What I was and where I'm at?

While the adventures have subsided to some degree, the experience continues to be an enriching memory that will enhance permanently the dopamine and seratonin that fire the synapses in my ever expanding mind. I love that out of the blue for no apparent reason I have to kick myself and say "I'm on the other side of the frigging world"as I gaze out into my immediate environment that at first gave me my only legitimate "chill" in the tropics. I now look upon this environment with satisfied contentment. It might be as I drive down the beach road looking out at the habour and the vividly green hillside in the background, or sitting with my mates for dinner in the evening or during a meeting with people with funny names and even funnier accents. Right now, at this point in my life, I can't see myself anywhere else on this vast planet than right here, even though an outsider or temporary visitor might view less favorably. While harsh there is something seductively attractive about this place. Living versus visiting, anywhere will grant you a special gift that is only given upon commitment of something that the irrational mind will otherwise haunt you with impetuous notions of impending doom.


Leaving the literature behind let me explain the epiphany of my previously comfortable, perfectly respectable, middleclass life of 48 years in a quaint, very cold, yet very warm city landlocked a thousand kilometers from any saltwater (though most don't consider Hudson Bay to be saltwater). One theory that comes to mind is that humans (yumans for Jo and I) are arguably the most adaptable of all creatures. Perhaps so as things that might otherwise cause me great concern at home I now take in stride: brushing teeth with bottled water, no fresh green iceberg lettuce salad, strange and abundant quantities of bugs, communication or lack thereof, traffic anarchy, poverty and filth, a bathroom at work which I have to enter after inhaling my last breath coupled with nowhere to wash your hands adequately (yes I'm a bit obsessive). Not to obsess on my obsessiveness but while most restaruants have a sink and soap what they usually don't have is a place to dry your hands; with luck there might be either a well used towel or a box of kleenex. There is a nice Thai place we frequent that works well in this regard as it has a real table cloth to dry your hands with. Perhaps that is there intent as there is nothing in the bathroom otherwise. In terms of bugs, as well as in India, these little ants are everywhere, at work, at home, by the pool, streaming in rank order and going about their busy life with no regard that we are there. Or when I am using my computer in the evening the monitor attracts these strange half ant, half fly things, which luckily are not very quick, but mess up my monitor with bug guts. Or the other night we were out at a beach front restaurant and I look down to see what I mistook for a tarantula walking across the floor but turned out to be a crab. No big deal, look down say neat and get back to your meal. Imagine your reaction if you saw the catch of the day doing the same at your local Red Lobster! But it's OK - and using the cliche: 'when in rome, do as the romans' you accept that this isn't Winnipeg but a poor island nation that has only been such for 2 years, Europe has several hundred/thousand years of experience to draw on and yet everyone there continues to all smoke! Things take time, and while my time has taken me to this strange, yet attractive nation of timor leste it all seems so good, so right, right now.


Take today for example, for me Feb 25 of Ash Wednesday. While it was marked on the calender as being a holiday, all day long rumors circulated as to whether it would be a half day or whole day off. We had settled on the former. Then between 5 and 5:30 (we go home at 5:30) we had a rash of activity - first it was a optional half day - take the morning be back for the afternoon or vice versa, then 5 minutes after it was the whole day (a direct memo from the prime minister), then after further translation back to the half day. I finally gave up, wanting my first day off since Xmas, said to hell with it I'm taking the whole day off. My breakfast buddy, Larence (sorry spelling a french woman's name) at the ADB, after hearing my story simply said: people here, in the face of indecision simply don't show up for work. That all said here I am back at work for a part day, more so to make an appearence, for the few poeple that did show up for work.


So as I continue my journey here, time suddenly goes quickly, days become weeks become months become my year - then what? There is some talk about Madacascar in a couple of years (once they stop killing each other) - I told myself that I would go into this with a blank sheet - let it take me anywhere circumstance dictate, whether home, or some other exotic place that no one would willingly go, I will see when the time comes? In some regards I feel I'm living a life that I envied in others when I was just out of high school, and while I was exigent about my future and rushing to get into university, others were travelling the world being a vagabond for an indeterminent amount of time - and would eventually reintegrate to the real world. I just got lucky as I am too much of a middle class cow and could not possbly travel now with little or no money. I'm lucky I guess in that I'm doing it now and notwithstanding some of the hardships here, living in comfort and getting paid handsomely to do so. That said, call me crazy (probably) but to hedge my bets I had my brother order me a sucessor to Big Jim! I call it my $700 insurance policy! I certainly won't need it this winter or probably next (January in hind sight is a stupid time to start - no holidays for a long time and right dab in the middle of winter, extending for 2 or 3 in 2010 now only makes sense does it not)? For those of you not familiar with one of my many idiosycrasies Big Jim is my parka, or ultimate winter weapon which I love like a
brother.


As I mentioned previously, like anywhere you wait for the weekends and last weekend I realized that my weekends are bliss - once the hectic life of the office is behind you the weekends, every weekend, becomes like two days in mexico or other winter vacation wonderland. You can indulge yourself, for me its sitting around the pool, read a bit, swim or sit in the water, whatever. While disappointed somewhat about today that it wasn't a real day off its no big deal and beside what started as a sunny day is now overcast and a shower just passed over us.


As an end to this story I can only say that you are attracted to the strangest things - in this case it is not the attractive Austrailiian expat I hoped to meet (yet) but the land and the people. I am attached to this place, though difficult to articulate, perhaps it is the indelable human spirit that always sees the good, and over looks the bad despite the situation. As much as I hate some things about this place, some things I have come to love.


Alone but not lonely in a strange far away land
Is home now marked by the snow or by the sand?