the something was nothing, right?”
“i don’t know,” she repeated. “what are you thinking about?”
“i’m thinking about that movie i saw last week. it was so crazy violent, almost in a desensitizing way, you know? it really affected me. i’ve been having trouble sleeping, actually.”
“wow, really?” she asked sincerely.
“yeah. and it really made me think about all the violence in this city lately, too. and i just wonder how stuff like that is related, you know? and of course, i think about my students, and the situations they have to grow up in—the shit they have to see. it just seems like so much. they’re so young and already have so much to deal with. and on top of it all they have to worry about whether or not they’re going to make it to school and home again without being shot or beaten. and then they might have to take care of a parent or grandparent who is naturally or chemically ill. and they might not have a dinner to eat. and then they go to bed, knowing that they’ll wake up tomorrow and brave it again to go to a school that will almost assuredly leave them unprepared to achieve a basic level of living security in the future without putting forth an unbelievable level of effort--way more effort than i ever had to exert at their age. maybe more than i ever will. and at the same time, they know that just one misstep will make them a statistic, like everyone expects them to be, like most of the people around them will be. it just doesn’t seem fair, you know? it just doesn’t seem right.”
“wow. that’s a lot to be thinking about.”
another comfortable silence passed.
“now do you know what you’re thinking about?”
“that young girl that was sitting across from us on the train. did you notice her?”
“no. what about her?”
“she was sitting cross-legged next to a man who was probably her dad. she couldn’t have been more than 8, but was probably closer to 6. her hands were folded in her lap, and her thick, wavy brown hair was hanging just to the tops of her shoulders. she was cute, but without any really distinguishing features. she seemed a bit tired. and as i looked across at her, she smiled a very gentle smile. she slowly turned the edges of her mouth up, softened her eyes, and then inhaled and exhaled deeply. there was something about it that just made me feel so safe and peaceful. it was like she saw into me and said, ‘it’s okay. it’s going to be okay.’ and i believed her, you know? like, for a moment, we weren’t strangers on a train in the city, but we were everything—the two pieces of the whole, that have been friends and sisters forever. it was as if i had glimpsed the wisest being in the world in the smile of this little girl. and i thought about how sometimes i feel so unknown by the people around me, the people who seem to know me the best. and sometimes, which is scarier—terrifying to be honest--i feel like a complete stranger to myself. and yet in that moment i felt completely known and understood. and completely safe. and i knew that she wasn’t a stranger at all.”
“that’s a lot to be thinking about too.”
“yeah, and it just made me think about how rare those moments are and what that means. and if they can be manufactured. and if i can ever really know myself the way that girl knew me in that moment. and what it means if i know i can’t. and what it means if i don’t know.”
more silence passed, although it’s unclear for how long.
“so, what are you going to do?” she asked.
“what do you mean?”
“well, if you’re wondering what that moment means, what have you decided? what does it mean and what will you do about it? will you keep thinking about it? will you manufacture more? will you think about my students and the movie and the violence?”
“i guess i’ll just keep asking you what you’re thinking. i’ll keep trying to know you. and when those moments come i can rest in them. and maybe someday, when i’ve asked enough and i’ve seen enough, it won’t be so terrifying anymore. maybe then i can just be.”
Sunday, April 25, 2010
as i've stated before, i love traveling. but sometimes, memories can pop up at the most random times. such as last night, when i was sitting in my apartment, trying to do homework (on a saturday night, yes. but it's my LAST WEEKEND of grad school.) i was sitting, writing a hypothetical social service program proposal, when i started thinking about this house party i went to in mexico city last summer. i don't know why i started thinking about it. we were at this house packed with people somewhere in the massive city that is DF, and we were there until about 5am. i won't go into more detail, but it was a crazy night. and i guess it's just weird to think about how memory and nostalgia works. of all memories to pop into my head, why that one?
anyway, i thought i'd put a picture up to relate. this was actually not at the house, but it's from the same weekend and it's all the people i was there with.
anyway, i thought i'd put a picture up to relate. this was actually not at the house, but it's from the same weekend and it's all the people i was there with.
festival of rain.
i'm sitting in my room working on a final. coffee next to me, sigur ros floating through the apartment. i've been fighting the urge to write on here all morning, in an attempt to be productive on the final.
but just now, for about 30 seconds, it started to pour outside. just for 30 seconds. it was so beautiful. i couldn't help but stop typing, grab my coffee cup, and just take in the sight and sound of the rain hitting the rooftops around me.
it made me think of the essay 'rain and the rhinoceros' by thomas merton, where he discusses the 'festival of rain' and how it cannot be stopped. especially in the city, where people try to shuffle away and hide. rather than enjoy it as the festival that it is.
i hope i'm never too 'busy' to enjoy the rain. i hope you aren't either.
but just now, for about 30 seconds, it started to pour outside. just for 30 seconds. it was so beautiful. i couldn't help but stop typing, grab my coffee cup, and just take in the sight and sound of the rain hitting the rooftops around me.
it made me think of the essay 'rain and the rhinoceros' by thomas merton, where he discusses the 'festival of rain' and how it cannot be stopped. especially in the city, where people try to shuffle away and hide. rather than enjoy it as the festival that it is.
i hope i'm never too 'busy' to enjoy the rain. i hope you aren't either.
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