Month: February 2011

Tweet

Some people have suggested that I start a twitter account. While I don’t know if this is feasible at the moment, I actually “tweet” all the time… in my head, on my hand, in my notebook, on the computer. [Wait, is this tweeting? I don’t really know how all this works.]

This was today:

8:20am – Alarm. It’s cold; don’t want to get out of bed. But have to make pie.

10:54am – K steals two slices of my green apples. Luxury apples.

2:10pm – I see the forested hills beyond the valley. The billowing smoke reminds me of forest fires in Kelowna. Two boys are smoking.

2:40pm – Crying in the graveyard.

5:16pm – Looking at myself in the bathroom mirror dressed in my white shirt, black sweater, and black fleece jacket combo and I think to myself, I look like a Mormon.

8:18pm – World needs more hugs.

1:00am – It’s storming outside, and I’ve forgotten that this is one of the rainiest places in the world.

2:00am – Excited to make popovers tomorrow morning. Must sleep early.

 

music: stevie wonder – conversation peace

Magic

Looking out the window from the second floor dental office, the scene seems oddly magical, with grit. Bubbles float through the pale sky, and there’s that elderly Bihari man blowing them from his bottle. Beside him two younger vendors jostle playfully, while one tries to hold on to his over-sized Hello Kitty balloons. Winter is waning this afternoon. The street is sparsely populated, revealing the scatterings of garbage over the muddied road. And in the dentist’s office, a effervescent melody continues listlessly, taking no mind of the life beyond these walls.

 

music: gustavo santaolalla – riding horses

Steady

The phone rings while I’m at the library. I’m the only patron in the four-story building, so I take the call. “Hello sir, we’re doing a survey on married couples so I’d like to ask you a few questions,” says the lady on the other side. “Okay.” “Are you married?” “No, I’m not married,” I reply. “Okay, thanks for your time.” I return to my books, a treasure-trove of regional data, for the next few hours. The light fades as the sun sets; past the window I see construction workers still working at restoring this theological center. Beyond the work site is the church steeple, and the greying hills. I leave quietly in the night when the building closes, staring at the statue of Jesus, centrally located in the roundabout. Two plastic flower wreathes adorn the engraved scriptures on the ground. The candles have been melted down, flames extinguished. Back home, my host parents are listening to themselves on the radio, to a recorded taping of a valentine’s special on the show, Love Zone. Later at night, I watch a clip of La Vie en Rose where Edith collapses on stage in New York. Something feels unfinished.

music: john coltrane – too young to go steady

Midnight Craving, I

While I’m not that big of a meat-eater, it isn’t surprising that I often desire to bite into a moist slab of ground beef sandwiched between two tender buns… fatty juices erupting from the corners of my mouth. While the hill area isn’t a particularly Hindu region, those running more Westernized restaurants that serve such items as “pizza” or “milkshake” tend to be run by Indian people from the plains. In short, this means no 100% beef burger. I didn’t buy that 89 baht burger in Bangkok pictured above (we walked by that advertisement straight to the ramen) but I did stock up during my visits to Mos Burger. Either would be good right now, plus fries, chicken nuggets, and ice cream.