"I was traveling west one time
along the stateline of colorado-- it's arid western one
and the stateline of poor utah
when i saw huge and mast in the clouds
the great image of god
with forefinger pointed straight at me
through halos and rolls and gold folds
that were like the existence of a gleaming spirit
his right hand would sayeth
go though across the ground
go moan for man
go moan
go groan
go groan alone
go roll your bones
alone
go thou and be little beneath my sight
go thou and be my newest seed in the pod
go thou, go thou
die hence.
and may this world report you
well and truly.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Maybe I should write in this thing more often, and not be as concerned about writing something terribly prolific. It's just that when your day to day business no longer consists of wandering in and out of strange countries, you end up writing about what you ate for lunch or some crap like that, and I just want to write something worthwhile.
I could write about work, man I could tell you some stories about these guys, but I don't know if that would be violating people's personal stories. Basically I don't want to get sued. Maybe if I don't include names or tell people where I actually work, I could get away with it. Lawyers in the family have any input?
...I'm not sure that anyone even reads this blog besides Will Fischer.
I'll tell you something I'm thinking about today. A Salinger book that Carrie let me borrow, which I believe I kept, and which is now collecting dust back at my parents' house-- Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenters and Seymour. (sorry carrie) It was not my favorite of all his books but it had some of my favorite pieces in it. Like little chunks or ideas that I remember when I'm supposed to be working, or when i'm in a meeting. One of these is a letter that Buddy (JD himself) gets from his older brother Seymour (genius who killed himself). Seymour tells Buddy that he saw him write down his profession on a form he was filling out. Buddy wrote "writer," under profession, and Seymour thought it was hilarious, because "writing has never been anything less than your religion," he told his bro. The letter was written in the middle of the night by seymour when he was reviewing his brother's latest story and providing notes on it. he was giving advice and considering his brother's religion, he found the story was not up to Buddy's usual work, and got carried away in the letter. He started getting caught up and even a little cheesy and told his brother...Write with all his stars out!!! Thinking of a black sky full of stars, when you look up and you see all those little lights twinkling at you, something rare to a city girl, something rare for the sky anywhere, like it's showing off, (and don't you know that god is pooh bear?) and I understood exactly what he was talking about. yeah. write with all your stars out. and live that way too.
I could write about work, man I could tell you some stories about these guys, but I don't know if that would be violating people's personal stories. Basically I don't want to get sued. Maybe if I don't include names or tell people where I actually work, I could get away with it. Lawyers in the family have any input?
...I'm not sure that anyone even reads this blog besides Will Fischer.
I'll tell you something I'm thinking about today. A Salinger book that Carrie let me borrow, which I believe I kept, and which is now collecting dust back at my parents' house-- Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenters and Seymour. (sorry carrie) It was not my favorite of all his books but it had some of my favorite pieces in it. Like little chunks or ideas that I remember when I'm supposed to be working, or when i'm in a meeting. One of these is a letter that Buddy (JD himself) gets from his older brother Seymour (genius who killed himself). Seymour tells Buddy that he saw him write down his profession on a form he was filling out. Buddy wrote "writer," under profession, and Seymour thought it was hilarious, because "writing has never been anything less than your religion," he told his bro. The letter was written in the middle of the night by seymour when he was reviewing his brother's latest story and providing notes on it. he was giving advice and considering his brother's religion, he found the story was not up to Buddy's usual work, and got carried away in the letter. He started getting caught up and even a little cheesy and told his brother...Write with all his stars out!!! Thinking of a black sky full of stars, when you look up and you see all those little lights twinkling at you, something rare to a city girl, something rare for the sky anywhere, like it's showing off, (and don't you know that god is pooh bear?) and I understood exactly what he was talking about. yeah. write with all your stars out. and live that way too.
Monday, March 31, 2008
"You, yourself, as much as anybody else in the universe, deserve your love and affection."
That's today's message from the belly of Alaska. And it's the same one I keep learning over and over again.
There was much to be said about traveling alone. I wouldn't do it any other way if I had it to do over again, and I expect to do more in the future. However, some experiences and beautiful things, while they can be appreciated, mean nothing unless shared. I do share my experiences while I'm away. And not just through this blog, but I always take "home" with me. I could be alone on a mountain top and my Mom will always be a voice right beside me, reminding me not to leave wet towels on wood floors. i'm reminded of what chris mccandles wrote in the margins of one of his books before he died, right here in alaska. it was something to the effect of, "life is meaningless unless shared."
Anyways I remember thinking about how, at least for me, life is all about love. finding it and keeping it. i knew a feeling like that would not last, it was so small and precious, it was bound to slip through my fingers.
And it did, inevitably. But it is a great thing to keep rediscovering that.
http://www.sonymusic.com/clips/selection/fu/MasonJennings/KINK_01_01_full_100.asx
That's today's message from the belly of Alaska. And it's the same one I keep learning over and over again.
There was much to be said about traveling alone. I wouldn't do it any other way if I had it to do over again, and I expect to do more in the future. However, some experiences and beautiful things, while they can be appreciated, mean nothing unless shared. I do share my experiences while I'm away. And not just through this blog, but I always take "home" with me. I could be alone on a mountain top and my Mom will always be a voice right beside me, reminding me not to leave wet towels on wood floors. i'm reminded of what chris mccandles wrote in the margins of one of his books before he died, right here in alaska. it was something to the effect of, "life is meaningless unless shared."
Anyways I remember thinking about how, at least for me, life is all about love. finding it and keeping it. i knew a feeling like that would not last, it was so small and precious, it was bound to slip through my fingers.
And it did, inevitably. But it is a great thing to keep rediscovering that.
http://www.sonymusic.com/clips/selection/fu/MasonJennings/KINK_01_01_full_100.asx
Monday, March 17, 2008
I went on hike up Flat Top, a mountain in the Chugach range. The first segment of the climb hit me pretty hard. My chest felt like it had knives in it, I think because of the altitude and because I'm out of shape, not having exercised much all winter. I brought my handkerchief along to warm my neck and was very glad to have it around when I needed it to block wind from my face. I looked like I was about to rob a stagecoach, but at least I was warm. LaterI tied it around my head to keep my ears warm. It was a useful thing to tote up the mountain.
A few of us fell behind, waiting for one of our guys to hump up the slopes. He was getting over a sickness and was really having trouble breathing. He looked like he was in pain. In any event, once we reached the halfway point, we ran into some real, experienced climbers. They had hundereds of dollars worth of climbing equiptment attached to themselves. I couldn't decide who were the silly ones-- them or us, in our cheap hiking boots, jeans, and me with my handkerchief. They told us that there were two ways to climb to the top-- the way they were going was much safer, but they were not sure we could do it without climbing equiptment. The other way, the way our friends had already begun to climb, was prone to avalanching, especially around this time of year, and had recently killed two people.
We would have followed these men right away, were our friends not climbing on the other side. Me, AJ, and Chris ran around the mountain to find them. Our friend Will, who was already halfway up turned and screamed at us from above. For anyone who does not know, loud noises can also cause avalanches, and what he did was not exactly smart. And just two seconds after his scream, Will came sliding down the hill on a wave of snow, not large enough to hurt anyone but fast, and surely frightening to everyone who saw. I don't know how much real danger any of us were in, but admittedly, it was pretty funny. If anyone was going to slide down a mountain on the cusp of a tiny avalanche, it was Will.
So we ran back around to the other side of the mountain and attempted to climb sans equiptment. I had to kick my toe into the snow of the mountain and use that as a step, and do the same with my hands. Occasionally I'd slide a few feet down and have to reclimb up. I felt pretty tough. It was not easy. Once we got to the top the wind blew so hard it was like a constant slap in the face. I could barely open my eyes, let alone stand up. It was at that moment when the two guys who had made it up were going to try to go higher that I became scared. We really didn't know what they hell we were doing. Luckily they decided against it, seeing as how they could not see anything through the snow flying in their faces. So we slid back down the mountain instead.
A few of us fell behind, waiting for one of our guys to hump up the slopes. He was getting over a sickness and was really having trouble breathing. He looked like he was in pain. In any event, once we reached the halfway point, we ran into some real, experienced climbers. They had hundereds of dollars worth of climbing equiptment attached to themselves. I couldn't decide who were the silly ones-- them or us, in our cheap hiking boots, jeans, and me with my handkerchief. They told us that there were two ways to climb to the top-- the way they were going was much safer, but they were not sure we could do it without climbing equiptment. The other way, the way our friends had already begun to climb, was prone to avalanching, especially around this time of year, and had recently killed two people.
We would have followed these men right away, were our friends not climbing on the other side. Me, AJ, and Chris ran around the mountain to find them. Our friend Will, who was already halfway up turned and screamed at us from above. For anyone who does not know, loud noises can also cause avalanches, and what he did was not exactly smart. And just two seconds after his scream, Will came sliding down the hill on a wave of snow, not large enough to hurt anyone but fast, and surely frightening to everyone who saw. I don't know how much real danger any of us were in, but admittedly, it was pretty funny. If anyone was going to slide down a mountain on the cusp of a tiny avalanche, it was Will.
So we ran back around to the other side of the mountain and attempted to climb sans equiptment. I had to kick my toe into the snow of the mountain and use that as a step, and do the same with my hands. Occasionally I'd slide a few feet down and have to reclimb up. I felt pretty tough. It was not easy. Once we got to the top the wind blew so hard it was like a constant slap in the face. I could barely open my eyes, let alone stand up. It was at that moment when the two guys who had made it up were going to try to go higher that I became scared. We really didn't know what they hell we were doing. Luckily they decided against it, seeing as how they could not see anything through the snow flying in their faces. So we slid back down the mountain instead.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Another diary entry.
For as many stories of self destruction as I've heard recently, I still feel too bright and shiny to write a bukowski-wanna-be piece of crap. Especially right now, sitting in a coffee shop across from you know who. I just feel too giddy.
I work at a recovery and rehabilitation center. We've got recovering alcoholics, crack addicts, heroin addicts, schizophrenics, 60 year old men with dementia only now starting their lives over who unfortunately no longer remember how to spell their own names, men with liver disease and aids, victims of sexual abuse... we've got sexual abusers too, men who can't keep their hands to themselves, ex-prisoners and severely depressed people with suicidal or homicidal thoughts. do you have a plan? do you know how you are going to do it? do you have a target? and here i am, a twenty-three year old woman with big brown eyes and real compassion, trying to draw my lines where they need to be drawn, telling old men it's not okay to touch my shoulder and give me awkward compliments when we're in the room alone with each other. I need to be a parent to men twice or three times my senior, show them how to wash their hands to the tune of the birthday song, sit them down in an ugly white conference room with xeroxed handouts that explain how to create a budget. Me, the one who spent 2,000 dollars my freshman year of college on snacks and other things in the first few months.
The more I have to take care of people and help them along, the more I feel like the other workers who've been pushing me along and teaching me-- a responsible person -- something I've never considered myself to be. The more I work the less I feel like someone who needs to be taken care of, like someone knee deep in the muck of their own mistakes. But off the clock I'm still a hell of a girl. I still drink. I still want to travel. I still want my life to be anything but normal.
This is my 23rd year of life.
Except for the job, occasionally scraping ice off car windows, and a change in everyday clothing, I came to alaska to lead the same life i always have. I drink on the weekends and I care about what other people think, and I'm less than punctual and a little lazier than your average jane. Maybe it's alaska that suits me so well. Like santa cruz did-- a coat that fits. But anyways I like it. I like the scenery. Contrary to how it may seem in that past paragraph, I love my job and all the people wrapped up in that little maze. All those beautiful cognitively disabled jacks n jills. it reminds me of the santa cruz dorms.
While I haven't been writing a whole lot, I've gotten the chance to do some writing at work and have gotten some good feedback. I'm actually quite proud of myself. At any rate, I'll have my first published article up on the national website this March. Looking forward to forcing you all to read it.
-me
I work at a recovery and rehabilitation center. We've got recovering alcoholics, crack addicts, heroin addicts, schizophrenics, 60 year old men with dementia only now starting their lives over who unfortunately no longer remember how to spell their own names, men with liver disease and aids, victims of sexual abuse... we've got sexual abusers too, men who can't keep their hands to themselves, ex-prisoners and severely depressed people with suicidal or homicidal thoughts. do you have a plan? do you know how you are going to do it? do you have a target? and here i am, a twenty-three year old woman with big brown eyes and real compassion, trying to draw my lines where they need to be drawn, telling old men it's not okay to touch my shoulder and give me awkward compliments when we're in the room alone with each other. I need to be a parent to men twice or three times my senior, show them how to wash their hands to the tune of the birthday song, sit them down in an ugly white conference room with xeroxed handouts that explain how to create a budget. Me, the one who spent 2,000 dollars my freshman year of college on snacks and other things in the first few months.
The more I have to take care of people and help them along, the more I feel like the other workers who've been pushing me along and teaching me-- a responsible person -- something I've never considered myself to be. The more I work the less I feel like someone who needs to be taken care of, like someone knee deep in the muck of their own mistakes. But off the clock I'm still a hell of a girl. I still drink. I still want to travel. I still want my life to be anything but normal.
This is my 23rd year of life.
Except for the job, occasionally scraping ice off car windows, and a change in everyday clothing, I came to alaska to lead the same life i always have. I drink on the weekends and I care about what other people think, and I'm less than punctual and a little lazier than your average jane. Maybe it's alaska that suits me so well. Like santa cruz did-- a coat that fits. But anyways I like it. I like the scenery. Contrary to how it may seem in that past paragraph, I love my job and all the people wrapped up in that little maze. All those beautiful cognitively disabled jacks n jills. it reminds me of the santa cruz dorms.
While I haven't been writing a whole lot, I've gotten the chance to do some writing at work and have gotten some good feedback. I'm actually quite proud of myself. At any rate, I'll have my first published article up on the national website this March. Looking forward to forcing you all to read it.
-me
Friday, February 15, 2008
I regained something I lost, something I had in '02 while driving down the long sloping hill on campus, looking out over the entirety of Santa Cruz, California at the redwoods tumbling into the ocean there at night in a car full of hopeful excited youths. Away for the first time, flying down a hill in the dark, free.
"Somewhere along the line I knew there would be girls, visions, everything. Somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me."
Last night I listened to Van Morrison blasting through speakers in a busted ass car and watched a huge cloud roll in over snow covered mountains, which were still visible in the dark, and was straining to think of a way to express how I felt at that exact moment when AJ turned to me and said, 'it's going to snow tonite.'
The words filled me up; the ensuing feeling was painful, and it was perfect. There was no better way to express the forceful thrust and dizziness of the moment than for the sky to open up and deliver onto my eyelashes soft white flakes that would eventually cover the entire city in a blanket of white.
one soft flake, blanket white city.
I'm heading out of Anchorage for my first time this weekend to the peninsula (Seward). When I get back I'm hoping I'll have written something down to put in this thing. An introduction to friends, etc. Pictures still to come, one day, when I am less lazy.
"Somewhere along the line I knew there would be girls, visions, everything. Somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me."
Last night I listened to Van Morrison blasting through speakers in a busted ass car and watched a huge cloud roll in over snow covered mountains, which were still visible in the dark, and was straining to think of a way to express how I felt at that exact moment when AJ turned to me and said, 'it's going to snow tonite.'
The words filled me up; the ensuing feeling was painful, and it was perfect. There was no better way to express the forceful thrust and dizziness of the moment than for the sky to open up and deliver onto my eyelashes soft white flakes that would eventually cover the entire city in a blanket of white.
one soft flake, blanket white city.
I'm heading out of Anchorage for my first time this weekend to the peninsula (Seward). When I get back I'm hoping I'll have written something down to put in this thing. An introduction to friends, etc. Pictures still to come, one day, when I am less lazy.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
It is currently 57 degrees in LA and 1 degree in Anchorage.
I'm in training with the VA Clinic yesterday and today. Yesterday I watched several hours of propaganda videos while locked in a small room with ten other people. Disorientation ensued, during which time I apparently voted republican, enlisted in the marines, raised a flag in the front yard, and ate a wonder bread and american cheese sandwhich, all of which I don't remember.
Today we have more informational lectures. Your typical VA employee supervisor will speak in military analogies and directly contradict what the person before him or her said. When one instructor was confronted she said, "welcome to the federal government," threw her head back and laughed.
My coworkers at VI are different though. Actually I have suspicions that all of ALaska is different than the lower 49. In the short time I've been here I've noticed that people here are on the job, or thinking about their job, 24 hours a day because they care about the people they're helping. And for that reason they also don't seem to get stressed out. They've got their "stuff" together. THey get the job done. They use cliches like the preceding two, and their motto is "Business as Usual... NOT!!"
As for me, I worry if I'll be able to help people follow the steps necessary to rehabilitate themselves when I'm still trying to grow up, myself. I wasn't able to put it into words before I left, but now I see that one reason I came up here was to rid myself of my youngest child tendencies-- letting others take care of me and prolonging my own development. If you always accept the help offered to you, you run the risk of never learning to take on life on your own. (or something like that). And it's no one's fault but my own!
So I decided to become the responsible person I've never wanted to be and as soon as I made this decision I promptly misplaced my phone for 24 hours and missed the bus twice. Merely setbacks. Today I have things generally under control again, and am on my way to... where i'm goin... one step at a time.
Will continue this later, back to training now. Got to find out which forms I need to fill out if I want to blow my nose.
New alaska quote:
"If you're going to be stupid in Alaska, you'd better be tough."
I'm in training with the VA Clinic yesterday and today. Yesterday I watched several hours of propaganda videos while locked in a small room with ten other people. Disorientation ensued, during which time I apparently voted republican, enlisted in the marines, raised a flag in the front yard, and ate a wonder bread and american cheese sandwhich, all of which I don't remember.
Today we have more informational lectures. Your typical VA employee supervisor will speak in military analogies and directly contradict what the person before him or her said. When one instructor was confronted she said, "welcome to the federal government," threw her head back and laughed.
My coworkers at VI are different though. Actually I have suspicions that all of ALaska is different than the lower 49. In the short time I've been here I've noticed that people here are on the job, or thinking about their job, 24 hours a day because they care about the people they're helping. And for that reason they also don't seem to get stressed out. They've got their "stuff" together. THey get the job done. They use cliches like the preceding two, and their motto is "Business as Usual... NOT!!"
As for me, I worry if I'll be able to help people follow the steps necessary to rehabilitate themselves when I'm still trying to grow up, myself. I wasn't able to put it into words before I left, but now I see that one reason I came up here was to rid myself of my youngest child tendencies-- letting others take care of me and prolonging my own development. If you always accept the help offered to you, you run the risk of never learning to take on life on your own. (or something like that). And it's no one's fault but my own!
So I decided to become the responsible person I've never wanted to be and as soon as I made this decision I promptly misplaced my phone for 24 hours and missed the bus twice. Merely setbacks. Today I have things generally under control again, and am on my way to... where i'm goin... one step at a time.
Will continue this later, back to training now. Got to find out which forms I need to fill out if I want to blow my nose.
New alaska quote:
"If you're going to be stupid in Alaska, you'd better be tough."
Sunday, January 27, 2008
cold? what cold?
It's strange to compare what's real in alaska to the fake versions I've known my whole life. The trees up here, which I have been referring to as Christmas trees much to the dismay of everyone around me, are frosted in snow, and remind me of the fake frosted trees we used to get from the ymca during the holidays. That's one difference between LA and Anchorage. In La, snow comes from a metal tube attached to a tank, and here it falls from the sky and piles up in front of the door. And when I see children pulling sleighs through the snow I can't help but think, Wow! ...It's just like on TV. Haha. My street looks like a scene from It's a Wonderful Life, and today I went ice fishing (carhart suits and furry hats galore) followed by ice skating over a frozen lake. My only experience of all these things was previously a second hand knowledge gathered from books, movies, and other people's stories. It's still unreal to me to experience the world in such a different way. All I can do is take everything in one detail at a time, and appreciate how much a life can change from one temperature to another. A few examples:
If you are hanging out with friends and having a couple beers, there's no need to pop them in the fridge. You just leave them outside and hope they don't freeze, and run out as quick as you can to grab one and run back inside to warm up.
Every other store and restaurant here has either "bear" or "moose" in the name.
Sometimes, the bus just does not come, for no particular reason. (found this out the hard way.)
When you go out and are wearing jeans, it feels like you aren't wearing any pants. Really, just imagine walking around in your underwear. That's how it feels... the moisture goes right through.
People spin their cars off into ditches because of the ice and just abandon them all over the place. And when you drive along the highway it's kind of like going window shopping for used cars. "That one looks nice and seems to be in better shape, but that one over there will be easier to tow home."
It really isn't that bad in terms of the cold, especially when there's no wind and you've got the right clothes on. When I go out my cheeks turn a brighter pink than I've ever seen. I didn't know my face could make that color. It feels strangely good to sting a little bit. Men's beards grow icicles, to give you an idea of what my bare skin was feeling.
I've got to say my favorite moment has been the ice skating. The sun was poking through some far off Christmas trees and I could see the Chugach mountains hovering over me. I glided over the ice in my newly purchased, 15 dollar, used skates, wary of the cracks and holes, and searching for a dead body under the ice. (Like I said, I keep thinking of movies.) As I spun around with the little kids, I thought about TIm O'Brien's book, "The Things They Carried"... a very appropriate novel to ponder since I'll be working with vets.
He talked about life after war and the tangible and intangible items people, especially soldiers and post war vets, carry around with them... photographs, books, necessary tools, memories, hopes, and fears... He compared a frozen lake to the solid mass of memories, good and bad, that he was once drowning in. I wish I could provide the quote... something about double axles over the frozen past.
THe more I talk to people I'm working with, or the other americorps vistas down here, the more I realize that that's a huge part of everybody's life. Learning to skate and to live your life. I'm really glad that I'm here, I'm glad to challenge myself, and I'm especially glad to have the chance to help other people help themselves.
Hmm, interesting quote I've heard:
This one's from another americorps vista I hung out with last night.
"I used to be an idealist. And then I moved to Alaska."
Hahahaha, we'll see how this next year goes. Hopefully I get some writing done, and keep this updated. When I get my usb mailed up I'll add some nifty pictures of me and Buckley in the snow.
Love,
Kate
If you are hanging out with friends and having a couple beers, there's no need to pop them in the fridge. You just leave them outside and hope they don't freeze, and run out as quick as you can to grab one and run back inside to warm up.
Every other store and restaurant here has either "bear" or "moose" in the name.
Sometimes, the bus just does not come, for no particular reason. (found this out the hard way.)
When you go out and are wearing jeans, it feels like you aren't wearing any pants. Really, just imagine walking around in your underwear. That's how it feels... the moisture goes right through.
People spin their cars off into ditches because of the ice and just abandon them all over the place. And when you drive along the highway it's kind of like going window shopping for used cars. "That one looks nice and seems to be in better shape, but that one over there will be easier to tow home."
It really isn't that bad in terms of the cold, especially when there's no wind and you've got the right clothes on. When I go out my cheeks turn a brighter pink than I've ever seen. I didn't know my face could make that color. It feels strangely good to sting a little bit. Men's beards grow icicles, to give you an idea of what my bare skin was feeling.
I've got to say my favorite moment has been the ice skating. The sun was poking through some far off Christmas trees and I could see the Chugach mountains hovering over me. I glided over the ice in my newly purchased, 15 dollar, used skates, wary of the cracks and holes, and searching for a dead body under the ice. (Like I said, I keep thinking of movies.) As I spun around with the little kids, I thought about TIm O'Brien's book, "The Things They Carried"... a very appropriate novel to ponder since I'll be working with vets.
He talked about life after war and the tangible and intangible items people, especially soldiers and post war vets, carry around with them... photographs, books, necessary tools, memories, hopes, and fears... He compared a frozen lake to the solid mass of memories, good and bad, that he was once drowning in. I wish I could provide the quote... something about double axles over the frozen past.
THe more I talk to people I'm working with, or the other americorps vistas down here, the more I realize that that's a huge part of everybody's life. Learning to skate and to live your life. I'm really glad that I'm here, I'm glad to challenge myself, and I'm especially glad to have the chance to help other people help themselves.
Hmm, interesting quote I've heard:
This one's from another americorps vista I hung out with last night.
"I used to be an idealist. And then I moved to Alaska."
Hahahaha, we'll see how this next year goes. Hopefully I get some writing done, and keep this updated. When I get my usb mailed up I'll add some nifty pictures of me and Buckley in the snow.
Love,
Kate
Thursday, May 24, 2007
I must really smell right now. I sat down here in this internet cafe, I am currently in Khao Sok of southern thailand, and the woman seated me and then opened up the window next to me and put a fan on the opposite side of me. I forgot to put on deodorant this morning and then I went for a hike, and see, they make you take off your shoes when you come into these places... anyways...
Today was a good day. Got up, had a small breakfast, said hello to the frog that lives in my toilet and the small snake in my shower, put on my hiking shoes and headed up to Khao Sok national park. There are many trails to take and I overzealously chose the longest one and only made it about half way. I had neglected to pack water, which was just plain stupid, and had to turn back. What's the jungle like? The first thing that pops to mind is the constant flurry of little bugs that are always trying to either eat you or start colonies in your eyes, nose, and mouth. Everything is green above, below, and around you. After hiking for awhile the sky disappears too. Hundereds of cicada beatles beat their bums against tree trunks and their collective hum is remincient of a chain-saw, off in the distance. You can hear monkeys but you can't see them. They don't make the "ooh-ooh, ah-ah" sounds I thought they would. It's more like a cross between a little kid wailing and a bird call.
When I got back to the visitor center and restaurant at the base of the trails and went straight for the water. Some Thai women seemed to be having some sort of meeting in the outdoor area. They were raising their voices and arguing about something, not so much in the angry way. It was more like a town meeting kind of argument. Anyways there was this little boy who was waiting around for his mom and he saw me drinking water in the corner with my ipod. He came over and stood behind me, actually was looking right over my shoulder, to see me sort through the songs. So I gave him one of my earphones and let him hear this song with me. It was "elephant gun," by beirut. I could tell he liked it, too. He called his little brother over and I gave him the other ear phone and then they just stood there sort of staring off, holding the earphones to their heads. They saw their Dad approaching as the song was ending and ran away, but the older brother made sure to smile and thank me (in english!).
So that put me in a pretty good mood. I started walking back toward my hotel but decided to keep going for a bit on account of how jolly I felt at that particular moment, and came up on this court. I don't know what the game is called, but I've seen it played on tv here. It's kind of like volleyball, only you can use everything but your hands. Basically it involves a tiny soccer ball made of plastic, and two teams juggle and pass to get it over the net. The teams seem to have the same positions as in volleyball. So I saw the court and the net and the balls lying around, and I started messing around. A guy came out of his house and started playing with me, which was pretty cool. I think he was a bit surprised that I could play (as was I). I headed it over the net once and felt pretty cool about that, ha. Anyways I'm invited to play in a game at 5 o clock now! I'm not sure whether or not to go because I told some of the girls that I'd go with them to check out some swing made out of vines around that time, but either way I don't think I'll be let down.
We have a new tour guide for the south tour. He kind of sucks. Actually he really sucks, but luckily, the group is doing well without his help. THe problem with this guy is that he drinks every night and incessantly hits on all the girls in the group. The only other male still in the tour is charles, the old man I wrote about once. He turned out to be a creepy old man, though. It's a crazy world, people. I don't want anyone to worry, though. I feel safe and am in the company of some other very capable women. We're having fun still and I'm looking forward to the rest of the trip. Tomorrow I head to Ko Samui island, then I go on a sea safari, and from there head to Kopanang (i'm pretty sure i spelled that wrong.) That last destination is where 'the beach' was filmed. I can't wait to get home and show you these pictures. You guys won't believe places like this exist.
ANyhoooo, I love and miss you all. Hope all is well, talk to you soon,
katie
Today was a good day. Got up, had a small breakfast, said hello to the frog that lives in my toilet and the small snake in my shower, put on my hiking shoes and headed up to Khao Sok national park. There are many trails to take and I overzealously chose the longest one and only made it about half way. I had neglected to pack water, which was just plain stupid, and had to turn back. What's the jungle like? The first thing that pops to mind is the constant flurry of little bugs that are always trying to either eat you or start colonies in your eyes, nose, and mouth. Everything is green above, below, and around you. After hiking for awhile the sky disappears too. Hundereds of cicada beatles beat their bums against tree trunks and their collective hum is remincient of a chain-saw, off in the distance. You can hear monkeys but you can't see them. They don't make the "ooh-ooh, ah-ah" sounds I thought they would. It's more like a cross between a little kid wailing and a bird call.
When I got back to the visitor center and restaurant at the base of the trails and went straight for the water. Some Thai women seemed to be having some sort of meeting in the outdoor area. They were raising their voices and arguing about something, not so much in the angry way. It was more like a town meeting kind of argument. Anyways there was this little boy who was waiting around for his mom and he saw me drinking water in the corner with my ipod. He came over and stood behind me, actually was looking right over my shoulder, to see me sort through the songs. So I gave him one of my earphones and let him hear this song with me. It was "elephant gun," by beirut. I could tell he liked it, too. He called his little brother over and I gave him the other ear phone and then they just stood there sort of staring off, holding the earphones to their heads. They saw their Dad approaching as the song was ending and ran away, but the older brother made sure to smile and thank me (in english!).
So that put me in a pretty good mood. I started walking back toward my hotel but decided to keep going for a bit on account of how jolly I felt at that particular moment, and came up on this court. I don't know what the game is called, but I've seen it played on tv here. It's kind of like volleyball, only you can use everything but your hands. Basically it involves a tiny soccer ball made of plastic, and two teams juggle and pass to get it over the net. The teams seem to have the same positions as in volleyball. So I saw the court and the net and the balls lying around, and I started messing around. A guy came out of his house and started playing with me, which was pretty cool. I think he was a bit surprised that I could play (as was I). I headed it over the net once and felt pretty cool about that, ha. Anyways I'm invited to play in a game at 5 o clock now! I'm not sure whether or not to go because I told some of the girls that I'd go with them to check out some swing made out of vines around that time, but either way I don't think I'll be let down.
We have a new tour guide for the south tour. He kind of sucks. Actually he really sucks, but luckily, the group is doing well without his help. THe problem with this guy is that he drinks every night and incessantly hits on all the girls in the group. The only other male still in the tour is charles, the old man I wrote about once. He turned out to be a creepy old man, though. It's a crazy world, people. I don't want anyone to worry, though. I feel safe and am in the company of some other very capable women. We're having fun still and I'm looking forward to the rest of the trip. Tomorrow I head to Ko Samui island, then I go on a sea safari, and from there head to Kopanang (i'm pretty sure i spelled that wrong.) That last destination is where 'the beach' was filmed. I can't wait to get home and show you these pictures. You guys won't believe places like this exist.
ANyhoooo, I love and miss you all. Hope all is well, talk to you soon,
katie
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Hey again. I'm back in Bangkok. Chris-- Din Daeng (ding dang) is actually not too far from here. And ping pong is a serious sport around these parts. I dare not challenge anyone... Every once in awhile the most excellent opportunities for movie quotes come up and I feel a serious pain because I have to hold it in. Most of my companions are not up to speed on their Indiana Jones, etc, etc. I am trying to take pictures of these things, though. I took one a couple days ago that I'm going to call, "feel like stepping on fortune cookie!!" Needless to say, your absence is felt.
I really have enjoyed getting notes from everyone and I hope you continue to write and tell me whassahappenin.
I took a longtail boat from Chiang Rai to Laos to try something called "snake whiskeÿ." I thought it was just a name, but it turns out it's just a bottle of homemade rice whiskey with a giant dead snake in it. Looked like a science experiment, and reminded me to the time Chris and I found a bat in the desert and I took it in to Doctor Petowski (my elementary school science teacher) in a ziplock bag. From Laos we went to the Golden Triangle, where Laos, Thailand, and Burma meet. I wandered through the opium museum for awhile. THey don't hand out free samples there, and they don't find it very funny when you ask, either. Afterwards I walked over the border to Burma to walk around for a bit.
Now Burma is different than Thailand and Laos. It's poorer, darker, dirtier. I held onto my bag tightly while walking down the street and little kids with white poweder on their faces grabbed at my arms and begged for money. Some of them will just hang on you and not let go. I went with only a portion of my group and we decided that we wanted to try some Myanmar beer. A little bit into our search I start having these abdominal pains, increasing in ferver each couple minutes. THese warning signs come not too long before you're in serious trouble, so I was forced to take action immediately. THe problem was that we couldn't even find a restaurant, let alone a restroom. This girl I hang around with a lot, Laura, and I ran back to the border to go find one. It was a harrowing and frightful journey which I would not like to recall. After that it was already time to go, so basically I got my passport stamped and crossed this crazy borderland just to relieve myself in another country.
I also recently visited Ayothaya, which is the old capitol of Thailand. It seems like it was abandoned a year ago, not centuries ago. THere are few people out at all in the day time and no one at night, except for the occasional monk with an alms bowl. It's very poor and all the temples have hundereds of headless buddha statues from when the Burmese came in and destroyed everything during war. Interestingly, my tour guide calls all acts of war "slash and burn,"which is actually a term used to describe the cutting down of forest and trees for farmland. My guide, (his name is Tee) is a nice local guy. He played guitar for us one night and altered the words to his favorite Bob Marley songs, including my personal favorite, "I shot the tourist," (formerly " I shot the sheriff"). I forget if I already mentioned that or not.
I'm very tired right now so I apologize for the lack of enthusiasm in this entry. I'd like to write more but I'm pooped and I need to get a nap in before I go out tonight... I'm going to a THai boxing match!!!!!! I hear the best part is the crowd. ANyhow, perhaps Í can finish up tomorrow because I think I'll have more time then before I head down south. Love all you guyses.
katie
p.s. here is a quote i've been thinking about everyday:
"And yet, and yet... denying temporal sucession, denying the self, denying the astronomica universe, are apparent desperations and secret consolations. Our destiny is not frightful by being unreal; it is frightful because it is irreversible and iron-clad. Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges."
-jorge luis borges "a new refutation of time"1946 essay
I really have enjoyed getting notes from everyone and I hope you continue to write and tell me whassahappenin.
I took a longtail boat from Chiang Rai to Laos to try something called "snake whiskeÿ." I thought it was just a name, but it turns out it's just a bottle of homemade rice whiskey with a giant dead snake in it. Looked like a science experiment, and reminded me to the time Chris and I found a bat in the desert and I took it in to Doctor Petowski (my elementary school science teacher) in a ziplock bag. From Laos we went to the Golden Triangle, where Laos, Thailand, and Burma meet. I wandered through the opium museum for awhile. THey don't hand out free samples there, and they don't find it very funny when you ask, either. Afterwards I walked over the border to Burma to walk around for a bit.
Now Burma is different than Thailand and Laos. It's poorer, darker, dirtier. I held onto my bag tightly while walking down the street and little kids with white poweder on their faces grabbed at my arms and begged for money. Some of them will just hang on you and not let go. I went with only a portion of my group and we decided that we wanted to try some Myanmar beer. A little bit into our search I start having these abdominal pains, increasing in ferver each couple minutes. THese warning signs come not too long before you're in serious trouble, so I was forced to take action immediately. THe problem was that we couldn't even find a restaurant, let alone a restroom. This girl I hang around with a lot, Laura, and I ran back to the border to go find one. It was a harrowing and frightful journey which I would not like to recall. After that it was already time to go, so basically I got my passport stamped and crossed this crazy borderland just to relieve myself in another country.
I also recently visited Ayothaya, which is the old capitol of Thailand. It seems like it was abandoned a year ago, not centuries ago. THere are few people out at all in the day time and no one at night, except for the occasional monk with an alms bowl. It's very poor and all the temples have hundereds of headless buddha statues from when the Burmese came in and destroyed everything during war. Interestingly, my tour guide calls all acts of war "slash and burn,"which is actually a term used to describe the cutting down of forest and trees for farmland. My guide, (his name is Tee) is a nice local guy. He played guitar for us one night and altered the words to his favorite Bob Marley songs, including my personal favorite, "I shot the tourist," (formerly " I shot the sheriff"). I forget if I already mentioned that or not.
I'm very tired right now so I apologize for the lack of enthusiasm in this entry. I'd like to write more but I'm pooped and I need to get a nap in before I go out tonight... I'm going to a THai boxing match!!!!!! I hear the best part is the crowd. ANyhow, perhaps Í can finish up tomorrow because I think I'll have more time then before I head down south. Love all you guyses.
katie
p.s. here is a quote i've been thinking about everyday:
"And yet, and yet... denying temporal sucession, denying the self, denying the astronomica universe, are apparent desperations and secret consolations. Our destiny is not frightful by being unreal; it is frightful because it is irreversible and iron-clad. Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges."
-jorge luis borges "a new refutation of time"1946 essay
Monday, May 14, 2007
Sorry I can't post pictures because I didn't bring my usb. I'll upload them when I get back though.
I am currently in CHiang Rai, just north of Chiang Mai, where I was when I last wrote. Here's the latest update of my activities:
1. I ate a bug. Actually I ate several, including one large fried cricket which stuck to the roof of my mouth. They didn't taste bad at all-- the hardest part was getting over the way it looked. Actually they were heavily salted and sprinkled with pepper. Not bad, but I won't ever eat one again.
2. I've been trekking in the mountains. There was no trail, but our guide had a machete, which the people around here call an "akon." He walked in front and cut away the trees and bushes as we walked hestitantly along mountain sides in the insanely intolerable heat. Humidity is nature's turtle-neck sweater.
3. I slept inside a mosquito net, which is something I've always wanted to do, for no particular reason except that I've always thought they looked neat. Actually our first night in the hill tribe we slept in a hut all together, on thin mats on the bamboo floor. THe ceiling was made of bamboo also, as well as something that looked like palm fronds all bunched together to keep the rain out. That night it poured and poured outside. THe roof held well mostly, except for a few drops that kept sprinkling my face from time to time. The bad part was the roosters... oh the roosters. There were a great deal of animals around, mostly pigs and piglets, chickens, and sad little dogs. Well as soon as the sky turned slightly lighter, every single rooster on that mountain began to screech. It lasted forever, but I managed to get some sleep. The next morning I ate my scrambled eggs with ferver, feeling like I'd found adequate revenge in eating their unborn children. Gross? I know.
3. I trekked in a constant downpour. It reminded me of that scene in forest gump when he's in vietnam and describing all the different types of rain. "Some rain even seemed to come straight up from below." It was definitely not as bad as all that, but we were slipping all over the place in the mud while climbing, and mind you--- still NO TRAIL. Still, it was far easier than the first day. Anything beats that heat.
4. I covered myself in tobacco water... to avoid the leeches!!!! AHhhhh!! We had to wade through the river a couple times, where apparently there are many leeches. That part freaked me out the most, but I didn't get hit. In fact, nobody did.
5. (best part) I rode an elephant. At first I was in a basket on top of the elephant with this girl JoAnn, who was scared out of her mind. I don't blame her either, those baskets were very high up, and the mountian sides very steep. Anyways our guide rode directly on the elephant's neck. At one point he turned around and asked me (in hand motions and thai) if I wanted to sit on the elephant's neck. I said yes, and climbed down behind him. But then the guide jumped down off the elephant and went to go pick some berries (arg!!!) and I was left "driving" the big bristly thing. It reminded me of horseback riding in Mexico. The elepahnt was reluctant to follow direction and kept eating the shrubery along the way, and going off course whenever he could. But by the end we were good pals, and I earned the respect of the elephant guides. They even shared one of their banannas with me, which looked gross and felt all wet, but I ate a bite of it before I pretended that my elephant stole it from me ( i fed it to him). Unfortunately I got sick later because of that bananna I think.
Anyways we took a boat ride back to chiang rai and I'm soooooooooo tired. I can't wait to sleep ina real bed, and I am very VERY relieved to be not covered in mud.
Hope all is well at home, let me know whats going on around there when you have the time!!
love, katie
I am currently in CHiang Rai, just north of Chiang Mai, where I was when I last wrote. Here's the latest update of my activities:
1. I ate a bug. Actually I ate several, including one large fried cricket which stuck to the roof of my mouth. They didn't taste bad at all-- the hardest part was getting over the way it looked. Actually they were heavily salted and sprinkled with pepper. Not bad, but I won't ever eat one again.
2. I've been trekking in the mountains. There was no trail, but our guide had a machete, which the people around here call an "akon." He walked in front and cut away the trees and bushes as we walked hestitantly along mountain sides in the insanely intolerable heat. Humidity is nature's turtle-neck sweater.
3. I slept inside a mosquito net, which is something I've always wanted to do, for no particular reason except that I've always thought they looked neat. Actually our first night in the hill tribe we slept in a hut all together, on thin mats on the bamboo floor. THe ceiling was made of bamboo also, as well as something that looked like palm fronds all bunched together to keep the rain out. That night it poured and poured outside. THe roof held well mostly, except for a few drops that kept sprinkling my face from time to time. The bad part was the roosters... oh the roosters. There were a great deal of animals around, mostly pigs and piglets, chickens, and sad little dogs. Well as soon as the sky turned slightly lighter, every single rooster on that mountain began to screech. It lasted forever, but I managed to get some sleep. The next morning I ate my scrambled eggs with ferver, feeling like I'd found adequate revenge in eating their unborn children. Gross? I know.
3. I trekked in a constant downpour. It reminded me of that scene in forest gump when he's in vietnam and describing all the different types of rain. "Some rain even seemed to come straight up from below." It was definitely not as bad as all that, but we were slipping all over the place in the mud while climbing, and mind you--- still NO TRAIL. Still, it was far easier than the first day. Anything beats that heat.
4. I covered myself in tobacco water... to avoid the leeches!!!! AHhhhh!! We had to wade through the river a couple times, where apparently there are many leeches. That part freaked me out the most, but I didn't get hit. In fact, nobody did.
5. (best part) I rode an elephant. At first I was in a basket on top of the elephant with this girl JoAnn, who was scared out of her mind. I don't blame her either, those baskets were very high up, and the mountian sides very steep. Anyways our guide rode directly on the elephant's neck. At one point he turned around and asked me (in hand motions and thai) if I wanted to sit on the elephant's neck. I said yes, and climbed down behind him. But then the guide jumped down off the elephant and went to go pick some berries (arg!!!) and I was left "driving" the big bristly thing. It reminded me of horseback riding in Mexico. The elepahnt was reluctant to follow direction and kept eating the shrubery along the way, and going off course whenever he could. But by the end we were good pals, and I earned the respect of the elephant guides. They even shared one of their banannas with me, which looked gross and felt all wet, but I ate a bite of it before I pretended that my elephant stole it from me ( i fed it to him). Unfortunately I got sick later because of that bananna I think.
Anyways we took a boat ride back to chiang rai and I'm soooooooooo tired. I can't wait to sleep ina real bed, and I am very VERY relieved to be not covered in mud.
Hope all is well at home, let me know whats going on around there when you have the time!!
love, katie
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