city, rain

longing for more? check out flickr. updated. linked at yer right.

some olden golden footage

carabeeners, mole rats, swordfights and the ever sexy abe lincoln...

so. i've been in a pretty good mood today. is it the thought of mole-rats and their cute little beady eyes and jaws of steel? is it that i get paid to walk in parks? or is it maybe, just maybe, the energy waves of millions of orgasms occurring around the world all at once?

whew. hot.

so, here's what's been happening in my life in the last while:
visitors have come from across the sea; they have bundled and bumbled their respective ways into my home, they have curled up/passed out in my bed, on my couch, on my floor. they have startled my roomate, cleaned my dishes, eaten my food, gotten drunk and most of all have kept me entertained and happy for the last week. thanks guys!

had a potluck on monday which seemed to be the culmination day of visitors visiting. it felt a little odd that most of the people in my house were from victoria. it's confusing when people move out of context and spill into different worlds, but nice too. we had a giant communal meal, impressively and consistently yummy.

i also went to a party full of robust young tree planters, gangsters in chains and hipsters in jaunty hats, spiral staircases, simulated swordfights. there was even a man draped in carabeeners who sported a first aid kit at the hip. we had an awkward conversation about knives. i spent most of the night hiding behind pamela, vanessa, meg, the stairs, anything for the love of god.

i always think i'll like parties. then i get there, feel awkward, talk only to those i know, drink way too much, giggle, go home.

on wednesday vanessa was here and we had a fun evening out with a random group of good solid nerdy people. the conversation ranged from sexy lobsters to threesome propositions to comic books, and so much more in between. t'was a good time needless to say. the only blip in the evening was when i was called "the commercial drive type". good thing i'm a forgiving person...

oh the holidays. whatever will i do when my social life wiggles back into whatever hole it came crawling out of? back to long walks, coffee shops, quiet mornings and long blog rants.

meh, it won't be so bad. or even so different.

an update for the sake of updating:

today was filled with coddling crying cooing baby tears. why do they cry so much? how do they cry so much?

today was filled with couch naps, quick snacks, and the sadness of leaving. somehow today decided to be the day that the emptiness of all this leaving struck me down. the flip-side of the happiness of all these visitors became apparent. what is good must return to whence it came.

this fragmented community is making me so sad. why do we all feel the need to leave each other in so many ways?

raise a tent of shelter now

yikes, what a storm. my roommate and i congregated eerily, sleepily, simultaneously at the window at four a.m., watching the trees bow almost to the ground in some exclusionary reverence, some ceremony to which we bore witness but could not understand...

i found it hard to sleep as the creaky house i call home swayed and croaked; as wiggly tree fingers tap-tapped on my shuddering window... eep! hid my head under my blanket, felt so much like a child. felt suddenly so small against the backdrop of an entire universe that i will never fully understand...

chapters one and too

it suddenly struck me that christmas is nigh. so very nigh. today is, what, the 14th? how did this happen? i am always so unprepared for everything that crosses my path. i look up from my coffee, my book, and wham! i realize that life goes on even when i'm not paying attention, which is frequently.

but it's not too late, i suppose, to join in the merriment. this coming week should be a very whirlwind of merriment, in fact. potlucks, dress-up parties, lantern festivals, craft-makin' and bread-bakin' - and so much visiting. i can hardly wait.


* * * * * * * * * * *


so. last night i spent the good part of three hours on the telephone having this twisting tornado of a conversation with eben. a lot of this conversation seemed to revolve around the ways in which we change, in which we ebb and flow...

(an aside - last tuesday eb was introduced to a girl named flo. it made my night)

...and today i'm thinking a lot about the ways in which we become different people made up of different tangible and intangible material from year to year. being human is such an effin mystery, such madness! we are born, we obsess about every silly detail of our self-obsessed lives, we slump around these man-made worlds, occasionally looking up and around in wonder, and then we look back down into our little worlds, obsess some more about weird human constructs such as money, romance, art... and then eventually we die. and what was it all for?

one question i posed to eb was this: what, exactly, would you talk about if you knew you were going to die in, say, five days? how could you not realize how pointless everything is? how could you not realize how almight important every little thing is? and what do you say anymore to those you love? how much of our lives revolve around our futures, around avoiding the frightening reality that all we have is now? (as the flaming lips once said) and once that future is removed how do we keep from drowning in the present; that moment that we struggle so much to avoid?

oh, i know, i know, i digress. and perhaps 23 is a little too young to obsess about mortality. but it's there, and maybe if we think about these things enough we can find a way of accepting them and making our lives less of a distraction, more of a life.

who knows.

well, any thoughts?

rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and irony

oh, so much drinking. an amusing 'mod' evening in which an odd assortment of friends and acquaintances gathered together, got drunk, sat on strangers' laps, had "one night stands" with their boyfriends, danced to motown, played with their cellphones, made new friends in the loo, and eventually moaned in a drunken stupor. i somehow coerced some friends into sharing a cab with me despite their living on the opposite side of town which means i am apparently good at convincing drunk people to do silly things. perhaps this is an applicable skill for the apocalypse?

and today is seemingly a write-off. my brain doesn't seem to be working well. i made the strangest breakfast that began as an omelette and ended as a strange vegetable-polenta-tortilla-potato-parmesan-o-rama. it took me over an hour to make (mainly because i couldn't quite decide what i was making until i got too tired to continue and just ate it) but happily it was kind of good hangover food. i don't think i could ever recreate it though, which is too bad cause it looked grossly weird enough to be included in the cookbook that is in the works. (for those of you who don't know it will be a book of delicious items that look extremely unappetizing. the purpose of this book is to save people money by preventing others from eating their food without looking like a stingy bastard. and no, allen's (in)famous cottage cheese jello casserole cannot be included because it tastes as revolting as it looks. sorry al)

well, as i said my brain is really not working well. i'm having a lot of trouble spelling which is a very serious matter indeed.

hydrocephalitic listlessness

one thing i've noticed lately: i have stopped writing in my journal religiously, only occasionally opening its holy pages to read over, think, and scribble a few awkward lines. and i think perhaps this site may have something to do with that.

but then, as eben says, i write even in my own journal as though for an audience, so perhaps i may as well have one...

spent the morning at my kitchen table, spying once again but mostly reading this incredible epic article about joanna newsom (tonight i see her!). anyone who doesn't quite believe in her should definitely read this article... i sat for an hour afterwards just listening to her new album and crying and feeling so... so... well, you know. that way that you feel when you hear incredible music that touches something personal, something specific in your life. there's probably a term for it, or should be.

i perhaps have a new job as a nanny. not sure how i feel about having yet another sporatic (?) job with random hours. i'm finding it harder and harder to have a routine, which i realized while traveling is something i desperately love. morning coffee and reading is still a go, so that's something. i'm grateful for my ability to wake up slow even while employed; to have a few hours to stare at the wall and ponder the intricacies of life and death and music. but i'm finding it hard to enjoy all this free time to its fullest when i'm always stressed about Money and my Future and all that other stuff that takes over.

so, any ideas kids? for Money, for My Future?

and contemplating christmas this morning too. family and friends and that warm glow; and also the recent fallability i've discovered in those i believed to be infallible throughout my childhood. maybe not so much fallability as vulnerability, which is perhaps worse. getting older is so strange. my love for everyone is changing, becoming more complicated but maybe stronger.

well, anyways, christmas comes and even though i'm not making christmas cards i'm definitely feeling infinitely older this time around. wiser? weathered? not too sure. maybe just different.

the way it will all come together...

today feels like a good one. i woke up late and slow, made coffee, and sat at the kitchen table for a long while just watching the snow fall and peering in on my next-door neighbours. (ah, the intimacy of city-dwellers).

been doing a lot of thinking lately. i still have a lot of time on my hands, but i feel good about it today. if i can make rent in two days and have a bit of cash to spare i'll be happy. isn't that what life should be like? scraping off enough freedom to be happy, and working enough to feel satisfied and stress free? i don't mind working if it fulfills me, but i can't imagine spending the next ten years working full time in the food industry. and i won't.

and for this reason i am liking tutoring; i have found something that makes me feel good and that i think perhaps i am good at. i am helping people to learn and i am getting paid for it. and i'm valued and appreciated, which should not be taken for granted.

and the world around me has had a glow lately. i feel like my perspective, my way of seeing things has changed so much. i still get depressed, i still have terrible days. but i've come to see how precious life is, how fleeting and how marvelous t'is. look outside! it's incredibly beautiful, and so unlikely. on days like this i forget completely why i get so down sometimes.

and i'm finding a community, a staggered disconnected and motley community, but still. there are familiar faces in random spaces, and that is the one thing i have been looking for since i left victoria.

and it can only get better, right?

beauty! beauty!

wow. it is so beautiful out. i've had that glow like being on mushrooms for the whole day, watching everything move slowly, absorbing the stillness that this rare weather brings.

and last night i forced myself to go to a party filled with strangers. and guess what? it was neither terrifying nor terrible. it was, in fact, loads of fun. i met some lovely people, drank a lot of wine and skipped home at four a.m. under the most magical moonlit sparkling snowflakes. yes!

things are looking up.

it's such an enormous thing to walk and to listen

feeling exceptionally happy today. why? is it because two of my favorite people have (finally) returned from their travels and travails? is it because i had a day completely to myself, to walk and to listen? is it because i moved furniture, and acquired a beautiful blue shelf? is it because my apartment (and possibly my life) are becoming slowly but surely cleared of clutter? is it because of the wind that blew in clear skies? is it because of the many cups of coffee and the thought of a creative project? is it because winter has finally come and i can stop dreading its coming and just plain embrace its existence?

i imagine it's a bit of everything.

and it's terribly good to carry water and chop wood

on friday i went out dancin' with pamela and john. discussed some important matters such as couple cute/barf factors and the many categories of sexuality to which one may belong. (i wonder where i stand...?) john seems to have an extensive list, as well as some lovely sound effects and gestures to illustrate his points. pamela got drunk and giggled a lot, and wondered whether people who don't know her talk about her the way that people talk about tippi. ha! i like those kids...

and yesterday morning i woke up after 4 hours of sleep and too many glasses of beer feeling oddly clearheaded. i think perhaps i have realized a few important things:

for one, i realize that i do indeed have lovely friends and that they do indeed keep me grounded, anchored, as much as i try to spin wildly out of control some days.

for two, i realized that victoria is no longer my home. for now? for ever? we shall see, but despite the loneliness i feel strangely comforted returning to vancouver. ah, the mountains, the many views, the greyness and the colors and...well, y'know. other stuff. stuff i try to be wordy about but is really best left inside my head to wallow in its own juices. splish splash.

for three, i realized that life is really an amazing thing. well, maybe that hit me earlier than yesterday, but yesterday morning it seemed exceptionally clear. terrible things happen, and are happening, and will continue to happen forever and ever. but there are so many human beings around, big hairy ones and little goosy ones and everything in between, and it's so exciting. human beings are so great.

for four, i realized that i have changed a lot lately. i think i like these changes, though i think i need to try them out a little longer before i decide for sure. we shall see we shall see.

and to top it off, the new joanna newsom album came out.

woooot.

the victorian era

is it a coincidence that my street and bus route in vancouver are both called 'victoria'?

hmmm... i miss that fair city. spent the last five days on the island, filling my time with friends, music, beer, books... felt strangely normal, as though that were in fact my life, and it is vancouver that is a recurring tangible dream.

and yet... such a big part of me says "kerria! you need the smog, you need the skyscrapers, you need the filth, you need the life, you need the millions of stories that surround you!"

well, something like that. hard to translate your inner voice into words.

but i miss a life i used to lead, and i miss all those people that made my visit so full of love and fun and excitement. perhaps it's just in relation to my rather antisocial and introspective life here, but it was fun and exciting and full of love nonetheless.

well, at some point i plan on finding my community, my niche, my comfort zone. it may take years but i will find it, and for now i'll try to be thankful for this time and space to think, drift, over-analyze, write, go mad and most of all, feel thankful for what i had and have and will have.

and going mad is not so bad, i think...

the small things

my busdriver yesterday was a hipster, young and handsome, with a jaunty black and white checkered scarf slap-dashed over his uniform.

isn't that wonderful?

also, check this out.

oh, the internet...

peel off all your layers

today was quiet, uneventful. i slept late, since insomnia has gripped me fairly regularly for the last month. last night i finally broke down and covered my window with a large cloth in the hopes that the problem was all the light seeping in at all hours. sadly, it didn't fix the problem, but i'm hoping that tonight some tea and dickens will soothe me to deep dark sleep.

spent the day sitting in my new haunt, a coffee shop full of middle aged men and mommies. somehow i like it that way - i feel more anonymous, more inconspicuous. perhaps it's the opposite, but hey, they sell coffee with gold flakes! real gold!

chatted with an interesting man for a long while. he had a lot to say, and he said it very slowly and deliberately. he has lived in vancouver for forty years and seems to know all its secrets, its intricacies, its politicians and street-preachers. he showed me his book of poetry, and he tried to read my journal over my shoulder. ha! i like his style.

and today there was this incredible light, with the clouds sitting just above the horizon and beneath them the sun. and all these trees...oh man, autumn is incredible in this neighborhood, with every house a different color, every street paved with different shades of red, and everything glowing. and my discman singing to my footsteps, thom yorke crooning to me and only me.

if only...

and took the skytrain out to see my grandpa turn 88. he still calls me his 'little redheaded rascal' after all these years.

today was nice.

cityscrapers

a man in his leather jacket calls me mamacita, ''ti quiero mucho, beautiful girl.'' i smile, i let him kiss my hand, he moves on to the next young girl behind me. he moves on like all good things.

a man shouts and prophecises the end, captive bus passengers are the only audience he can find to listen to his ideas. i listen with a grin. i want to get up and hug him.

an old chinese man: shamefully cute in his square thick-rimmed glasses, his pants chin-high. he gesticulates wildly, he grins and laughs, he points. translation: he loves my cheap-o chinatown shoes. i love him too. he pats my shoulder kindly as he leaves.

a lady gets on, loaded down with bags. she sees a familiar face, tells him that her guardian angel sent him to help her. she loads him up with everything, giggling. he is covered in bags.

ah vancouver, you're not so bad.

bicycle dreams

this morning seems to be all about bicycles. i woke up from a dream of riding a unicycle around town, wind in my hair. it was easier than it looks, in my dream. I think i'll have to try it in real life. anyone own a unicycle? got an email this morning about riding bicycles through piles of leaves. and on sunday i rode my bike to tutoring, cold cold wind, leaves blowing around my face, nose running and red. nothing better than that wind-and-bicycle-induced snot, flowing out of control.

so this morning i decided to read about our lovely two wheeled friends. some factoids:

''All the bridges built since the last war over the St. Lawrence River in Quebec have omitted facilities for bicyclists. And the four bridges involved include both those constructed by the government of Canada and the government of Quebec... In Montreal things are actually retrogressing. The hundred year old Victoria Bridge was renovated to eliminate sidewalks in favour of two additional car lanes. In Philadelphia, no less than four bridges crossing the Delaware river have no bicycle access. One such bridge is named after Walt Whitman, author of the Open Road. ''

''The most spectacular do it yourself cycleroute was built in the summer of 79 between bristol and bath in England. George Platts, chariperson of bristol's cycling organization writes: 'We have achieved a number of firsts, including the construction of a five mil stretch of inter-urban cycle and footpath in ten weeks using volunteer labour and raising the 5000 pound material cost ourselves.''

''The bicycle was recognised by nineteenth-century feminists and suffragists as a "freedom machine" for women. American Susan B. Anthony said: "Let me tell you what I think of bicycling. I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world. It gives women a feeling of freedom and self-reliance. I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel...the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood."

and the best one of all: ''Sociologists suggest that bicycles enlarged the gene pool for rural workers, by enabling them to easily reach the next town and increase their courting radius.''

think of where we'd be without bicycles...

my favorite memories from asia are those lazy afternoons when i would rent a bike for pennies and take off. oh, those lovely hundred-pound one speeders that would take me sweating along flat open rice fields, past waving kiddies, cute as buttons.

someone must force Harmony to ride a bike. it's so made for her.
stubborn girl.

for paula

it is the kind of autumn day today
that i am told you loved
cold blue sky and every street a different colored carpet

it is my favorite time of year too
despite the sadness that change brings
this year more than ever
as meg says, autumn will always now
be colored by your death;
among the fallen leaves, your face

i'm trying to look after her
but i'm not so strong these days

i keep thinking of your face at
every choir concert of my childhood
teary and streaked with pride as we
sang our little hearts out
and i feel so lucky to have known you and
your generous love

your faith in me astounds me when i look back

i remember the importance of your weeping
as i was leaving everything behind last winter for the unknown
i was terrified and sad
and when i saw your tears it touched me more than you could have realized
and stays with me

and somehow i'm glad that autumn will forever be your season
when the trees weep for love and change

art school

emanuel is scary.

also, i like douglas coupland.

''To this day, if friends with kids in trouble ask for advice i tell them send the
kids to art school. a few times the advice has been taken, and it's always
worked out well. art, you are my jackhammer. art, you are my bulldozer.''

i also like art. i wish i stuck it out at art school. then i could have a handy tool and a piece of heavy machinery to help me through the trials and tribulations of unemployment and mopey-ness. sadly, all i have now is a degree in art history.

stupid, stupid...

well, i guess i can still make art, as scary as it is. stupid ego.

check it out. it's werner. and his shoe. bon appetit.

also, i seem to be spending far too much time on the internet since i started updating this blog. why must the internet be so infinitely interesting? i can look at the same site ten times a day and it could be different every time! that is amazing.

i need some more friends in vancouver...

harpie

in light of my ticket to see miss newsom, wikipedia says:

''Her songwriting incorporates elements of indie pop, Appalachian music, avant-garde modernism, African harp rhythms and a sensibility that some listeners describe as quirky. Many are struck by Newsom's unusual voice, child-like and weathered (at least one critic has compared it to Lisa Simpson's).''

she is so weirdly hot.

iron your carefully crafted disguise

cold and very october-esque today. the sun shines but you can see the cold hovering in the air. the sky is not quite that summer blue these days...

hmm. quit my job, got a new one. a bit more stressful but it comes with tips and free food. so.

somehow missed two parties this weekend; once for too many beers and good conversation, the second for a warm bed. so much for making new friends...

been doing a lot of over-thinking lately. it's making me self-absorbed and mopey. and i think it's time to suck it up and start appreciating all the good things in my life. i have such good friends, and even if most of you guys are a bit far away it really helps that you exist.

so, uh, i appreciate it.

i dunno. today is a bit confusing.

wage slavery,

well

first day at my "new job", if you can call it that. an hour in and i was already plotting my escape. i've realized today that as much as i may try i absolutely cannot go back to customer service minimum wage slavery... i already feel murderous and i've worked four hours.

ugh.

what will sustain us through the winter...

the clouds have come rolling in again, and does this mean that winter has rolled in for good? not sure how i will make it through the dark season, not sure exactly how things are going to come together. still no job, still no purpose, still lost in between worlds. i think all that time wandering aimlessly through different realities has left me stunted in a way - unable to settle into one soldid space and stay there. unable to feel that this is home, that this will last. and maybe it isn't home - so far it certainly doesn't feel like it.

this morning i got a flat tire, and somehow was rescued by a lady who brought me into her basement and shazam, a bike shop. more money spent, still no money made. damn.

when will things start coming together here? i miss community; it's been almost a year since i was nestled into a warm world of friends.

but i guess i just have to hold on, keep trying, keep working to make it happen.

werner herzog eats his shoe

says allmovie.com:

While he was struggling to complete his first feature-length film, documentarian Errol Morris was discussing his problems with his friend and mentor, the acclaimed German director Werner Herzog. In a moment of frustration, Herzog blurted out that if Morris ever actually finished the movie he kept talking about, he'd eat his shoe. In 1977, Morris finally completed his feature, Gates of Heaven, and he contacted Herzog to tell him that after several well received screenings at film festivals, the premier showing had been scheduled. Herzog, a man of his word, flew to the United States and cooked his shoe, eating it on-stage at the screening. Les Blank, a good friend of both filmmakers, captured the event on film for posterity, and Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe offers a witty look at how to cook a shoe, Herzog's history of keeping unusual promises, his views on the relationship between cuisine and cinema, and the movie by Morris that made the event possible.

we all live here...

hmmm...the fog has settled. winter is nigh, and i'm realizing this is the first time in a long time we've seen this kind of weather. i've spent the last ten months or so under (seemingly) eternal blue skies, and i must say i was getting a bit sick of them. this is so much more the b.c. i see in my mind.

so, me and natalie are having an ongoing debate of sorts (see: tales of mystery). but the funny thing is that i think we are arguing the same point with different arguments. we both feel frustrated with the state of things, and we both realise that there are no answers or straightforward solutions. i think that we both feel anger towards something abstract, which gives this real sense of helplessness...

i think two months back in north america has put me almost back where i began, with perhaps my eyes a bit more open. but i've realised that i've almost forgotten what it feels like to be surrounded by all these people who envy me, who desire something from me, who see me as living some ideal life they wish to emulate. i've almost forgotten how it feels to wake up to that every day, and to be unable to communicate the imperfections of my lifestyle. "well, i don't make that much money..." and yet there i was halfway across the world living off my savings for 7 months. hmmmm...

and yet almost every day i ride the bus through the downtown east side, watching out the window and understanding nothing of their experience. watching just as i watched in asia: as a priviledged outsider who can hop the next bus...

and what exactly do you do about this? what can you do, what should you do? do you give a few coins? do you make art? do you write angry letters? do you protest? and to whom? to the government, to the rich, or to the idea of poverty itself?

me, glorious me!

look, it's me. maybe if i put photos people will get excited and read my blog more. i should be in advertising.

also, i have more photos! on flickr! and if you want to see them slowly move your eyes to the right and you will see a beautiful link. i figured out how to make links and publish photos in the same week!

i'm a genius.

if you want to sing out, sing out...

well, what to say. ive been trying to figure out exactly what a blog entails; it is neither journal nor email. it is a new enigma created by the cyberworld. and what exactly do i want to say here, and who exactly am i trying to say it to. is this an advertisement for my good spelling, my ability to express myself, or is it merely a place to purge my emotions and opinions with the added benefit of an audience...

oh me oh my.

well.

ive had a bit of a crazy ride lately. trying to figure out so many things: how to live the life i want, how to start over, how to leave everyone behind, return to them and leave them behind again. and whats important to me, and what is not.
trying to deal with personal angst, with selfishness. trying to juggle my own struggle with unexpected grief, with the grief of those i love. trying to find a balance between necessary selfishness and unnecessary self-absorption. trying to deal with this sudden fear of death that leaves me each night staring through the dark, clutching at wakefulness for fear of losing everything. and the fear of losing others grips me too, a fear that is grounded in reality.

trying to start a new life. falling in love with this city and its surprises. i keep getting lost in the view on my way to the loo. at night it makes me feel like im in a spaceship looking down at some science fiction city full of flying cars and floating skyscrapers.

just finished reading 'harold and maude'. it was like watching the movie in subtitles, minus the cat stevens. it was the perfect book for the state i'm in. L-I-V-E LIVE! coming through sadness and loss with a new appreciation for how precious, how joyful life is. being human, feeling human. being thankful for each day of life, but accepting death as part of everything. a fine balance...

i still don't know what this blog is for.

vancouverness

why hello there!

well, it's official. i'm a vancouverite. i now have outrageous rent and a cell phone. i belong.

i also seem to be writing a blog that no one reads. perhaps this could really be like a journal, where i could profess my deepest darkest secrets and no one would ever know! and then when i died they'd find it, and publish it. but you all could have read it long ago, for free! silly you.

vancouver seems to be significantly cooler than victoria. which generally means many more opportunities to spend my money. hmmm...

well. ok. this feels only slightly less sad and weird than talking to oneself, so i'm off.

gloom and other wonders

gloomy day. some thoughts: why do our moods go up and down with the weather? this seems like a bit of a useless evolutionary tool. shouldn't it have been removed at some point? or did we acquire this along the way? i guess depression is a bit of a new one. i wonder what purpose that serves?

i guess i'm moving to vancouver. now i'm scared. there are lots of cool people in victoria. where did they come from? are there cool people in vancouver? and, more importantly, will they talk to me? i'm afraid of all the hipsters...

but i guess the time has come. me and victoria had our days of glory. now it's time for some new and exciting gloomy city time. i wonder if i can still ride a bicycle, or if i'll be hit by a bus the first day. that might not be so bad though... i might start making a living out of bike accidents. then i won't have to get a shitty food service job. man, i don't want to get a job.

blog?

yo.
so does anybody still read this thing? i myself had almost forgotten it existed. good thing i'm unemployed with nothing better to do than browse the internet for hours on end. there are worse things i could do with my time.

yah, so. i'm back in b.c. back in baby's arms. baby got back.

i love it here. i've had a lot of time to reflect on my trip, on the life i led for more than half a year that was so different from the one i lead here. and as much as i miss the excitement, the newness, and the continent itself, i still feel so glad to be home. b.c. is incredibly beautiful. did i know this before? i guess so. but i don't think i appreciated it. and we have such an amazing amount of educated and caring people. sure, there is still apathy oozing from the strip malls, the suv's of suburbia, of every town and city. but there is so much good intention here as well. i certainly never found another place where people say thank you when they get off the bus. and so many people care about their communities here. so many people smile at me as i walk down the street.

i think of all the things i got out of leaving the comforts of home behind, the most important was this new and improved sense of gratefulness. i feel so grateful every morning for everyone and everything i have here. that means you, whoever's out there. you even get bonus points for even checking if this thing is still alive.

anyways, i gots a lotta love for y'all.

that's all for today. back to twiddling my thumbs and trying not to think of the... f-u-t-u-r-e.

gasp.

rocket power

so. i'm in the new delhi railway station, on my way to haridwar to see eben(!) and natalie (!) and noah(!) (oh my...)

leaving rajastan was a little sad. there was something in the air there, something that was somehow and inexplicably different from the rest of india. maybe just sand...

spent a few days in bed in jaisalmer, strange illness that caused me to be extremely tired and unable to follow conversations, especially conversations in french. and then, up i got and onto the camel's back. into the desert, into the sun. and i felt immediately better. except for the camel riding part...ooo. not so comfortable.

first day there was a giant windstorm. for lunch we ate chappatis cooked with sand, vegetables spiced with sand, chai sprinkled with sand... tried to set up camp in the dunes, huddled under blankets or under camels, unable to come out without blinding oneself. occasionally a tumbleweed would drift past.

finally it died down, and the night was calm. for dinner our seasoning of choice seemed to be wiggling insects rather than sand. a refreshing change. thank goodness it was dark and we couldn't see much of what we were eating...

sleeping on dunes in the middle of nowhere. so so dark, such bright stars. the first time i've camped in months - it was lovely and felt like home. sunrise was incredible, slow, anticlimactic. back on the camels, back to my new friend rocket who is not so speedy as her name may suggest, and back to the pain...

and now here i am, moving by train rather than camel. a little faster, a little less painful, but not quite so cute.

back in dehli where it all began. seems a little less insane to me now, but still insane enough.

a love-hate relationship

so. udaipur... what to say about this place? so far i have had my best and worst experiences here - in india, and possibly my life.

this town, as jessy (my partner in crime for the past couple weeks) has pointed out, is mainly about nice views and climbing stairs.
the first day we arrived was the first day of holi, which is a magnificent festival that we absolutely must bring to canada. we were invited to celebrate with the family of a friend we met on the train. they were absolutely lovely and welcoming, making us a delicious dinner and making us feel like honored guests.

the next day was the culmination of holi, where absolutely everyone gets covered in color. i stepped out into the streets and within seconds i was blueyellowpinkgreen. i was also, however, surrounded by packs of men who finally had an excuse to place their hands wherever the hell they wanted while i stood trapped and furious. needless to say i returned to the guesthouse pretty quickly to watch from the sidelines, until a family living nextdoor invited us in to sit with them while the women sang and the men socialised... this, however did not last long, and before we knew what was happening the kids had all grabbed buckets and were making for the hose... helped to wash off some of the color though. quite hilarious watching these digified women in saries getting attacked by dignified old men in their sunday best, everyone laughing hysterically - especially when me and jessy got held down and attacked from all sides.

later we went back to lokesh's family where all the kids were adorably excited to see us again and cover us (again) with color. we ended up having a big hindi dance party in the living room, with me and jessy awkwardly trying to imitate the graceful and totally beautiful dancing of the women in the family. later, we went and saw the sights of udaipur from the back of a motorbike - the aftermath of holi is quite a sight, with drains running with blue and red, men with green hair, multi -colored cows...

so, these are the things and days and experiences that make it all worthwhile. and yet, it is impossible to forget that i am a woman here, impossible to forget that as a western woman travelling in india i am seen as many things and few of them are based on my wonderful personality. i am money(come see my shop?) , i am status (please, one photo?) and i am sex. (hello madam. very beautiful! hisshiss). it can sometimes be ignored but other days it is just too depressing to let it slide. i have been sad to discover in the last few days that even my own instincts cannot be trusted, that people are never as they seem and the stereotype into which i am pigeon-holed is never far from the surface. i have learned that making friends with indian men is not the same as making friends with canadaian men, and that cultural differences can be totally overwhelming and impossible to overcome. never in my life have i felt so violated, so invaded as in this country. as noah will attest to, there have been days where i have felt like all the good things about india can be ecliipsed by a single incident, a single hand reaching where it could never go in canada without a law suit.

one thing which i find interesting is that is doesn't seem to be so much indian culture that is to blame as it is western culture. it is the way that women are constructed in popular culture and media in north america that creates the strange and offensive ideas that most men under thirty here seem to have about us roaming females. (the sexual repression of young people here, however, is certainly a factor) this is something i think we all need to think about in a society where we are becoming apathetic, where many people think that women's rights and human rights have reached their pinnacle and that we are as progressive as you can get. (this, in a culture where women are still shown in their panties on tv magazine covers movies newspapers, where women are still valued culturally for their youth and beauty rather than their identities, their humanness, where i know women who feel that they are only valuable and attractive when some trashyboy thinks they're hot) and this is exacly it - because of these portrayals i am not seen as being totally human here by men but rather as a sexual object to be possessed. sickening. being here has, paradoxically, made me think more and more about how much further we have to progress in canada, and how much work needs to be done to open people's eyes. apathy, apathy...

well, what else can i say? there are days that are indescribably beautiful, where india opens up beyond the tourist walls and i can catch precious glimpses into this fabulous culture. and other days i just want to crawl under a rock, or get a sex change. for now, i will just take out my frustrations here, and hopefully that will be enough to get me through the hard days. (christina, i wish you could be here sometimes to discuss and scream about this with me!)

love you all, and appreciating all of your fabulous intelligent empathetic and critical minds.

hugs and misses

a love-hate relationship

so. udaipur... what to say about this place? so far i have had my best and worst experiences here - in india, and possibly my life.

this town, as jessy (my partner in crime for the past couple weeks) has pointed out, is mainly about nice views and climbing stairs.
the first day we arrived was the first day of holi, which is a magnificent festival that we absolutely must bring to canada. we were invited to celebrate with the family of a friend we met on the train. they were absolutely lovely and welcoming, making us a delicious dinner and making us feel like honored guests.

the next day was the culmination of holi, where absolutely everyone gets covered in color. i stepped out into the streets and within seconds i was blueyellowpinkgreen. i was also, however, surrounded by packs of men who finally had an excuse to place their hands wherever the hell they wanted while i stood trapped and furious. needless to say i returned to the guesthouse pretty quickly to watch from the sidelines, until a family living nextdoor invited us in to sit with them while the women sang and the men socialised... this, however did not last long, and before we knew what was happening the kids had all grabbed buckets and were making for the hose... helped to wash off some of the color though. quite hilarious watching these digified women in saries getting attacked by dignified old men in their sunday best, everyone laughing hysterically - especially when me and jessy got held down and attacked from all sides.

later we went back to lokesh's family where all the kids were adorably excited to see us again and cover us (again) with color. we ended up having a big hindi dance party in the living room, with me and jessy awkwardly trying to imitate the graceful and totally beautiful dancing of the women in the family. later, we went and saw the sights of udaipur from the back of a motorbike - the aftermath of holi is quite a sight, with drains running with blue and red, men with green hair, multi -colored cows...

so, these are the things and days and experiences that make it all worthwhile. and yet, it is impossible to forget that i am a woman here, impossible to forget that as a western woman travelling in india i am seen as many things and few of them are based on my wonderful personality. i am money(come see my shop?) , i am status (please, one photo?) and i am sex. (hello madam. very beautiful! hisshiss). it can sometimes be ignored but other days it is just too depressing to let it slide. i have been sad to discover in the last few days that even my own instincts cannot be trusted, that people are never as they seem and the stereotype into which i am pigeon-holed is never far from the surface. i have learned that making friends with indian men is not the same as making friends with canadaian men, and that cultural differences can be totally overwhelming and impossible to overcome. never in my life have i felt so violated, so invaded as in this country. as noah will attest to, there have been days where i have felt like all the good things about india can be ecliipsed by a single incident, a single hand reaching where it could never go in canada without a law suit.

one thing which i find interesting is that is doesn't seem to be so much indian culture that is to blame as it is western culture. it is the way that women are constructed in popular culture and media in north america that creates the strange and offensive ideas that most men under thirty here seem to have about us roaming females. (the sexual repression of young people here, however, is certainly a factor) this is something i think we all need to think about in a society where we are becoming apathetic, where many people think that women's rights and human rights have reached their pinnacle and that we are as progressive as you can get. (this, in a culture where women are still shown in their panties on tv magazine covers movies newspapers, where women are still valued culturally for their youth and beauty rather than their identities, their humanness, where i know women who feel that they are only valuable and attractive when some trashyboy thinks they're hot) and this is exacly it - because of these portrayals i am not seen as being totally human here by men but rather as a sexual object to be possessed. sickening. being here has, paradoxically, made me think more and more about how much further we have to progress in canada, and how much work needs to be done to open people's eyes. apathy, apathy...

well, what else can i say? there are days that are indescribably beautiful, where india opens up beyond the tourist walls and i can catch precious glimpses into this fabulous culture. and other days i just want to crawl under a rock, or get a sex change. for now, i will just take out my frustrations here, and hopefully that will be enough to get me through the hard days. (christina, i wish you could be here sometimes to discuss and scream about this with me!)

love you all, and appreciating all of your fabulous intelligent empathetic and critical minds.

hugs and misses

nice head massage, madame?

ok. so i'm back. i keep forgetting people in my emails and spending my days nibbled by guilt, so i will try this out for a while.

so, where did we leave off? varkala i think. from there i took a train to bangalore, where i spent the day waiting for my connecting trip with a lovely gal who i befriended on the train. she took me to her college where she was having a 'send-off' (essentially a going away ceremony) since she was leaving her teaching position. i was made a reluctant guest of honor; they put me in the front of the classroom with the other teachers, gave me flowers, and even forced me to make a speech. (they tried to get me to sing, so the speech was a compromise). india is not the best place for a wallflower like me...i am constantly forced into situations where i am the center of attention. this is one thing i will absolutely not miss.

and hampi. a different world from this one, boulders and temples everywhere, broken down palaces, baths, mosques.. stayed in a guesthouse overlooking a rice field, with sunset views and a porchswing (to quote lonely planet). rented mopeds one afternoon and drove along one of the most picturesque roads in the whole world. the world! and it wasn't so scary, except when a bus appeared on the horizon, or when i had to navigate a herd of goats. they must be the absolute stupidest animals on the planet...

bombay. so far, it's been a strange experience. strange in the way that canada is strange - so by strange i mean normal. but a normal that is only normal if you've never left the bubble that is western culture. you follow? there are indian girls here who drink beer in public and smoke, and wear tight fitting clothing. yes! and people in expensive cars, and not a rickshaw in sight. and pubs. pubs with not just men, but women too! and movie theatres on every corner, and even a nightclub that has a queer night. i ventured into the 'taj mahal' today to find the singapore airlines office, and the place was full of stores like luis vuitton, or up-market indian silk shops. and lots of rich indian men on cell phones, and badly dressed tourists talking loudly.

but it's not quite canada. there is poverty here like i've never seen. the traintrack into bombay was lined by shacks made from tin and plastic, falling down and littered with garbage. and we drove through these slums for miles and miles. strange feeling, watching all this go by from a moving train, always an observer, always on the outside of what it is to truly live in this country, what it is to be anything but a tourist, an observer.

the train ride - ah the trains. there is nothing more indian than an indian train (from my humble outsiders opinion) first came the chai-wallas, with that totally inimitable monotone recitation, then came a little boy doing circus tricks down the aisles, contorting himself and flipping end to end. then came a little boy, deformed, sweeping up the litter and then pleading for coins. then the beggar families at every stop - stroking me through the window, poking me and pointing at their empty bellies. then the blind beggars, who sing these beautiful haunting songs as they slowly slowly slowy walk one foot in front of the other down the aisle. then the uniformed samosaidlyvadasamosaidlyvada sellers, who are clearly making an hourly wage since they move like lightning and are gone before you can meekly put up your hand and say "pardon me?"

last night i went to chowpatty beach (like in a rohinton mistry book!) and ate some very delicious deep fried balls filled with chickpeas and dahl, and then a strange dish that seemed to be composed of cereal, nuts, noodles, wormy-looking things and some sauce. it was also delicious. then we pigged out on saffron and pistachio kulfi...my god. i think if i had to live off of one thing forever that would be it. we met a sikh couple who explained some of the intricacies of the dessert menu and then found out they were from surrey and own the 'kwality' store in abbotsford.

tried to sit on the beach for a while but it's hard to enjoy the scenery when there are five men in front of you trying to sell you a massage, a bag of peanuts, a chai, their first-born child... i caved and got a foot massage (he already had my foot in his grips, what could i do?). it was an interesting experience, mostly consisting of him rubbing a copper disc up and down as hard and then occasionally squeezing all my bones together and then pulling my toes out of their sockets. he kept yelling "good?! GOOD?! this good?!!" what could i do but nod and suck back my grimace?

well, on monday i'm off to udaipur. then from rajastan i go to delhi, varanasi, bodhgaya... and maybe a golden temple thrown in somewhere. i've extended my flight to bangkok until the 10th, but it's still rush rush rush and then off to southeast asia.

ok, signing off.
let's hope this works...