Thursday, December 30, 2004
I bought my ticket! Chicago to Accra, Ghana. Sunday, February 6th.
I decided that a complicated credit card mishap in the process of buying the ticket was not a signal from above that I shouldn’t go. It’s a one-way ticket, so that leaves me free to play things by ear. Before, it was all in my mind, but now the money’s been put on the line. I’m going. I’m really going.
You’d think I’d be used to it by now, all this travel and moving. I’m sure that packing will be easier. I’m only taking a big hiking backpack. There are still other procedural things to take care of: the visa, travel insurance. Further attempts to establish Iowa-Ghana or Yale-Ghana or Fulbright-Ghana contacts. I get occasional bouts of “what am I doing?!?!?,” brought on by my realization that I know no one in Ghana and have no real idea what it will be like. But with the past two years under my belt, I’m more excited about possibilities than immobilized by anxiety.
Peace Corps is out. The medical forms are too annoying to go through since I doubt it is something I’ll end up doing anyway. But in the end, I decided Eastern Europe could have been good for me. I don’t know much about that corner of the world, so it’s been added to my list. I was in Romania for 12 hours on a long layover once (and still have $30 in Romania lei I can’t get converted!). That region still only inspires vague images of Transylvanian vampires, gypsies, skinny gymnasts, and really, really cute old people (that was the one impression that Bucharest left on me).
Since I’ve been back—almost two months now—I feel like a sociologist. I watch crappy TV shows to see what is being produced and watched; I eavesdrop on the people I work with to get a feel for what Middle America does, thinks, cooks; I’m a wallflower at bars. (In reality, the reasons are that I have no life, find those admittedly terrible shows amusing, have nothing better to do at work, and think Iowa boys too bland). I find myself stepping back and observing, much more than participating, though this has diminished as time passes.
I had Chinese food a few weeks ago and Indian yesterday. So disappointing. The food wasn't as good as it was in Malaysia, it cost 9 times as much, and I wasn't eating it in an open air restaurant with plastic chairs walking distance from my apartment. Note to self: don't attempt to eat ethnic foods in order to remember or imagine; it will only make you depressed that you're not actually someplace exotic.
I feel more vulnerable when I'm back in Iowa. I worry about getting into car accidents, being responsible for accidents where someone gets hurt, getting sick, etc. When I'm away, I don't worry really, even though the language may be different, I don't know my way around, and I don't necessarily know the things that we take for granted here (like the number for 911, as I realized four days before I left Malaysia). I suppose I revert to being more child-like at home (being taken care of and pampered/spoiled as only a mother can)...I'm in closer proximity to loved ones, which somehow translates into a deeper fear of loss...Before leaving I get pre-emptively homesick, not wanting to go on any vacations or even leave my house as the departure date approaches. Which means, this blog is going to get a lot more boring before it gets a lot more interesting.
…
And so, I think this blog’s time has come. Thanks for coming to the show.
This production has been brought to you by the country Malaysia and the number 2004.
See you next year! New time, new place!
I decided that a complicated credit card mishap in the process of buying the ticket was not a signal from above that I shouldn’t go. It’s a one-way ticket, so that leaves me free to play things by ear. Before, it was all in my mind, but now the money’s been put on the line. I’m going. I’m really going.
You’d think I’d be used to it by now, all this travel and moving. I’m sure that packing will be easier. I’m only taking a big hiking backpack. There are still other procedural things to take care of: the visa, travel insurance. Further attempts to establish Iowa-Ghana or Yale-Ghana or Fulbright-Ghana contacts. I get occasional bouts of “what am I doing?!?!?,” brought on by my realization that I know no one in Ghana and have no real idea what it will be like. But with the past two years under my belt, I’m more excited about possibilities than immobilized by anxiety.
Peace Corps is out. The medical forms are too annoying to go through since I doubt it is something I’ll end up doing anyway. But in the end, I decided Eastern Europe could have been good for me. I don’t know much about that corner of the world, so it’s been added to my list. I was in Romania for 12 hours on a long layover once (and still have $30 in Romania lei I can’t get converted!). That region still only inspires vague images of Transylvanian vampires, gypsies, skinny gymnasts, and really, really cute old people (that was the one impression that Bucharest left on me).
Since I’ve been back—almost two months now—I feel like a sociologist. I watch crappy TV shows to see what is being produced and watched; I eavesdrop on the people I work with to get a feel for what Middle America does, thinks, cooks; I’m a wallflower at bars. (In reality, the reasons are that I have no life, find those admittedly terrible shows amusing, have nothing better to do at work, and think Iowa boys too bland). I find myself stepping back and observing, much more than participating, though this has diminished as time passes.
I had Chinese food a few weeks ago and Indian yesterday. So disappointing. The food wasn't as good as it was in Malaysia, it cost 9 times as much, and I wasn't eating it in an open air restaurant with plastic chairs walking distance from my apartment. Note to self: don't attempt to eat ethnic foods in order to remember or imagine; it will only make you depressed that you're not actually someplace exotic.
I feel more vulnerable when I'm back in Iowa. I worry about getting into car accidents, being responsible for accidents where someone gets hurt, getting sick, etc. When I'm away, I don't worry really, even though the language may be different, I don't know my way around, and I don't necessarily know the things that we take for granted here (like the number for 911, as I realized four days before I left Malaysia). I suppose I revert to being more child-like at home (being taken care of and pampered/spoiled as only a mother can)...I'm in closer proximity to loved ones, which somehow translates into a deeper fear of loss...Before leaving I get pre-emptively homesick, not wanting to go on any vacations or even leave my house as the departure date approaches. Which means, this blog is going to get a lot more boring before it gets a lot more interesting.
…
And so, I think this blog’s time has come. Thanks for coming to the show.
This production has been brought to you by the country Malaysia and the number 2004.
See you next year! New time, new place!
I’ve seen the footage of the tsunami wreckage, but it just doesn’t seem real. Friends in Malaysia all seem to be accounted for. Terri, in the south of India, had me worried, but she and her friends there are safe, thankfully.
May it not turn out as bad as they’re saying it might.
May it not turn out as bad as they’re saying it might.
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
This link's for you, Missy
I haven't forgotten about you, my fans! I have been recording thoughts and observations on random scraps of paper, which will someday soon (hopefully) turn themselves into a real blog entry.
Until that time, I thought I'd give you something tasty to tide you over. My First Canadian Friend Terri, who was with me for three weeks in Malaysia, started a blog. Her last three entries are mini-bio blurbs, on me and two of my closest Malaysian friends. It's always interesting to read what someone has to say about you or people you know (fyi, my code name is Dmag, no secret there). And there are pictures, too. Follow this link to "Meet Mind Minus Meat" to meet one (re)dreadlocked friend and one scarved activist I once called Layla, and to hear what Terri has to say to Ed Norton about me, his protege. NOTE: she just added a blog about our last full day in Malaysia; I haven't blogged it and now have no need to since she did such a great job recording it!
Anyone know anyone in Ghana? Or Albania/Macedonia/Bulgaria/Romania/or Moldova?!
I haven't forgotten about you, my fans! I have been recording thoughts and observations on random scraps of paper, which will someday soon (hopefully) turn themselves into a real blog entry.
Until that time, I thought I'd give you something tasty to tide you over. My First Canadian Friend Terri, who was with me for three weeks in Malaysia, started a blog. Her last three entries are mini-bio blurbs, on me and two of my closest Malaysian friends. It's always interesting to read what someone has to say about you or people you know (fyi, my code name is Dmag, no secret there). And there are pictures, too. Follow this link to "Meet Mind Minus Meat" to meet one (re)dreadlocked friend and one scarved activist I once called Layla, and to hear what Terri has to say to Ed Norton about me, his protege. NOTE: she just added a blog about our last full day in Malaysia; I haven't blogged it and now have no need to since she did such a great job recording it!
Anyone know anyone in Ghana? Or Albania/Macedonia/Bulgaria/Romania/or Moldova?!
