New blog

Yes, it is still summer. However, I am no longer traveling...so, I have a new blog.

It is mostly about my return to the western world and how I cope (or don't) with it. Thoughts, fears, hopes and dreams.

Feel free to read.

Last stop: Montreal... home... ?

One short flight (under 2 hours) and I am flying over the lights of Montreal. I look out the window and see the Olympic Stadium with the dark mass of the Botanical Gardens beside it...downtown looks so small and twee! What will it be like to walk these streets (the order of which I have nearly forgotten)?

Josh meets me at the airport - so nice to have a smiling face there to greet you (not to mention a huge hug!)

Being back in Montreal = weird

Sleeping in my own bed = weird

Knowing friends are in the same city = great, but weird

Seeing Morpheus = weird, he looks different

Walking to the shops to buy stuff to clean the house = feels like I am on holiday, or have experienced a strange time shift; it's like when I first moved to the city except I know more where things are

Trying to fix my ear problem without going to the Dr = warm water trickling down my face

Stop 15: Chicago

With leaves raining down like confetti onto the roadway, the bus sped its way to the airport. I am leaving Hawaii, heading to the mainland and that shaky sense of home. There is something ineffable about Honolulu that makes it rather attractive. I mean, it IS beautiful (I've just been spoiled). The thing is, however nice it is, I couldn't imagine living here, though those that do seem to love congratulating themselves on it, almost giving themselves one huge pat on the back (much the same as I do about Montreal I guess). It all seems a little too tinsel town to me, like the city that never grew up, basking in its balmy breezes and palm trees without looking at the natural beauty it eviscerated. This is one of the greatest tragedies of many modern cities, I fear, that they so lack the history (especially architectural) that makes older ones so much more appealing.

Just as some people profess to feeling a sense of place or...humanity in a house, for example, I believe the same can be said for larger human constructs, and Honolulu, in my eyes, feels rather empty - a shell still looking for the thing that used to fill it. That it was sold long ago for negligible profit serves general amnesia well: furthermore, what could be done about it now, anyway? This dull thud at the door of despondency/inability to make a difference once history has swept through is...universal? I wish I could think of more answers instead of questions.

Chicago, by contrast, is such a beautiful city, not in a stuffy, traditional way but a far more fun one; like an adventure playground spilled its boundaries into the adult world. Wandering around, your eyes are truly open to all a modern city can be - and is. Granted, the winters here might suck more than in Montreal (the winds, or that the 'southerners' have less kaputz than their Canuck counterparts?) but wow, this place has a lot to offer! When you're sick of architecture there are parks, museums, and the water: Lake Michigan stretching out like a sea in disguise. From the minute I landed at the airport (just like entering Melbourne), I knew I would like it here. And I plan on coming back - this before this visit is even over!

Befriended in Honolulu's Chinatown

However much I may be underwhelmed by the mass-consumption aspect of American culture, I must admit that its people are perhaps some of the friendliest I have encountered. Take this evening as an example. I had sat nearly all afternoon on the beach (the perils of a good book and a lovely setting) before deciding to do some of the things I'd decided on earlier in the day. I took The Bus towards Chinatown and wandered around the Palace grounds before crossing various highways to get to Chinatown. I'd heard it had lots of small art galleries, restaurants and bars but all I seemed to find were Irish pubs (funny how they seem to be in all parts of the world, even Hawaii's Chinatown) and a handful of dodgy characters, some of whom seemed adamant to get my attention with 'hey baby"s.

I found refuge in a busy Chinese restaurant. Sitting alone for the first time in a week I felt oddly at sea. How did I do this for close to 8 months? The servers asked me 4 times if I was ready to order before I'd even put the menu down...I felt like I was in the way but was determined to enjoy by solitary supper despite the Antarctic conditions - why can't anywhere seem to get air conditioning right? - yet to appease my nerves I got out the bus map to try to figure out how to get to my hoped destination tomorrow. I noticed an older man looking at me but presumed this was due to my idiotic non-application of sunscreen (I had not intended to spend all afternoon on the beach) and subsequent trendy panda look: very white around the eyes but red as a tomato elsewhere.

Next time I look up, there he is at my table, and offers to help me out with the map while inviting me to join him and his friend at their table. Yay! I was all too happy to have some company. It turned out that the two very friendly gentlemen were both architects, had lived in Hawaii for about 40 years and were great dinner companions, funny and interesting and constantly filling my plate with various dishes they'd ordered (although they kept declining my rice...maybe they knew something about the restaurant that I didn't?!) In the end Chris even drove me home, telling me about his family, advising on places to go and overall being such a friendly person.

Perhaps I remind people of a certain age of their children, or look oddly vulnerable with my short height and ruddy (today at least) complection*. I say this as in Kyoto I had a similar experience. Entering a sushi bar I was pointed to a seat next to other westerners (even though others were free). The girl I was sat next to exchanged some small nicety before she continued her loud (maybe drunk?) conversation with whom I deduced were a colleague and her father. There was something about her that I found abrasive and...threatening in a way. Not that she was violent - more that I felt cowed by her presence. So loud, so self-assured and confident. I wanted to have some of that same sense of purpose and the wherewithal to wear short short skirts yet still look business-womanly. However her anecdotes were mildly amusing as overheard dinner talk (was hard not to hear, I think the whole place must have reverberated with her tales of geisha spotting and other slices of Kyoto life). Just as I was wondering when my tempura plate would arrive her Dad swaps places with her and starts to apologize if their talk had disrupted my dinner... I felt bad, because it had and I had been thinking semi-uncharitable, semi-jealous things about his daughter. We proceeded to talk while we finished up our respective meals then they asked if I would like to join them for a drink. It turns out she had been teaching in Kyoto for 4 years and was heading back to the States for a month or so before going to another teaching job in Shanghai.
Going to pay for my meal, I was told that it had already been taken care of. Furthermore, her father would not allow me to repay the kindness by getting the beers at the bar we went to.

Though these acts may seem simple to those with the means and inclination to carry them out, it is such things that can really make a big impression. I don't mean so much getting the bill (which is a tremendous gesture in and of itself) but befriending a complete stranger and making them feel less of one; less alone in an unknown place, less of loose string and part of something. Sharing... I wrote a long e-mail last night which touched on this keystone to life. More on that at another time I think. For now, it is time for me to catch up on lost sleep (noisy road near the hostel, lack of companion to sleep beside, beginnings of a uti - lurvely) amid the warm feelings for strangers who become, even for the briefest of times, friends.


*I deliberated for a long time over the spelling of complection. Complexion came out first, but looked wrong. However, the British way of writing it looks wrong too. The decision on which to use was fraught with overtones of being worried about appearing prissy, stupid, and forgetting my country's way of spelling and saying things.... Still cannot decide which looks 'right', in fact I think it would be best to spell it complekshiun to really throw a spanner in the works!*

First steps back in the West

Although my travels are not strictly over yet, upon arrival in Hawaii I am no longer in the East - I have been catapulted in a metal cylinder towards the west and all it holds. After Japan's concrete jungle, the young verdant islands of Hawaii are like heaven on earth. However, the strange feeling of displacement starts at Narita airport. The Star Alliance airlines seem to occupy one set of gates and during the interminable wait for the plane to board I am surrounded by American accents, brattish children, all emitting a level of sound rather unheard of before, even in Tokyo. Landing in Honolulu is similarly strange, but this time because no-one seems to smile... perhaps because I am nothing new - there are white people everywhere - but it strikes me hard. Everyone seems so surly and, regardless of the State's infamous friendliness, I am left feeling like a piece of dirt more than a welcome visitor.

The drive from Hilo airport to Kona is beautiful; there are waterfalls, spectacular vistas and we pass through rain forests, tundra and strange other-worldly landscapes on the two and a half hour journey. Stopping for shaved ice at a small shop I walk to the back to buy a drink and am confronted by 3 refrigerators full of various options on the same theme. It is overwhelming...I have no idea where there is so much choice and grapple with it all while my eyes boggle. Today I had a similar yet far more extreme feeling at the supermarket in Kona. The aisles full of jars and packets and styrofoam containers containing the same things in different forms. How could we need all this stuff? Why can I buy 4 or 5 themes on the same cereal, multiplied by 3 and sold under 6 different brand names? It seems such a waste of time and energy, not only the production of all this...excess, but the energy it takes to decide which of these products to buy. No wonder advertising is such big business - with so much to choose from at basically very similar quality levels, we need a differentiating factor that talks to us on a deeper level. Does it make me happy? Will it keep me healthy? Will it show me as cool? I find it so hard to believe that I was once capable of going into such huge cathedrals to produce and consumption and finding what I wanted among the shelves. I cannot imagine being capable of doing it again for a long time. A new thought: how can such a place be made to be as uninviting as most supermarkets are? The harsh electric lighting, the clinical feel with the items all wrapped in plastic and stored like bodies in a morgue. As cold as a morgue too, so you feel like you need to wrap up or bustle about just to keep your body temperature normal.

On a similar note, I am currently watching The Food Network; some show is on about cakes... the concept seems to be that you give people a theme and they have to make a cake based on it. Today's show is about Ice Age (the film) I think. What strikes me most is that the emphasis is on cake design - making a cake that is huge and looks just like a cartoon character but with no focus at all on how tasty, let alone edible, the cake may be. Maybe this is what life is all about these days - appearances. Who cares if the inside makes you lick your lips for more, who cares if it is good for you or something you treat yourself to every now and then? We've got the technology to take the fat out of things and inject flavour into protein powder. Go on, all the cool kids are eating it!

Narita, on the way to Hawaii

Grinning madly, unable to stop this slow yet wild smile spreading across my face, I arrive at Narita Airport, ready to catapult myself into Western society - Hawaii here I come! I woke up this morning and my lips were already forming this smile. And here I sit, trying not to laugh, having skipped through parts of the airport in joy at the prospect of seeing you and sure that people around me fear for my sanity. But not caring. I've waited for this day for months. At times I thought it would never come. But those are words and sentiments you know, and will soon be no more :) Sitting here with hours of sitting ahead of me, my mind is dancing.

So... Japan. I think that really I may have been too harsh a judge on this ancient, intriguing country. It seemed so sterile and robotic after S.E. Asia, so utterly alien and strangely devoid of life. This feeling was probably accentuated by the Japanese mentality - that very contained yet oddly non-egocentric way of doing things. Go on the subway as a gaijin (foreigner) and experience other passengers moving away from you (when possible) even sometimes opting to stand rather than sit in the seat next to you. Experience the sometimes infuriating prompt disappearance of signs in English (Kyoto was best for this) and the wonderful Engrish: great misuse of the English language, best seen on t-shirts, random signs and restaurant menus.

See, I think I did love Japan with all its oddities yet was also rather nonplussed by it. After the overabundance of vitality in S.E. Asia, I think most countries would be somewhat of a...not let-down but certainly rather lacking in vibrancy. It does make me wonder what Montreal will seem like... Further along these lines, I've been slightly disturbed by the thought that Montreal may not feel like home anymore when I get back. The city and its inhabitant will not have changed much, but I have. Perhaps really it is my priorities and I really, truly no longer want to do jobs I do not enjoy, or that drain me of the will to be creative. I do concede that that could have been due to my outlook on life in general after years of feeling like I could not get where I wanted, years of feeling like trapped. It is interesting, yet not surprising to fully comprehend that a lot of that was probably in my own mind. Many of us are trapped by ourselves more than we realise. So, the key thing here for me is to keep from not falling back into those negative, destructive mindsets.

While I'm typing, one of the most annoying, persistent children I've yet encountered (on this trip) has been continuously asking what time it is, shouting at his Mum to do things for him, demanding his sister turn the volume up on the mp3 player whose earphone they're sharing. He must be bored out of his skull!
Whereas...I am excited. So happy at the thought of seeing you, of being on these gorgeous islands, of being surrounded by nature again instead of the seemingly never-ending concrete jungle of central Japan. I would be happy not to eat rice for another few months. I would be happy to be able to strike up a conversation with locals. I would be happy, am happy to know that my return to Montreal is imminent, or at least far closer.
Bizarrely, I am happy to think of the challenges that lie ahead: getting a job, making a career for myself, deciding what to do with my life (would think I'd at least have some idea by now). I'm happy at the thought of seeing my dear friends - it's been so long. Of stroking Morpheus and seeing his purry face in the morning. But the thing that's fuelling this smile the most, the one that even as I write keeps coming and going, fading out and whamming back in again, that I cannot help but feel is helping to radiate this happiness from me, is the knowledge that, very soon (in under 12 hours!) I will be seeing you. Will be able to hear your voice, see you, feel you there. Laughing, talking, smiling. Just being. This makes me jump and skip and grin like a rather addled monkey.

Another side of Asia: Stop 13, Tokyo

I was thinking that Tokyo would be overwhelming, this vast city (the metropolitan area has over 35 million inhabitants) seemed rather intimidating after what was now the relative known of South East Asia. How many people would speak English, how much of the signage would I understand - or not? In the end, Tokyo seems oddly like the western world - and so very quiet! So clean and calm. Where are the people setting up cooking stoves in the middle of the pavement, where are the children running around, the motorbikes beeping and hooting all over the place, the colours, the noise, the litter, the life? It is so clinical in comparison with Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos etc. that it seems a bit like a ghost town. What I thought would be overwhelming is instead very calm and rather odd...it feels a little bit dead.

This however I am putting down to being exceedingly tired - my flight left Hanoi at 11:30pm and flew in to Narita around 6:30am. Just over 5 hours flying time was filled with the very talkative Vietnamese man next to me asking numerous questions and making conversation, which was nice but when I apologised and said I was tired and needed to sleep the questions continued regardless... oh well, it was nice to have a connection with another person on their way to an as yet unknown city. I am relishing the calm collectedness of this island country and intend to explore it's capital more tomorrow....