Due to the current political environment my business has decided to buy tickets for all teachers who are not re-signing and are leaving in the next three months. I fall into this category so I was asked to tell them what date I wanted to return home after my teaching contract was up. My ticket was bought and paid for within 24 hours of telling them the date and they even took suggestions on what airline to fly me back home on.
I will be flying into Portland International Airport on Monday August 3rd at around 4p.m. My good friend Alex claims that he will pick me up at the airport but I think we can guess how that will turn out. So I'm asking some of you (Toby, Monica, Caitlin, Teresa, etc. to please mark that day on your calendar and have access to a car as I will most likely be calling you for a ride from the airport. It would suck to touch foot on American soil and have one of my first acts be to stuff my foot up Al's ass.
Anyways, I am very excited about my pending return and I cannot wait to spend quality time with my friends. The plan so far is that I will be taking a solo trip somewhere around southeast Asia two weeks before I fly home but there have been some complications to that plan. I might end up in Mongolia after all. Yes, that's right, Mongolia. We'll have to wait and see. In the mean while, time continues to tick by and I'm counting my days. I have never had so many job opportunities without really looking in my life, but it's time for me to go, at least for now.
People keep asking me what I'm going to do when I go home and I tell them I have no idea. It seems to make some people uncomfortable but I'm hoping something speaks to me when I get back. I'm going to fly back to Michigan to visit family in September and then I'm going to fly down to L.A. soon after that to visit old friends and remind myself why I left there so many years ago. The risk of visiting L.A. is that I might stay and I think some of my friends down there have a plan to convince me. I'm going to leave myself open to all options when I get back though. I've got friends in Chicago who make a strong case and I do love Chicago.
I think I'm going to take a month or two and just relax, hang out and re-adjust myself. Portland is such a great place to do all of these things. If I can find a job that interests me in Portland then I'll stay there for at least a year. One day, either soon or later I will go back overseas to work though. I'm sure of that. In the mean time, I've got some peeps I've made here who are leaving around the same time as me and are planning to come visit me in October and November. I guess I've talked up Portland so much that now I'm gonna have to prove it. And at some point I'm going to have to make it up to Canada about 2 hours north of Winnipeg and visit my very special friend, her husband and their newborn boy or girl, she's due at the end of this month.
Needless to say I've already got plans on top of plans, and somewhere in all that mess I'm going to look for a job at some point and find a place to rent. Thinking about all this brings one hell of a smile to my face. I really do love being alive...even when it sucks there's still that potential of things looking up.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
What does it take?
Okay. Some people might take this the wrong way but I'm sure the majority of you will understand what I'm getting at. With recent events I'm pressed to ask the question, "What does it take for White People to be labelled as terrorist?" I've been talking to some of my friends around here and other back home about some of the violent acts going on in the United States right now. There's the shameful case of the doctor (that's what he was) who was murdered in his church by a man claiming to be on the side of God and the millions upon millions of unborn children. A man who by the way has not admitted to killing this doctor, even though there were many witnesses to the act. Then there is the case of the old ass man who walked into the holocaust museum, with the intention of killing himself some Jews I imagine, and managed to kill one guard (African-American, Black, etc.) before getting himself capped by two other security guards at the museum.
Besides being white both these men belonged to established influential groups. One was a white supremacist and the other belonged to several different anti-abortion groups. I would say they are "pro-life" groups but that's obviously, not the case. Both crimes are sad and apparently both crimes could have been prevented had people done their jobs and enforced the laws of the United States. I'm going to spend most of my time talking about this Scott Roeder character. He's the guy who shot the doctor for doing what is considered legal in the United States. He's the guy who seems to becoming somewhat of a hero in parts of the anti-abortion community. The reason I'm not going to spend much time on the 88 year old white supremacist dude is because he and his group are more honest about what they are. The don't like Jews, they don't like blacks and they want to live in a country that protects God fearing white people from the savagery of those other folks. I got it. I can roll with that. These men and women are on the losing end of history. They will never succeed in their goals and their time has passed. I know some people believe the "race war" is coming one day but I am not one of those people.
But then there's this Roeder motherfucker. He apparently wants to protect women against themselves. He doesn't care what the law says and he doesn't care about self determination. The groups that he belonged to and the groups that he had contact with get support from all over the country. There are silent supporters in the United States government and I'm sure people are denouncing the act in public and smiling in their private lives. The murdered doctors clinic will not reopen apparently. Which actually means this act of terrorism worked. Roeder and his other anti-abortion people got just what they wanted through their acts of violence. How are they different then the people who blow up airplanes and bring buildings crashing to the earth. Where is the outrage that these acts deserve? Where are our leaders denouncing these acts as "evil" and "cowardly"?
Where are the voices that echo so loud when acts like these are done by someone with a strange name that begins with Muhammad? What does it take for people to fear white men? What does it take for the authorities to start profiling white men with all American features? They have been known to blow up buildings in states such as Oklahoma. They have been known walk into schools and start shooting people while throwing home made bombs all over the place. They have been known to hold the nations highest office and start wars over false information.
Where is the fear when Scott Roeder announces this is only the beginning of such acts? How should we proceed in getting more information from this violent person who has extremist views and shares those views with a larger population of people? During this next political election cycle will it harm someone running for office to say they are against abortion? Will people cringe at these words? Will it hurt someone if it comes out that they gave money to an anti-abortion foundation?
Of course not! And it shouldn't. Just like it shouldn't scare people to find out someone running for office is a Muslim or has Muslim ties. No one will, nor should they ever consider torturing this Scott Roeder motherfucker. Torture is simply unacceptable for all human beings, even Scott fucking Roeder. This is the United States of America and one thing I've learned while being away so long is that I really do live in a great country. We need to hold our countries ideals to a higher standard than they have been. We all have blood on our hands. I have a responsibility to question the choices my government makes and I have a right to point out the mistakes I believe have and are taking place. That is what being an American is all about. So when I bring up the fact that the war in Iraq has cost many more Iraqi's their lives than it has Americans I'm not saying I hate the military, I'm pointing out a fact in which our media and our government doesn't seem to like to talk about. The same is and will be true when things start heating up more in Afghanistan.
So when I ask the question, "What does it take for white people in the United States to get labelled as terrorists" don't laugh it off because it's a serious question that deserves some serious thought. Perhaps in answering this question people might start to see how ridiculous some of our choices have been in the past decade or so.
Besides being white both these men belonged to established influential groups. One was a white supremacist and the other belonged to several different anti-abortion groups. I would say they are "pro-life" groups but that's obviously, not the case. Both crimes are sad and apparently both crimes could have been prevented had people done their jobs and enforced the laws of the United States. I'm going to spend most of my time talking about this Scott Roeder character. He's the guy who shot the doctor for doing what is considered legal in the United States. He's the guy who seems to becoming somewhat of a hero in parts of the anti-abortion community. The reason I'm not going to spend much time on the 88 year old white supremacist dude is because he and his group are more honest about what they are. The don't like Jews, they don't like blacks and they want to live in a country that protects God fearing white people from the savagery of those other folks. I got it. I can roll with that. These men and women are on the losing end of history. They will never succeed in their goals and their time has passed. I know some people believe the "race war" is coming one day but I am not one of those people.
But then there's this Roeder motherfucker. He apparently wants to protect women against themselves. He doesn't care what the law says and he doesn't care about self determination. The groups that he belonged to and the groups that he had contact with get support from all over the country. There are silent supporters in the United States government and I'm sure people are denouncing the act in public and smiling in their private lives. The murdered doctors clinic will not reopen apparently. Which actually means this act of terrorism worked. Roeder and his other anti-abortion people got just what they wanted through their acts of violence. How are they different then the people who blow up airplanes and bring buildings crashing to the earth. Where is the outrage that these acts deserve? Where are our leaders denouncing these acts as "evil" and "cowardly"?
Where are the voices that echo so loud when acts like these are done by someone with a strange name that begins with Muhammad? What does it take for people to fear white men? What does it take for the authorities to start profiling white men with all American features? They have been known to blow up buildings in states such as Oklahoma. They have been known walk into schools and start shooting people while throwing home made bombs all over the place. They have been known to hold the nations highest office and start wars over false information.
Where is the fear when Scott Roeder announces this is only the beginning of such acts? How should we proceed in getting more information from this violent person who has extremist views and shares those views with a larger population of people? During this next political election cycle will it harm someone running for office to say they are against abortion? Will people cringe at these words? Will it hurt someone if it comes out that they gave money to an anti-abortion foundation?
Of course not! And it shouldn't. Just like it shouldn't scare people to find out someone running for office is a Muslim or has Muslim ties. No one will, nor should they ever consider torturing this Scott Roeder motherfucker. Torture is simply unacceptable for all human beings, even Scott fucking Roeder. This is the United States of America and one thing I've learned while being away so long is that I really do live in a great country. We need to hold our countries ideals to a higher standard than they have been. We all have blood on our hands. I have a responsibility to question the choices my government makes and I have a right to point out the mistakes I believe have and are taking place. That is what being an American is all about. So when I bring up the fact that the war in Iraq has cost many more Iraqi's their lives than it has Americans I'm not saying I hate the military, I'm pointing out a fact in which our media and our government doesn't seem to like to talk about. The same is and will be true when things start heating up more in Afghanistan.
So when I ask the question, "What does it take for white people in the United States to get labelled as terrorists" don't laugh it off because it's a serious question that deserves some serious thought. Perhaps in answering this question people might start to see how ridiculous some of our choices have been in the past decade or so.
Part V.
A "worry wart." That's what he was. He tended to worry about everything and not in an entertaining Woody Allen kind of way. He had been raised to worry about things. From going outside to eating food, he had learned to worry from an early age. "Is that chicken cooked all the way through?" In his pre-teen years he believed that every time he left the safety of his house that he might never return. A car could run him over. A crazed child molester could kidnap him while he was playing with his friends around the neighborhood. The different ways in which a young boy could meet his maker were endless. Although the years has softened his edge somewhat the worry still remained a part of his person. This worry would eventually morph. into the serious trust issues he currently housed inside of himself.
He didn't want to worry about everything any more. It had never really helped him anyways. Things happened, both good and bad, regardless if he spent time worrying about them or not. He was still here. He could still feel. He was still alive. He had outgrown the small child who worried about all things bad. It was time to let go. It was time to allow space for something new. He was alone. He was living in a foreign country. He was growing.
He didn't want to worry about everything any more. It had never really helped him anyways. Things happened, both good and bad, regardless if he spent time worrying about them or not. He was still here. He could still feel. He was still alive. He had outgrown the small child who worried about all things bad. It was time to let go. It was time to allow space for something new. He was alone. He was living in a foreign country. He was growing.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Rant Rant Rant
I was speaking with a friend today and we got to talking about words. The language of words and how naming something can change peoples reaction to it. I brought up torture because it's been in the news for such a long time. The "false debate" continues to run through the news cycles about "is water boarding torture or not?" The short answer to this question is "yes." I told my friend that asking if water boarding is torture is the wrong question. I believe it's a way of getting people to focus their time and energy on something that will yield no results. Everybody knows water boarding is torture, even the people who say it's not torture no it is. I honestly believe this. They simply don't want to name it but they no the truth within themselves.
I guess for legal purposes some people in our government may shy away from the term torture like they shy away from the term genocide. But, torture is torture no matter how you dress it up. You can call it "enhanced shower taking" or whatever they were calling it during the Bush Administration but it's still torture. The leaders of the world can sit in a air-conditioned room and watch videos of mass grave sites. They can hear first hand testimony from people who escaped mass murder on genocidal levels taking place in their country. These seem leaders can then decide not to label what the just saw and heard genocide but that doesn't change the fact that it is genocide. They know what's going on in these places is genocide just like we know that water boarding is torture.
Words do not change the action of the thing. Thousands of people have been wiped off the face of the planet, on purpose. Okay? Don't call it genocide. Does that mean you can't do anything about what's going on? Does that make these actions (murder, rape, brainwashing, etc.) any less horrifying? Does forcing water into someones lungs while they are strapped down seem any less torturous by not calling it torture? Does not calling it torture make it okay? We should be more concerned about the actions than the words. This is actually how I pick the people I spend time with. I pay more attention to what they do. The kind of person they are. Someone can smile and say hello to you but that doesn't mean they have a good character. I know many a person who knows just the right thing to say but behaves in ways that turns the stomach.
Apparently you can claim you're in the "pro-life" camp and then shoot someone in the head who performs abortions. Then I guess you can remain in the pro-life came and cheer the assassination, bombing and harassment of something that is legally protected in the United fucking States of America! I just killed someone but I'm pro-life. You're going to burn in hell and I hope you die, did I tell you I'm pro-life? I always feel strange talking about abortion because I will never know what it is like to have one. All I can say is that it is a deeply personal decision and I believe whole heartily in a woman's right to choose medical procedures concerning her body. I am curious though, and I don't know the stats on this, how many "pro-choicer's" have blown up the work place of pro-lifers? How many have walked into a church and shot a pro-lifer in the head?
I've been listening to a lot of alternative news lately on the Internet and the frustration is getting to be overwhelming. I'm remembering quickly why I stopped watching the news and listening to Internet radio in the first place. But then I think to myself that I'm giving up and washing my hands of the current reality. But when I find out things like one of my best friends is getting married in July or that my brother and his wife will be having their second child early next year I can't wash my hands of anything. As frustrating as it is change really does have to start somewhere right? As cheesy as that sounds.
Obama had a good message but he's having a difficult time convincing me he's not just another politician. But, that's actually exactly what he is, a politician. Is it possible to get into a position of power and influence without selling a piece of your soul? If the answer is "yes" then where the fuck are these men and women? When Obama won the election I wrote that he would for sure disappoint because it would be impossible not to. I was never in awe or in love with him. I think he is miles and miles ahead of what we've had sitting in the White House but that doesn't mean I'm complacent.
His whole "looking forward" message is bullshit! Yeah, I said it. It's bullshit. Of course, we need to look forward as a nation, as a country, as a people but does that mean all is forgotten? Hell no! People have to be held responsible for their actions. Isn't that what justice is? Looking forward does not mean that you cannot question the choices of the past. It does not mean you can't investigate the sincerity of what was said and how events unfolded. And it for damn sure doesn't mean that you can't bring people before the LAWS of the land and hold them to answer for what they have done. But I guess some businesses are too big to fail and some people are to powerful to be held responsible for anything they have done. That's not the kind of society I want to live in and it's not the kind of world I want my second niece or nephew to grow up in.
I just had to vent for a little bit. I can feel myself getting more and more annoyed so I think it's time for me to end this blog. And don't even get me started on marriage. I'm calling it marriage because it doesn't matter if someone is gay or not, it's still fucking marriage. We are just not allowing people to marry because they are gay. I'll just say one thing on this topic and then I'll really be done. I can't help being a black person and a gay person can't help being gay. I didn't choose to be black (although I thank the universe every day I am...I've been watching all the white people here tan on their days off and I'm so glad I can spend my time doing other things. Side note: Why do white people always have to show each other their tans when they are done? And why do they love to put their now tan are up against mine and say "I'm almost as dark as you?" No your not! You're not even close to being as dark as me.....you're white!) Black people used to be punished for simply being who they were born to be, that's why I think I get more frustrated with people of color who support oppressing gay folk. Imagine in this day and time if someone got on the television or the radio and said something like "I believe marriage is for white people". The point is so fucking obvious it doesn't even seem like it needs to be said. And before you reach for the bible black folk remember that that same bible was used to justify your great great great grandparents being systematically oppressed.
I guess for legal purposes some people in our government may shy away from the term torture like they shy away from the term genocide. But, torture is torture no matter how you dress it up. You can call it "enhanced shower taking" or whatever they were calling it during the Bush Administration but it's still torture. The leaders of the world can sit in a air-conditioned room and watch videos of mass grave sites. They can hear first hand testimony from people who escaped mass murder on genocidal levels taking place in their country. These seem leaders can then decide not to label what the just saw and heard genocide but that doesn't change the fact that it is genocide. They know what's going on in these places is genocide just like we know that water boarding is torture.
Words do not change the action of the thing. Thousands of people have been wiped off the face of the planet, on purpose. Okay? Don't call it genocide. Does that mean you can't do anything about what's going on? Does that make these actions (murder, rape, brainwashing, etc.) any less horrifying? Does forcing water into someones lungs while they are strapped down seem any less torturous by not calling it torture? Does not calling it torture make it okay? We should be more concerned about the actions than the words. This is actually how I pick the people I spend time with. I pay more attention to what they do. The kind of person they are. Someone can smile and say hello to you but that doesn't mean they have a good character. I know many a person who knows just the right thing to say but behaves in ways that turns the stomach.
Apparently you can claim you're in the "pro-life" camp and then shoot someone in the head who performs abortions. Then I guess you can remain in the pro-life came and cheer the assassination, bombing and harassment of something that is legally protected in the United fucking States of America! I just killed someone but I'm pro-life. You're going to burn in hell and I hope you die, did I tell you I'm pro-life? I always feel strange talking about abortion because I will never know what it is like to have one. All I can say is that it is a deeply personal decision and I believe whole heartily in a woman's right to choose medical procedures concerning her body. I am curious though, and I don't know the stats on this, how many "pro-choicer's" have blown up the work place of pro-lifers? How many have walked into a church and shot a pro-lifer in the head?
I've been listening to a lot of alternative news lately on the Internet and the frustration is getting to be overwhelming. I'm remembering quickly why I stopped watching the news and listening to Internet radio in the first place. But then I think to myself that I'm giving up and washing my hands of the current reality. But when I find out things like one of my best friends is getting married in July or that my brother and his wife will be having their second child early next year I can't wash my hands of anything. As frustrating as it is change really does have to start somewhere right? As cheesy as that sounds.
Obama had a good message but he's having a difficult time convincing me he's not just another politician. But, that's actually exactly what he is, a politician. Is it possible to get into a position of power and influence without selling a piece of your soul? If the answer is "yes" then where the fuck are these men and women? When Obama won the election I wrote that he would for sure disappoint because it would be impossible not to. I was never in awe or in love with him. I think he is miles and miles ahead of what we've had sitting in the White House but that doesn't mean I'm complacent.
His whole "looking forward" message is bullshit! Yeah, I said it. It's bullshit. Of course, we need to look forward as a nation, as a country, as a people but does that mean all is forgotten? Hell no! People have to be held responsible for their actions. Isn't that what justice is? Looking forward does not mean that you cannot question the choices of the past. It does not mean you can't investigate the sincerity of what was said and how events unfolded. And it for damn sure doesn't mean that you can't bring people before the LAWS of the land and hold them to answer for what they have done. But I guess some businesses are too big to fail and some people are to powerful to be held responsible for anything they have done. That's not the kind of society I want to live in and it's not the kind of world I want my second niece or nephew to grow up in.
I just had to vent for a little bit. I can feel myself getting more and more annoyed so I think it's time for me to end this blog. And don't even get me started on marriage. I'm calling it marriage because it doesn't matter if someone is gay or not, it's still fucking marriage. We are just not allowing people to marry because they are gay. I'll just say one thing on this topic and then I'll really be done. I can't help being a black person and a gay person can't help being gay. I didn't choose to be black (although I thank the universe every day I am...I've been watching all the white people here tan on their days off and I'm so glad I can spend my time doing other things. Side note: Why do white people always have to show each other their tans when they are done? And why do they love to put their now tan are up against mine and say "I'm almost as dark as you?" No your not! You're not even close to being as dark as me.....you're white!) Black people used to be punished for simply being who they were born to be, that's why I think I get more frustrated with people of color who support oppressing gay folk. Imagine in this day and time if someone got on the television or the radio and said something like "I believe marriage is for white people". The point is so fucking obvious it doesn't even seem like it needs to be said. And before you reach for the bible black folk remember that that same bible was used to justify your great great great grandparents being systematically oppressed.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Part IV.
He was in a funk. That much he knew. He couldn't say he was homesick because he wasn't. He had only experienced homesickness one time and that was his first year as an undergraduate in Colorado. It lasted for exactly one month during football season. He didn't want to play any more. The game had lost it's flavor for him. He didn't want to study, he didn't want to talk to anyone he just wanted to go home and sleep in his bed. He ended up flying back to Michigan for a week soon after. His grandfather had recently died although he missed the funeral he decided to go home for a visit. While back at home he saw familiar faces in the crowd and had familiar conversations with them. In a few days he found that he missed looking outside his dorm window and seeing Pikes Peak. He missed walking around the campus and sitting on the bleachers reading a book or watching the sun go down. He never got homesick again. No, he wasn't homesick now. He was bored. He got bored easily and he always had. This presented its share of problems in his life. "The things we do when we get bored", he thought.
Korea was interesting but it had lost its uniqueness a while ago. He had been to the temples, he had seen the mountains (going to school in Colorado had ruined all mountains for him), he had seen the things that people go to Korea to see and now it was time for something different. "What now?" He had plans in the works to start travelling through the rest of Asia but what would he do with the rest of his time in Korea? Then he remembered. People are natural resources that never run out. He enjoyed stories and every body has a story to tell. You just have to know how to ask the right questions to get them to share. You have to be available to listen, so that's what he did. He listened to the stories that were all around him. The boredom evaporated like a puddle in July.
Korea was interesting but it had lost its uniqueness a while ago. He had been to the temples, he had seen the mountains (going to school in Colorado had ruined all mountains for him), he had seen the things that people go to Korea to see and now it was time for something different. "What now?" He had plans in the works to start travelling through the rest of Asia but what would he do with the rest of his time in Korea? Then he remembered. People are natural resources that never run out. He enjoyed stories and every body has a story to tell. You just have to know how to ask the right questions to get them to share. You have to be available to listen, so that's what he did. He listened to the stories that were all around him. The boredom evaporated like a puddle in July.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Part III.
He had and probably always would be a man who liked the truth. The truth was very important to him. But, it took him some time to understand that the truth was not absolute. He started to understand that it was honesty he was attracted to. The truth was nice, the truth was an ideal, but honesty is what got his attention. Honesty is hard and honest people should not be taken for granted. This much he knew. The longer he remained in Korea the more he realized he had spent many years being dishonest with himself. That was going to change sooner than he had expected. He remembered, "Honesty is hard."
His days became formulaic at work. He fell into a pattern and became restless. What did he want? He wanted something more but he didn't know what it was. So, he started to take little trips around Korea by himself. He would get on a bus or a train and travel to a city or a town he had never been to. He would get off at his destination and simply walk around. A private person by nature, he was uncomfortably always the focus of attention as he walked around. The smaller towns were the worst. Living in a country that is over 95% ethnically the same can present different challenges when you fall into that 5% category. He decided that the bubble he walked within needed to be popped if he was going to survive in this country of starers and pointers. He walked through neighborhoods and smiled at small children who froze in place when they saw him coming. The more curious ones would practice their English. "Hello", they would say. "Hello", he would reply. Once they realized he could talk the other children would attack him with the English words they knew. Like ravenous sharks they would tear the English from his body. In time he would get used to these events and sometimes enjoy them.
The more he hung out with the new friends he was making the more he realized how much he had changed. The more he talked to his friends back home the more he realized how lucky he was to have them in his life. He was changing and he was bringing them along for the ride. His girlfriend had been in Korea for over half a year and their time together was spent sparingly. It took a buses, subways, trains and taxi cabs to bring them together. He began to realize that they could have lived down the street from each other and they still would have been a universe apart. Things were different. Things had been different for a long time now. For the first time he was being honest with himself. They didn't belong together. A few months later they would break up over the phone and never see each other again. It would be an uneventful departure. Like the air leaving a balloon it would simply shrink until there was nothing left, not even hard feelings.
A month before the break up he would buy her a new digital camera. He knew she enjoyed taking pictures and he wanted to see her smile one last time. By this time he knew the ship was sinking and it was only a matter of time until it sank into the depths of the ocean. His new friends didn't understand why he would spend so much money on a person he was one conversation away from breaking up with (mutually). His old friends never questioned the gift. His old friends knew better. He couldn't fault his new friends for their confusion and what seemed to be frustration with his gesture. They had never met her. They had never witnessed her smile. Almost a year after the break up (mutual) he would go shopping for a digital camera for himself. He wanted to get a nice camera before he returned to the states. As he was testing out the different cameras he would think about her taking pictures and seeing the world through her unique lens. He would feel a twinge of sadness which would quickly be replaced with a smile.
His days became formulaic at work. He fell into a pattern and became restless. What did he want? He wanted something more but he didn't know what it was. So, he started to take little trips around Korea by himself. He would get on a bus or a train and travel to a city or a town he had never been to. He would get off at his destination and simply walk around. A private person by nature, he was uncomfortably always the focus of attention as he walked around. The smaller towns were the worst. Living in a country that is over 95% ethnically the same can present different challenges when you fall into that 5% category. He decided that the bubble he walked within needed to be popped if he was going to survive in this country of starers and pointers. He walked through neighborhoods and smiled at small children who froze in place when they saw him coming. The more curious ones would practice their English. "Hello", they would say. "Hello", he would reply. Once they realized he could talk the other children would attack him with the English words they knew. Like ravenous sharks they would tear the English from his body. In time he would get used to these events and sometimes enjoy them.
The more he hung out with the new friends he was making the more he realized how much he had changed. The more he talked to his friends back home the more he realized how lucky he was to have them in his life. He was changing and he was bringing them along for the ride. His girlfriend had been in Korea for over half a year and their time together was spent sparingly. It took a buses, subways, trains and taxi cabs to bring them together. He began to realize that they could have lived down the street from each other and they still would have been a universe apart. Things were different. Things had been different for a long time now. For the first time he was being honest with himself. They didn't belong together. A few months later they would break up over the phone and never see each other again. It would be an uneventful departure. Like the air leaving a balloon it would simply shrink until there was nothing left, not even hard feelings.
A month before the break up he would buy her a new digital camera. He knew she enjoyed taking pictures and he wanted to see her smile one last time. By this time he knew the ship was sinking and it was only a matter of time until it sank into the depths of the ocean. His new friends didn't understand why he would spend so much money on a person he was one conversation away from breaking up with (mutually). His old friends never questioned the gift. His old friends knew better. He couldn't fault his new friends for their confusion and what seemed to be frustration with his gesture. They had never met her. They had never witnessed her smile. Almost a year after the break up (mutual) he would go shopping for a digital camera for himself. He wanted to get a nice camera before he returned to the states. As he was testing out the different cameras he would think about her taking pictures and seeing the world through her unique lens. He would feel a twinge of sadness which would quickly be replaced with a smile.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Part II.
He woke up to find he had been in Korea for three months. It wasn't anything like he had expected it to be. For some reason he had convinced himself he was going to travel back in time when he left Oregon. He was going to travel to a time and place where things were simple and fresh. Korea was not simple and it was not fresh. It was old, but it had new veins running all over its landscape. They could teach the United States a thing or two about technology that was for sure. He didn't have to worry if he started to yearn for something western because Korea had decided it was a good idea to put a Dunkin Doughnuts or a Baskin Robins every 100 feet in the city. But lucky for him he did not live in the city, he had to take an hour long bus ride to get into the city. Some days it wouldn't feel lucky but a year later he would be thankful for it.
His job wasn't what he thought it would be either. It was a job just like all the others, except this time, it was in Korea. "What exactly do you want to do with your life?" He will ask himself this question for the next year and a half. He would get the know the people he had been working with very well. Some he would like to forget and some would become a part of his story. His friend pool was expanding and for the first time in his life he didn't put up dams. He started to ask himself "What would I normally do?" and he would do the opposite. It felt good to step out of himself but something never change. He could still spot an asshole a mile away. He thought it was funny that no matter what country people are from there will always be assholes. He had made three good friends in just as many months.
The first two were men and this was something new for him. He'd known nearly all of his guy friends since diapers so making new male friends was a big deal for him. These two friends would remain his friends for the entire time he stayed in Korea. He suspected they would remain his friends long after that too. The third friend was a female from South Africa. She reminded him of a girl he knew in middle school and he liked her instantly. She liked to borrow things (books, plates, shirts, etc.) from him and not return them for weeks at a time. They remained at her place until he noticed them while eating dinner at one of her many "food/people" sessions. "Hey, is that mine?" he would ask. "Yeah, I meant to give that back to you" was her standard answer. She would bring him back a cheetah print muscle shirt from South Africa a year later. She would tell him that all the black Africans (he forgot there were white africans) wear them and that he should get in touch with his roots. This statement would make him laugh every time he thought about it from then on.
He would attempt to learn Korean but would never give it his all. He was different. He had always been different but now he was different without rules. Being differnet in the United States is not like being different in Korea. Being different here meant people would point, laugh, touch and smell and on one occasion a little girl, no older than seven, would stick out her tiny tongue and lick his arm. She would think he was made of chocolate and since she liked chocolate she would try to taste him. This incident would make him famous among his new group of friends.
He had not been in Korea half a year yet but he felt change happening all around him. He felt it inside of him too. This adventure would change his person and decided to sit back and float down the river for a while. It felt so good to let the river do all the work.
His job wasn't what he thought it would be either. It was a job just like all the others, except this time, it was in Korea. "What exactly do you want to do with your life?" He will ask himself this question for the next year and a half. He would get the know the people he had been working with very well. Some he would like to forget and some would become a part of his story. His friend pool was expanding and for the first time in his life he didn't put up dams. He started to ask himself "What would I normally do?" and he would do the opposite. It felt good to step out of himself but something never change. He could still spot an asshole a mile away. He thought it was funny that no matter what country people are from there will always be assholes. He had made three good friends in just as many months.
The first two were men and this was something new for him. He'd known nearly all of his guy friends since diapers so making new male friends was a big deal for him. These two friends would remain his friends for the entire time he stayed in Korea. He suspected they would remain his friends long after that too. The third friend was a female from South Africa. She reminded him of a girl he knew in middle school and he liked her instantly. She liked to borrow things (books, plates, shirts, etc.) from him and not return them for weeks at a time. They remained at her place until he noticed them while eating dinner at one of her many "food/people" sessions. "Hey, is that mine?" he would ask. "Yeah, I meant to give that back to you" was her standard answer. She would bring him back a cheetah print muscle shirt from South Africa a year later. She would tell him that all the black Africans (he forgot there were white africans) wear them and that he should get in touch with his roots. This statement would make him laugh every time he thought about it from then on.
He would attempt to learn Korean but would never give it his all. He was different. He had always been different but now he was different without rules. Being differnet in the United States is not like being different in Korea. Being different here meant people would point, laugh, touch and smell and on one occasion a little girl, no older than seven, would stick out her tiny tongue and lick his arm. She would think he was made of chocolate and since she liked chocolate she would try to taste him. This incident would make him famous among his new group of friends.
He had not been in Korea half a year yet but he felt change happening all around him. He felt it inside of him too. This adventure would change his person and decided to sit back and float down the river for a while. It felt so good to let the river do all the work.
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