Poem...

A poem I wrote Saturday afternoon, for fun. The correct formatting doesn't show up on here, but oh well.

Dutch
I counted once the
language books
hiding in my home.
Serbo-Croat chatting
with Latin I and II.
The English-French taunting
its two counterpart-textbooks
(they being only level one, and
sadly, badly beaten).
My proud Slovensko-Anglicky slovink
(squat and robust like a banker) next to
One Kyrgyz feeling small and out of place and
One kimchi-dreaming Korean.
Nine ruling Russians watch
From their balconies across my walls,
Being four more than the
Sulky English sitting next to
Three Swahili soldiers.
We won’t count the Bibles,
with their two languages more, and
We’ll overlook the zoo—
(a delightful dictionary of foreign terms).
We won’t even count my dushi Papiamento
in exile far away.
And though I missed a
couple phrasebooks, I’ll
quote the tally now:
That’s twenty-five language books
hiding in my house.
Twenty-five languages! And not
one of them the
first in which I wrote.

Rain

I love the rain, the sound of it falling through the leaves, on the rooftops, into puddles. I love rain on a tin roof, loud and obnoxious and musical all at once. I love the way rain splatters. I love the way it cleanses; washes away.

When I can I walk in the rain. When I need to I run in the rain. When no one is looking I dance in it, and let the rain drops carry me away.

I hope it rains one day while I'm home. I want to watch it fall on the banana leaves again, and see the red dirt I was born on swell up into muddy rivets running along the street and turning my backyard into a rich mud-bath. I want to gaze at the sea before me once more when the waves are grey with tiny white caps, and the sky is but a shade lighter, and a seagull with its feathers earily glowing white swoops down over the scene. Somehow that has always been my definition for peace, even though it was in the middle of a rainstorm.

A poem I wrote several months back keeps flitting across my mind today. That happens sometimes. But I can't find it; I think I put it on a different computer or drive than I have here just now. It's the rythmm of it that has me, I think.

It has me thinking and remembering and wondering again, which I have not because it has been too tiring for some time now.

I dream every night now of being back there, of being home. And I wake crying almost every time. In seven days I'll be back there at last, and I won't have to dream again. So it makes me wonder... what will waking up be like?

Rain wash us bright again.

Excited...

I just want to take a few minutes to say I'm so excited to be going home in 8 days!!! First time back to the Caribbean in 12 years... :)

Windows

I have decided that windows make every bit of difference.
My office has been moved from a little room in the middle of a basement to a room at the edge of a basement... with two windows. And having the sun pour onto me and being able to watch a beautiful sunset out my window at the end of the day is just lovely.

It makes me really excited about my travels coming up: I decided instead of sticking around and not travelling, I would go somewhere... And after great debate as to the where (the debate being...visit dear Riv in Scotland, Go-Eders in Uganda, or Bee in the Middle East), I decided that what I actually needed was to go home. To my birthplace.

So in 29 days I will be back in the Caribbean, watching the sun set to a green flash on one side of the island, and the moon rise over the rough waves on the other side. And I can't wait. Still, every time now that things get overwhelming, or I am just so exhausted, or frustrated, or down, I take out the thought of where I will soon be, hold it out at arms length, dust it off, turn it around a bit in admiration, and then set it back in anticipation.

In 29 days, I'll be swimming in 80 degree, crystal clear water and walking with flamingos and eating pastechi.

It's a window into the future, and a window into a past that was locked up.
I think that's something to be excited about.

Ro-cha-cha!

I just got back around midnight from a day-trip to Rochester. That was neat. The History department had a "History Day," and I found out about it from Ben, who informed me I should try to go even though I'm not a student anymore. But hey, I was a history minor, right? And since Micah decided not to go after-all, I went in his place. We went to the Memorial Art Gallery for about 3 hours... One of the paintings I really liked was by Lyonel Feininger, called Zirchow VI. I saw it and I was instantly transported back home. Sometimes I don't really get what the more abstract or random or (as this one is) cubism paintings are trying to show. But this one I knew the instant I saw it. Home.

It was rather neat, to get to spend a day exploring art, culture here in the States. I think the last time I did this was in NYC over a year ago--also a Dr. Airhart trip. lol.

We went to a place called The Little Theatre where we ate supper at the Little Cafe (I had a sort of hummus I haven't had before--made with red peppers rather than most excellent garlic goodness) and then we chose individually between three different movies--Doubt, Milk, and The Reader. I chose the latter. It was probably among the most explicit films I have ever watched, and it was really hard and difficult, but I would still say it was good nonetheless. Definitely gives a person lots to think about, that's for sure...

We all went to Spot Coffee after that. It was funny, the memories I have of that place. Two years ago, a group of us performing A Christmas Carol came there after English Country Dancing in the city. I'm pretty sure I've not actually been there since, but whilst I was in Uganda, one of the guys I knew there was from Rochester, and we talked about Spot a good bit.

I wish I were off travelling right now somewhere. It's nice, though, to find myself wishing for the one thing I never thought to want.

But to get back to the day... it was exciting, exploring again. My car (Ben's, actually) was the first to arrive because we took 2 shortcuts I know to the city. :) That made me happy. We also beat the others home for the same reason. Again, happiness. I know; i really am that competitive.

It's neat to slowly discover these things. I discovered over Christmas break that Rochester has its own waterfalls, called High Falls or something like that. And now I've enjoyed its art gallery and theatre. And I am looking forward to going up to the museums there sometime, or to the Eastman house itself. I do have a car now, so it's nice that i could take myself there if I want.

The Do's and Don'ts we Do and Don't Want

I was just looking back at some things I wrote back in Nov 2006 on Facebook... and how i commented in one note that I didn't want to go to Africa, and wondered whether or no that was ok. And of course, I went and had an amazing time, even though I didn't really want to be there almost the whole way through.

And now I'm wanting to go to Africa... and it's okay. One of the reasons I didn't want to go was because I was afraid of going back. But I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid of "backness" anymore, not so much, anyways. Because I don't think it means what i used to think it might--fear it might. Going "back" a) doesn't have to mean forever, b) doesn't have to be the final death, and c) doesn't always even have to mean anything at all! It can just...be.

Anyways. I also noticed something in a survey thing, where in response to the question I wrote about the two things I wanted most in the world... "mobility within stability and permanence without stagnation." I suppose I should be the happiest person in the world if getting what we want most is supposed to make us most happy... Because I'm pretty stable now, but I have mobility--generally--as I want it. And because I feel a sense--can find a sense--of permanence in my life that I have not seen in years... but I don't feel trapped, or grounded, or stuck at all. I feel like a tree that is just realising that it has roots and what they mean...but understanding that it can still grow wider and higher and make a difference right by being where it is. It's cool, to use a very inexpressive but all-expressive expression.

2009

Who would have thought it could already be 2009?
I've not been much in a blogging, journaling, writing, or otherwise wordy mood these last...months. There hasn't seemed much point, either... After all, it's not like I've been away. I've been here.

But I feel the need to comment right now that it has, in fact, now been for more than a full year I have been in only one country.

Furthermore, I have no clue when the last time was that such a phenomena has occured, but I'm pretty sure it has not been since 1995. Can you imagine that? i have not stayed in one country for a year since 14 years ago!

No wonder it's so weird!

Right now I am really missing Slovakia. Everything is changing there and continuing there and I miss being part of it all and seeing it... We're switching from Slovak krowns (national currency) to euros now. I have a lot of krown in my wallet here that I don't know how or when I'll get the chance to change over. But everyone is changing now. They say the lines in stores move ridiculously slowly, because know one (well, few) know how the coins work and everyone has to figure out the exchange.

I'm going to miss the krown a lot. It was beautiful, every bill a different colour and different size... all our national monuments and history and famous people on the bills and coins... I liked using the euro... outside of Slovakia!

I miss the opera. There's a really interesting looking one on recently of early Slovak history. It's a bonafide Slovak opera and I would almost die to see it. I miss opera in general--good opera. But "what's to do here, Thomas Tapster? Come, let's withdraw."

I will say, though, that despite the homesickness which assails me--and here I would mention that I am also homesick for the Caribbean these days, not because of the weather but just because it's been such a long time--that I do like where I am living and what I am doing. I really do. I think that living fully simply means that we will always have all things... contentedness and restlessness, joy and sorrow, love and hate, and they will always be present in our hearts at the same time. We just have to know how to handle them--and that falls under living well.

I think I write funny. When I read my posts or writings/reflections, I usually laugh at how things come out. So "flamboyant." My biology teacher always protested that I was "too flamboyant," and needed to be more factual, less elaborate, more scientific, more simple, etc etc etc. He should know, though--he did drama on the side, too.

"the theatre, the theatre. Oh how we love the theatre!"

Alright. I'm out of here for now. I've got dinner to go catch before hunger overtakes me.

Cheers!