i have gotten used to having internet just about everywhere i go. having a constant connection to the world is something technology people really come to rely on. i can send email, im or have ip based phone calls anytime and anywhere. well, that’s almost anytime. the exclusion appears to be indonesia during a rain storm.
i went to a café the other day and had to ask the it guy for help getting connected. there seemed to be an issue with the WiFi connection they were providing. the first and most quickly corrected issue was that they were charging for internet, something i had not expected. i asked why, given the location i would have assumed they would provide it free.
he explained to me that he was paying rupiah 14,000,000 per month for 364 bits per second. this is about the same price we pay for 6 mega bits (18 times more) of connection for the office, with the amount of bandwidth i have with the GPRS/3G connection of my hand phone. meaning the café is sharing a connection for all its patrons, at the price of a high speed leased line in malaysia, and getting the underpowered service of typical hand phone connection. he explained this as the reason for needing to charge; i had to agree i would have charged as well.
my hand phone has been mostly useless this trip. i have sms, and have made phone calls with one of the worst connections i have heard in asia. this is much worse than the service i got in india and vietnam. this is my new grading system for asian countries, how well they provide cheap, stable and affordable internet/phone connections. indonesia is way behind on the curve. malaysia is well ahead, malaysia has spoiled me by having such stable and wide connectivity. of course i am on a island, during a sever rain storm, not in a capital city. i guess i need a trip to jakarta for a fair comparison.
the storm has taken down the connection at the resort also. i am almost completely packed. i planned on spending a bit of time easing back into work by catching up on email, but there is no way. i have returned my moto and don’t want to walk to a café to do the email. i have decided to sit in the open air reception area, typing and enjoying the feel of wind on the side of my face. the blinking christmas tree a nice contrast to the hindu statues which dominate the entrances to the classic polynesian space.
it’s almost a relief that the vacation will end without work. the relaxed nature of the past six days has been assisted by the ability to completely disconnect and get away from all things stressful. the moments of tension i have felt this week have been those times when i did reach out to the world, or allowed the world to come into my balinese vacation.
it has been good to take a few days and to trade my free internet world for one that is free of internet. the disconnection has been what i needed. i am hours away from an airplane ride that will take me back to my standard level of connection. i am looking forward to landing and cleaning up my inbox while i am waiting for my bag to come off the carousel. until then i have time to sit and enjoy the last few hours of separation from the world.
I am going to go down to the beach; I want to see the waves breaking onto the shore. Water pushed by wind and tide, collapsing under its own weight as it is confronted with the sand. Being internet free is like being that water, fluidly passing through the day with nothing to stop or alter its motion.
As I land in a few hours, the welcome connection to the world will also bring the mounting pressure of water behind me. The trick will be to find a way to act as the gently breaking waves which slide onto the beach, lapping at the sand softly.
Free internet is good, internet free is also.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
monsoon christmas
i went to sleep last night to the pleasant sound of steady rain outside my hotel room. i woke to the same, the melody of the drops hitting the tile floor are soft and soothing. it is the kind of sound you can lay and enjoy for hours, both for the pure comfort of the sound and because you know leaving the your darkened room will involve braving the storm.
today is christmas day. calls have been made to say merry christmas to friends and family. my hand phone has been beeping with sms all day as other friends close the gaps of space with short messages of noel. a few of these holiday wishes have come from people i thought had forgotten me entirely, those messages were mostly broadcast types, so maybe they have. others were personalized and personal. a chance for a friend to connect and wish another friend good wishes on a special day.
it has been raining in bali for most of the time i have been here. the past few days have been a complete wash out, heavy rains that have flooded the streets and kept most people hidden under atap. the sky will lighten and darken as the day goes on, but the steady rain never seems to end. the sounds of running or falling water is ever present. even inside with music or television on, the sound is there to remind you that the storm continues.
i went out last night for a traditional christmas eve dinner of fajitas and watered down slushy margaritas. this was in a club that overlooks the monument built at the sight of the christmas bombings a few years ago. as i ate i could see the list of names of the fallen. although the pseudo-mexican (hey it’s better than i can find in kl so i am not complaining) was just okay, the crepe at the end was very good and the coffee was a nice plus. as i asked for the bill, i noticed a few drops of rain on the street. after i had paid the bill i looked up with trepidation, those drops had turned into a sheet of falling rain with strong wind driving it into the glass wall to the outside.
the patrons on the balcony were brought inside and the sliding doors were closed. as i sat, my change in front of me, i tried to decide if this was a squall which would pass or a storm which would last too long for me to sit it out among the crowd. after a few minutes i decided to brave the storm without a rain coat, thoughts of bumping along on my moto dodging hidden holes in the indonesian roads. the real issue was that the rain was so heavy; i knew i would need to ride without my glasses, meaning dark, wet, flooded streets with less than perfect vision. what could go wrong?
as i drove past the wind swept beach, squinting my eyes against the heavy drops being blasted into my face, i remembered riding my bike home on a christmas night when i was a teen. i had been out with my friends and had… well lets say we had enjoyed the christmas cheer and were very relaxed by the end of the night. i was riding home, feeling snow on my face, slightly stinging as the cold touched my warm cheeks. as i glided into a corner, there was a car making a turn and i was going too fast, i hit the breaks hard and went into a slide which sent me quickly to the ground. on that dark and cold night i slid through the icy intersection tumbling between two moving cars. i could easily have ended up under the wheels of one of these cars, but was somehow protected from real harm and walked away with bumps and an understanding that i was just given a new chance.
this night years ago was with me as i drove in this new storm, half a world away from my former home, during a monsoon and with vision blurred by rain and lack of corrective lenses. the blurriness brought back the thought of this prior stupid event. here i was years later, older, smarter and still willing to believe that if i went out into the storm i could find my way with at worst a few bumps and bruises. this time i made it with no crash. i went to bed after a warming shower, snuggled in and slept to the sound of the drops outside my door. reminding me that the storm was going to last longer than the drive, and that i was right to not try to avoid going out in the rain. even if it was scary at points, it was worth it to be able to sleep safely in a warm bed.
this morning, christmas morning, came with rain still falling. it’s now christmas night, the storm has only gotten worse. i am again snuggled in, and listening to the drops. other than sms and calls to loved ones i have avoided the holiday completely. i have come to an island paradise and ridden out the storm. i have braved the rain, and realized that later the sun will come out. i am hoping the next time in paradise is warm and sunny, but i can accept that this time it ended in days of rain.
i have enjoyed my monsoon christmas, i will never forget the sound of the rain.
today is christmas day. calls have been made to say merry christmas to friends and family. my hand phone has been beeping with sms all day as other friends close the gaps of space with short messages of noel. a few of these holiday wishes have come from people i thought had forgotten me entirely, those messages were mostly broadcast types, so maybe they have. others were personalized and personal. a chance for a friend to connect and wish another friend good wishes on a special day.
it has been raining in bali for most of the time i have been here. the past few days have been a complete wash out, heavy rains that have flooded the streets and kept most people hidden under atap. the sky will lighten and darken as the day goes on, but the steady rain never seems to end. the sounds of running or falling water is ever present. even inside with music or television on, the sound is there to remind you that the storm continues.
i went out last night for a traditional christmas eve dinner of fajitas and watered down slushy margaritas. this was in a club that overlooks the monument built at the sight of the christmas bombings a few years ago. as i ate i could see the list of names of the fallen. although the pseudo-mexican (hey it’s better than i can find in kl so i am not complaining) was just okay, the crepe at the end was very good and the coffee was a nice plus. as i asked for the bill, i noticed a few drops of rain on the street. after i had paid the bill i looked up with trepidation, those drops had turned into a sheet of falling rain with strong wind driving it into the glass wall to the outside.
the patrons on the balcony were brought inside and the sliding doors were closed. as i sat, my change in front of me, i tried to decide if this was a squall which would pass or a storm which would last too long for me to sit it out among the crowd. after a few minutes i decided to brave the storm without a rain coat, thoughts of bumping along on my moto dodging hidden holes in the indonesian roads. the real issue was that the rain was so heavy; i knew i would need to ride without my glasses, meaning dark, wet, flooded streets with less than perfect vision. what could go wrong?
as i drove past the wind swept beach, squinting my eyes against the heavy drops being blasted into my face, i remembered riding my bike home on a christmas night when i was a teen. i had been out with my friends and had… well lets say we had enjoyed the christmas cheer and were very relaxed by the end of the night. i was riding home, feeling snow on my face, slightly stinging as the cold touched my warm cheeks. as i glided into a corner, there was a car making a turn and i was going too fast, i hit the breaks hard and went into a slide which sent me quickly to the ground. on that dark and cold night i slid through the icy intersection tumbling between two moving cars. i could easily have ended up under the wheels of one of these cars, but was somehow protected from real harm and walked away with bumps and an understanding that i was just given a new chance.
this night years ago was with me as i drove in this new storm, half a world away from my former home, during a monsoon and with vision blurred by rain and lack of corrective lenses. the blurriness brought back the thought of this prior stupid event. here i was years later, older, smarter and still willing to believe that if i went out into the storm i could find my way with at worst a few bumps and bruises. this time i made it with no crash. i went to bed after a warming shower, snuggled in and slept to the sound of the drops outside my door. reminding me that the storm was going to last longer than the drive, and that i was right to not try to avoid going out in the rain. even if it was scary at points, it was worth it to be able to sleep safely in a warm bed.
this morning, christmas morning, came with rain still falling. it’s now christmas night, the storm has only gotten worse. i am again snuggled in, and listening to the drops. other than sms and calls to loved ones i have avoided the holiday completely. i have come to an island paradise and ridden out the storm. i have braved the rain, and realized that later the sun will come out. i am hoping the next time in paradise is warm and sunny, but i can accept that this time it ended in days of rain.
i have enjoyed my monsoon christmas, i will never forget the sound of the rain.
Monday, December 24, 2007
christmas wishes
it is that time of year. there is no avoiding it, christmas is here. i really have done my best to avoid it. i have one no christmas shopping, not one thing. this is the first time since i was, 12 i guess, that i have not gone out and done christmas shopping. instead, i have run away to a polynesian island full of hindus and muslims, which has horrible internet connection to the outside world, hoping to not be reminded of the holiday. christmas is in two days, and i feel no stress or pressure at all.
i do have some christmas presents i want to give, but since i have done no shopping it will have to be things which i can not purchase. i will not use names, but when i give you your present, sorry i didn’t wrap the gift. [i can wrap now, i had to learn a few years ago, one more skill from growing up and finding independence].
to all my friends at work, i hope you can all make a trip to polynesia soon, if not i hope you find your own way to relax and reflect on the important things in life. work is not life, lets all give ourselves the ability to have balance in the coming year.
i have a friend who is horrible with communication. to this person i would like to give the ability to communicate openly, with themselves and those around them. keeping things hidden, not admitting the reality of the situation and hoping that others don’t find out is not a way to live. it impacts others, hoping that it doesn’t is not enough. to this friend i give the ability to communicate, first of all to them self.
i have a friend who has just made a hard decision, and is not sure if they can go thru with the plan the decision is based on. fear of the future and the regret for the past are the issues blocking you. i give you strength to see the plan thru. if this is what you need than make sure that you get it.
to my friend who is hiding in the hospital and not telling others they are there, first i say congratulations on pulling off a plan that has all the markings of a well run CIA operation. i give health and stability. you deserve both and i hope this year you have it.
to my friend who is always immersed in work, and who is not sure if others can be trusted enough to take the time to give them a chance, i give courage and luck. the courage is to allow you to let someone in, and the luck is to find someone who is worth taking the chance.
to my friend who has been struggling to make a decision, you know what you need to do. i give you the clarity to finally see that you can trust your instincts and move forward. you deserve to be happy; i hope the clarity allows you to see that also.
finally, to my friend who believes they need to stay a course because of how their decisions will be seen by others. i give you the ability to understand that you need to come first, and that others will understand that you need to do things to be happy. if they love you, they will support you, if they don’t support you, well to you i will give a second gift the ability to tell them it’s just too f-ing bad.
to each of my children, i give you the love that fills my heart every single day. you are each perfect in yourself, and i love you all for who you are. you also each light my life. i give you the ability to see how much you mean to me, and feel the warmth of that light from the other side of the planet.
to the rest of my family, i give you all health and happiness. i am sorry i am not there to wish you merry christmas in person. i hope you know i never wanted anytime more than to spend one more christmas with you, always.
merry christmas to all of you, for those of you who do not celebrate christmas, enjoy your presents anyway, they are from the heart.
i do have some christmas presents i want to give, but since i have done no shopping it will have to be things which i can not purchase. i will not use names, but when i give you your present, sorry i didn’t wrap the gift. [i can wrap now, i had to learn a few years ago, one more skill from growing up and finding independence].
to all my friends at work, i hope you can all make a trip to polynesia soon, if not i hope you find your own way to relax and reflect on the important things in life. work is not life, lets all give ourselves the ability to have balance in the coming year.
i have a friend who is horrible with communication. to this person i would like to give the ability to communicate openly, with themselves and those around them. keeping things hidden, not admitting the reality of the situation and hoping that others don’t find out is not a way to live. it impacts others, hoping that it doesn’t is not enough. to this friend i give the ability to communicate, first of all to them self.
i have a friend who has just made a hard decision, and is not sure if they can go thru with the plan the decision is based on. fear of the future and the regret for the past are the issues blocking you. i give you strength to see the plan thru. if this is what you need than make sure that you get it.
to my friend who is hiding in the hospital and not telling others they are there, first i say congratulations on pulling off a plan that has all the markings of a well run CIA operation. i give health and stability. you deserve both and i hope this year you have it.
to my friend who is always immersed in work, and who is not sure if others can be trusted enough to take the time to give them a chance, i give courage and luck. the courage is to allow you to let someone in, and the luck is to find someone who is worth taking the chance.
to my friend who has been struggling to make a decision, you know what you need to do. i give you the clarity to finally see that you can trust your instincts and move forward. you deserve to be happy; i hope the clarity allows you to see that also.
finally, to my friend who believes they need to stay a course because of how their decisions will be seen by others. i give you the ability to understand that you need to come first, and that others will understand that you need to do things to be happy. if they love you, they will support you, if they don’t support you, well to you i will give a second gift the ability to tell them it’s just too f-ing bad.
to each of my children, i give you the love that fills my heart every single day. you are each perfect in yourself, and i love you all for who you are. you also each light my life. i give you the ability to see how much you mean to me, and feel the warmth of that light from the other side of the planet.
to the rest of my family, i give you all health and happiness. i am sorry i am not there to wish you merry christmas in person. i hope you know i never wanted anytime more than to spend one more christmas with you, always.
merry christmas to all of you, for those of you who do not celebrate christmas, enjoy your presents anyway, they are from the heart.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
i charlotte
i have had a realization. i have been thinking about the characters on shows i like and who i most deeply identify with. this is game i have played in the past, as you watch or as you are talking to others about a show, a character or a scene you can start to shadows of the virtual acquaintances (dare i say friends) within yourself or the person you are talking to.
i have shows i enjoy. with my schedule and my tendency to nest when i have down time, i like to frequent my local dvd shop and purchase series, which i can then watch straight thru. the most recent purchases have been “my name is earl”, “dexter”, “black donnellys” and “entourage” (season 4). they are shows about a loser recovering his life by recognizing karma, a serial-killer who kills with a conscience, a group of irish-american gangsters (who are surprisingly like my friends when i was growing up) and a movie star and his friends living “in the business” of hollywood.
in each of these shows, and others, there are characters or situations i can identify with. earl, who lives his life with a new code of ethics built on a comment made by late night talk show host, is an example. as long as he does good things, good things happen. more or less the same situation as my belief that if i am stay calm and relaxed i will have good things happen; but that frustration will bring me bad instead. i can also see myself in ari, the super-agent who focuses on work, many times at the expense of the rest of his life.
one show that stands out though is “sex in the city”. sitc is one of those shows that will come back to you over and over as you live. the structure of the show is built to show you the sides of yourself which we all have within us. the men and women of the show are presented to highlight the different thoughts or reactions we each have; the round-table discussions and carrie’s reflective writing is a vehicle to allow the show’s writers to explore the differences between the characters. the show is kept non-judgmental to allow the audience to see lifestyles are open to differences of opinion as to what is “proper”. the differences show us that we can be multi-faceted ourselves without guilt or confusion.
i have always seen myself in that show as a mix of the male characters. at work and at times in my personal life i am big. the fact that he loves carrie, but is still able to lead a life away from her without remorse resonates. he also seems to be there when carrie needs him most, whether it’s a ride or a shoulder to cry on, big finds a way to be there. but i am also a bit like aden, the creative and sensitive furniture maker who proposed from his knee and only wanted to make carrie happy.
the realization is that i can look to the women also and find parts of myself. i may just as likely to be one of the women in the show. as a lesbian in a man’s body, i can identify with the women. samantha is the most male of the women but she is too over the top for me, she does not need a relationship, she just wants a night. carrie is able to see others well and writes, but is too indecisive, she says she wants it all, but she seems to stay alone and looking to the end (did she and big really work, i doubt it but lets see when the movie comes out). miranda is the one i normally identify with, smart and driven, capable and never needing someone to complete her. she is a person who knows herself, but she is also too hard on others to let them in (poor steve, falling in love with a lesbian).
leaving us with charlotte, who in the show is the most shy of the women. she spells s.e.x, rather than saying it out loud. she is shocked by many of the exploits of her friends, but she is never judgmental. she is also the one that most badly wants a family. she tries so hard, and can not seem to find the way to make this happen. i am not like charlotte early in the show; i am more like the person she is transforming into as the show comes to an end. she has become more jaded and practical, but she never becomes the harsher side which her friends represent. she ends up with her lawyer, who she doesn’t really like at first, just taking him for s.e.x. and falls in love with him. she also accepts him, even when he takes her at his word and “gets comfortable” in there home. okay, i look and act a lot like the lawyer. i am also known for “getting comfortable”, but i think i am more like charlotte herself.
she needs the relationship to be happy, she never loses her sense of hope and belief in good things, and in the end she finds happiness in a place she did not think she would ever find it. i think i share these things with the little debutant. now, all i need is a flaming little pr/stylist who will take me shopping for a wedding dress and always tell me its time to move on and not look back. someone to scream at those around me and protect me from myself when i lose confidence or when i am not willing to take a risk.
charlotte just wanted to find someone nice, someone to make a life with, to have it all and to enjoy the world as she did it. this is what i identify most with, no matter what happened in her life she knew she did need someone, that their feelings mattered and that at some point she needed to make a decision and trust the future. the goodness in charlotte is the part of i love the most.
i hope i am charlotte, my other choice is dr. gregory “house”. i would rather be hopeful and happy than scarcastic and self medicating. I would rather see the world as happy and exciting, than to view the world as a puzzle built on lies. we all have many sides, but we need to remember what sides we are going to foster and develop.
i pick charlotte.
i have shows i enjoy. with my schedule and my tendency to nest when i have down time, i like to frequent my local dvd shop and purchase series, which i can then watch straight thru. the most recent purchases have been “my name is earl”, “dexter”, “black donnellys” and “entourage” (season 4). they are shows about a loser recovering his life by recognizing karma, a serial-killer who kills with a conscience, a group of irish-american gangsters (who are surprisingly like my friends when i was growing up) and a movie star and his friends living “in the business” of hollywood.
in each of these shows, and others, there are characters or situations i can identify with. earl, who lives his life with a new code of ethics built on a comment made by late night talk show host, is an example. as long as he does good things, good things happen. more or less the same situation as my belief that if i am stay calm and relaxed i will have good things happen; but that frustration will bring me bad instead. i can also see myself in ari, the super-agent who focuses on work, many times at the expense of the rest of his life.
one show that stands out though is “sex in the city”. sitc is one of those shows that will come back to you over and over as you live. the structure of the show is built to show you the sides of yourself which we all have within us. the men and women of the show are presented to highlight the different thoughts or reactions we each have; the round-table discussions and carrie’s reflective writing is a vehicle to allow the show’s writers to explore the differences between the characters. the show is kept non-judgmental to allow the audience to see lifestyles are open to differences of opinion as to what is “proper”. the differences show us that we can be multi-faceted ourselves without guilt or confusion.
i have always seen myself in that show as a mix of the male characters. at work and at times in my personal life i am big. the fact that he loves carrie, but is still able to lead a life away from her without remorse resonates. he also seems to be there when carrie needs him most, whether it’s a ride or a shoulder to cry on, big finds a way to be there. but i am also a bit like aden, the creative and sensitive furniture maker who proposed from his knee and only wanted to make carrie happy.
the realization is that i can look to the women also and find parts of myself. i may just as likely to be one of the women in the show. as a lesbian in a man’s body, i can identify with the women. samantha is the most male of the women but she is too over the top for me, she does not need a relationship, she just wants a night. carrie is able to see others well and writes, but is too indecisive, she says she wants it all, but she seems to stay alone and looking to the end (did she and big really work, i doubt it but lets see when the movie comes out). miranda is the one i normally identify with, smart and driven, capable and never needing someone to complete her. she is a person who knows herself, but she is also too hard on others to let them in (poor steve, falling in love with a lesbian).
leaving us with charlotte, who in the show is the most shy of the women. she spells s.e.x, rather than saying it out loud. she is shocked by many of the exploits of her friends, but she is never judgmental. she is also the one that most badly wants a family. she tries so hard, and can not seem to find the way to make this happen. i am not like charlotte early in the show; i am more like the person she is transforming into as the show comes to an end. she has become more jaded and practical, but she never becomes the harsher side which her friends represent. she ends up with her lawyer, who she doesn’t really like at first, just taking him for s.e.x. and falls in love with him. she also accepts him, even when he takes her at his word and “gets comfortable” in there home. okay, i look and act a lot like the lawyer. i am also known for “getting comfortable”, but i think i am more like charlotte herself.
she needs the relationship to be happy, she never loses her sense of hope and belief in good things, and in the end she finds happiness in a place she did not think she would ever find it. i think i share these things with the little debutant. now, all i need is a flaming little pr/stylist who will take me shopping for a wedding dress and always tell me its time to move on and not look back. someone to scream at those around me and protect me from myself when i lose confidence or when i am not willing to take a risk.
charlotte just wanted to find someone nice, someone to make a life with, to have it all and to enjoy the world as she did it. this is what i identify most with, no matter what happened in her life she knew she did need someone, that their feelings mattered and that at some point she needed to make a decision and trust the future. the goodness in charlotte is the part of i love the most.
i hope i am charlotte, my other choice is dr. gregory “house”. i would rather be hopeful and happy than scarcastic and self medicating. I would rather see the world as happy and exciting, than to view the world as a puzzle built on lies. we all have many sides, but we need to remember what sides we are going to foster and develop.
i pick charlotte.
relaxed bali
i decided last week, after weeks of indecision, to get away from KL for the holidays and go to a beach resort known for christmas bombings targeting bule (indonesian for matsalleh). december is just not turning out the way i would have planned. but, bali seems to be the trick to counter the past few weeks of unending work stress and of a looming holiday i wish to simply avoid. i feel better after a day here than i have in KL in two years. my image of indonesia was completely wrong, i am not sure if it’s the whole country, but this island is a gem that i hope to see a lot of.
landing in denpasar was an experience; water on both sides of the runway and landing over surfers riding waves was something you just don't see in KLIA. immigration was also and experience… well lets say its what i have expected to see in other parts of asia, and have been surprised when it was not. an hour long wait in a line of travel weary, and somewhat smelly, europeans. somehow the moods stayed upbeat, even while the single threaded queue stalled waiting for the pleasant drones to process and stamp the USD 10 “visa on arrival” that every passenger seemed to need. the process took three booths, one to pay, one to give visa, one to stamp visa. my ipod with “bowling for soup” and “r. l. burnside” got me though it.
the roads in bali are a mix of vietnam and india. motos create their own lanes on the littered highway; weaving between cars slowly passing rice paddies, with workers trying to squeeze out a crop. the interesting thing is that the roads also feel like the us. the shops on the side, the signs, the brands, the simple vibe of the people feels more like a summer resort in the us than anything i have ever felt in asia. renting a moto was the best choice i have made here. for the price of a round trip taxi from my hotel to kuta (34,000 rupiah or USD 3.60) i have complete freedom to get lost on my own.
my first full day here was spent mostly relaxing. i am on my 6th or so day of no hunger. i woke up this morning and stayed in bed, i had no need for food and no desire to get up to do much of anything. i was more than content to just stay there and ignore the rainy day outside. when i did finally get moving, i rented the moto and found that my sense of direction held together to get me back to the café i was in yesterday. coffee, baguette and a bit of lamb, and i was on my way back to the hotel for a massage. i had talked to two of the masseuse last night, one was working in the morning, the other at night. the first promised a harder massage, the second was less strong but said i might like her traditional massage also.
the first 90 minute massage was so nice, that i scheduled the second massage as 2 hours. i never have massage this much, or for so long. the second massage was not something i would have missed. the traditional massage was nice, very gentle and slow. while the moments were slowly slipping by, pushed forward by the sublime oiled hands on my skin, it began to rain. the light drops of the day were replaced by a down pour with lightening and crashing waves heard from the beach. the dark massage room, over looking the beach side pool, was a secluded location to watch drops splash into the water with explosive plops. the sounds were a mix of the storm, waves and music from pool side bar playing reggae and light rock for a few patrons staying out of the warm rain.
the massage ended with a ginger tea and a look at the calendar for the rest of my stay. i will not go every day, but at 300,000 rupiah (USD 32) for a two hour massage how can i not consider another visit. the fact that the masseuse is a beautiful woman who happens to have hands of sensuality is a bonus that i will not pass up.
bali is a place to relax. the surf shops, bungee jumping, white water rafting, shopping, scuba diving and all the other pleasures of a beach resort will simply need to wait. tomorrow looks to be another slow day. i bought a road map on one of my moto trips today, now i can find anything and go anywhere. i just need to decide what it is that i want to do. simply being in this wonderful town, meeting people, enjoying kari ayam or babi guling if i want to, having a drink and listening to the waves may be the only plans that i have for tomorrow.
no stress, i am relaxing in bali.
landing in denpasar was an experience; water on both sides of the runway and landing over surfers riding waves was something you just don't see in KLIA. immigration was also and experience… well lets say its what i have expected to see in other parts of asia, and have been surprised when it was not. an hour long wait in a line of travel weary, and somewhat smelly, europeans. somehow the moods stayed upbeat, even while the single threaded queue stalled waiting for the pleasant drones to process and stamp the USD 10 “visa on arrival” that every passenger seemed to need. the process took three booths, one to pay, one to give visa, one to stamp visa. my ipod with “bowling for soup” and “r. l. burnside” got me though it.
the roads in bali are a mix of vietnam and india. motos create their own lanes on the littered highway; weaving between cars slowly passing rice paddies, with workers trying to squeeze out a crop. the interesting thing is that the roads also feel like the us. the shops on the side, the signs, the brands, the simple vibe of the people feels more like a summer resort in the us than anything i have ever felt in asia. renting a moto was the best choice i have made here. for the price of a round trip taxi from my hotel to kuta (34,000 rupiah or USD 3.60) i have complete freedom to get lost on my own.
my first full day here was spent mostly relaxing. i am on my 6th or so day of no hunger. i woke up this morning and stayed in bed, i had no need for food and no desire to get up to do much of anything. i was more than content to just stay there and ignore the rainy day outside. when i did finally get moving, i rented the moto and found that my sense of direction held together to get me back to the café i was in yesterday. coffee, baguette and a bit of lamb, and i was on my way back to the hotel for a massage. i had talked to two of the masseuse last night, one was working in the morning, the other at night. the first promised a harder massage, the second was less strong but said i might like her traditional massage also.
the first 90 minute massage was so nice, that i scheduled the second massage as 2 hours. i never have massage this much, or for so long. the second massage was not something i would have missed. the traditional massage was nice, very gentle and slow. while the moments were slowly slipping by, pushed forward by the sublime oiled hands on my skin, it began to rain. the light drops of the day were replaced by a down pour with lightening and crashing waves heard from the beach. the dark massage room, over looking the beach side pool, was a secluded location to watch drops splash into the water with explosive plops. the sounds were a mix of the storm, waves and music from pool side bar playing reggae and light rock for a few patrons staying out of the warm rain.
the massage ended with a ginger tea and a look at the calendar for the rest of my stay. i will not go every day, but at 300,000 rupiah (USD 32) for a two hour massage how can i not consider another visit. the fact that the masseuse is a beautiful woman who happens to have hands of sensuality is a bonus that i will not pass up.
bali is a place to relax. the surf shops, bungee jumping, white water rafting, shopping, scuba diving and all the other pleasures of a beach resort will simply need to wait. tomorrow looks to be another slow day. i bought a road map on one of my moto trips today, now i can find anything and go anywhere. i just need to decide what it is that i want to do. simply being in this wonderful town, meeting people, enjoying kari ayam or babi guling if i want to, having a drink and listening to the waves may be the only plans that i have for tomorrow.
no stress, i am relaxing in bali.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
customer service rethought
my last post was about a bit negative. okay, so you sit in KLIA for hours and listen to the bell sounds with your number never seeming to get closer and see how you feel. tell me in the same situation you would not do the same. but, as time has passed i have realized there is also some very good customer service in the country. you just need to look closer and appreciate the things
the first thing i noticed was the level of service you can get at a mamak stand. we all have our favorite mamak place and i am no different. the guys at who work there know me, they remember what i like and they bring it to me almost without asking. but even if i were not a regular customer, i fully believe the staff would still go above and beyond for me and do the things that are really needed in mamak.
the last two times i have had mamak, the staff has stepped in and helped me in ways i would not expect for a cheap restaurant where tipping is not required. the first time a waiter i did not know swept by the table, knocked a thumb sized cockroach off the table and stomped on it almost without breaking stride. the next time a staff member saw the rat scampering between tables and chased it away before most of the other clients had noticed. i am just lucky that i see so much of what goes on that i can appreciate the extra service.
the next great round of customer service i had was at “the curve”. i had been shopping for paint ball clothes, stop laughing really, and i had somehow lost my parking ticket. when i realized this at the auto pay, i read the sign that warned lost tickets would require a payment of RM 50 (come on USD 17, no way). so i drove up to the booth and waved the loitering staff member over and told him my predicament. after a few moments of discussion, i was paying the bloke inside the booth a RM 10 note and he was sending me on the way. this is a fee five times the weekend cost of parking. i find this to be a pretty reasonable premium to pay for the mistake of losing the ticket. and to find a staff who was able to help me adjust this was a major plus for me. i plan to do all my parking at the curve, but i will try harder to not lose my ticket.
the last customer service i have recently enjoyed was last sunday morning. i was on my way to a well earned pancake and coffee. i was sending an SMS as i drove and did not see the signs of my favorite speed trap quickly approaching. i was told i was going 92 km/j in an 80 km/j zone. this was a RM 300 fine which i could pay once the ticket was written. the kind police man, in his nice blue and white suit was very interested in my nationality, my length of time in the country and my job. these are not normally questions i answer in the west, but he seemed like i nice guy so i went with it. the next thing i knew, we had a new approach to the situation. the nice police man allowed me to expedite the payment of the fine, no ticket to lose of forget and only a third of the price he originally told me. i was off and enjoying my pancake faster than i could say “terima kasih”.
so as these three events show, there is wonderful customer service here in
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
customer service
i am sitting in the world’s best airport (voted two years in a row, 2005 and 2006 for airports with 15 – 25 million passengers a year). i am trapped here on a friday night because the airline i choose for a semi-planned christmas get away was unable to process my credit card without me showing up and waiting in a 5 hour queue. don’t think i didn’t try, i used the website, i called customer service, still i am sitting and listening to the most annoying bell sound with each ticket that is called. i feel like pavlov’s dog, each bell makes my head hurt.
i have a chair in the corner, i have a table, i have read four lessons in my “learn malay” book, and i realized “berapa lama” is meet with nothing more than a blank stare and that language books need really useful phrases like, “your customer service bites my royal irish ass hard”. i am sitting here and imagining my father in this situation. the man took weeks to get ready to go to the department of motor vehicles to ensure he was ready for the stress and pressure of the wait. i think he would kill someone here.
i was trying to place an ad in the major newspaper in the country last week. the ad was to support the hiring of staff into our company. i have questions from the media group in the us, ones that i needed answers on. the sales people in the paper simply ignored my questions, and never got back to me. this means they are losing a sale of tens of thousands of dollars, not ringgits, when i say dollars it’s the real thing, green backs baby, USD. the countries major newspaper can not take the time to tell a multinational company the best file format to send graphics to it, so the money never comes into the country.
i am sitting in front of 12 customer service counters. six of the counters are un-staffed and the other six appear to be homes to employees who are given valium before each shift. slow and steady movements are the course of action. the 80 or so other customers waiting around me seem to simply accept this as the way it is and always will be. this might be the worlds best airport, but this airline has some horrible customer service. the last time i bought a ticket and had to come to “collect” the paper ticket i asked when they would have e-tickets. i was by the service associate she hoped they would never have them, she was worried she might lose her job. at that moment, i really wished i did not need to make this 2 hour trip.
i have a new theory. malaysians who emigrate and then never come back actually want to, they simply can’t come to KLIA from
the upside to this is that i have had plenty of time to sit, study bahasa malayu saya, read, write, talk to friends on the phone and talk to the people around me. i just met a nice student who will one day build bridges and her mother who has promised to give me the number of her friend that can help me avoid spending my friday nights in a deli ticket airline queue from hell.
i guess this shows the real way locals deal with the horrible service they get in the country. they lepak with friends, they discuss and share the networking steps to avoid the issues and they survive by avoiding.
stress and release
here i am at 4 AM, writing for my blog while i watch a build [releasing software to the web], that i have been working on since 8 AM this morning, struggle to come to completion. today was a day of stress, a series of emails, phone calls, IM conversations and SMS exchanges which pushed the limits of stress; even for me. over the years i have gotten good at continuing to function under pressure that pushes others over their limit, its part of the job description. but i have noticed that i can only do this based on coping strategies and certain of my strategies have come into clarity for me recently.
first, when under stress i get very short with my communication skills. i am direct and to the point. when rushed i respond by going quickly. this is can be taken as arrogance or bullying, this is really not the way i want to be perceived. i feel bad about it when it happens. well no, when it happens i am fine because i am trying to get something done, its later that i am upset i could have upset others.
second, i react to stress with food cravings. the stress diet is not one of fruits and veggies, but sugar and caffeine. when under pressure i feel an urge, one that is hard to resist. i explained it today like a soft whisper that simply repeats in my head, over and over, “pop-tarts, pop-tarts, pop-tarts”. normally i am weak; sooner or later i cave in and reach for my little sugary friends and then for another. today i didn’t, i held firm and never took the sugar or caffeine fix that i deeply wanted.
next, i make random connections in my head and then ask others if they make any sense to them. i argued today that public safety announcements for seatbelts and helmets were counter to the public good. convincing people who cant figure out that safety devices are the smart thing for them and for their families is just stopping darwinism from succeeding via the inherent intelligence test. i am actually all for safety devices, but at the time, it seemed like an interesting argument and i needed the distraction, so i went with it. when i am under stress, when the pressure is mounting, expect me to just say random things and don’t convince yourself that i mean what i am asking. just that it was a thought that bounced into my head, and rather than think about the problem at hand, i thought it was interesting to think about this idea for a moment.
the last coping technique is that i tend to sing, dance, tap my fingers, and raise my voice just for the pure and utter fun of it. the asian kids in the office have gotten used to this i think. i am pretty sure they use this to read my mood. some people get gloomy, i tend to get jittery… hmmm, maybe that is related to the sugar and caffeine i had already ingested, and the fact that my mind is spinning with work and random thoughts which i am riffing at fast pace, but then again maybe its just another sign of pressure for me.
other than my response to the stress itself, i have noticed that post stress euphoria hits me pretty hard. when the pressure lifts because we have finally succeeded, i tend to go from intensely direct to wildly indirect and funny. i go into my full “stand up” mode where any need to limit the riffing associated with the random thoughts bouncing in my head is lost. i had a group of people laughing at this behavior today. they might be used to me in stressed mode, but in post stress i am just more than they expect from a boss.
i had my own boss a few years ago, who would start the week by saying, this is the week that you’re going to snap. i continued to say, “not now, not ever”. in the end i think he decided to send me half way around the world to see if that would do it. it hasn’t and in some ways it has made stress easier to deal with. i am sitting up watching colleagues finish things that have consumed the last 20 hours of my life, but they expect me to be asleep. its only when they realize that i am half way around the world and still up at 4 AM that someone might ask me to go to sleep and start working again in a few hours.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
unexplained love
i have a friend who has a sister married to a guy known as “the pig”, he is vile, but she still loves him. i know another couple where the wife is beautiful and the husband is a sweet guy, but he is clearly much less of a catch than she is. we all know these relationships, one of the people we like, the other we despise, loath or simply feel sorry for. there is a lack of balance, but for some reason the person we like is in love with this other person. we don’t see it and have no idea why they love the person but they do.
as we go through life there are situations where we just can not understand people’s decisions. the talented kid who takes drugs and destroys their future by getting arrested or by allowing the drugs to take their life over or the adult that makes a stupid choice and allows their career, family or future slip away. we can not understand how this occurs, but we have seen it enough times to know that it does.
the hardest is to watch someone love a person who others see is clearly broken, but to understand that they either can not see it, or that they simply choose to ignore how broken and dangerous the person is for them. this may be one more form of self-destructive behavior, or it may be a sense of clarity that those around them can not appreciate. at times it feels like a car accident in slow motion. the viewer simply stands on the side watching the metal preparing to be twisted and flesh to be torn, but is completely powerless to stop it.
the real taboo subject in life is not politics, sex or religion; it is a friend’s dysfunctional relationship. you go to dinner with them, you talk to them, you listen to their spin on life and you want to shake them and tell them they are clueless with their life. you want to do an intervention and stop them from continuing to make the mistake that everyone around them knows they are making, but you don’t. you can’t, it’s not right for you to have an opinion, and if you do it’s relationship suicide to share it with them. no one likes to accept that they are wrong, and in this case maybe they are not.
we can not see or understand the love someone feels for another. we don’t know why they continue to love a person long after they have proven they do not deserve the love. we can not see the situation, or the other person, with their eyes and heart. we simply need to accept that the world is not ours to control. the relationship has to be allowed to move on its own, the players need to make their own decisions.
people can not look inside our hearts; we may not really be able to look inside our own. we love the people we love, we trust the people we trust. we do not completely understand or control these things. why that person makes us feel this way, and another person, one who may deserve the love more, who may be a better fit for us, who may be in the one who would make us happy for ever, does not get that love is a mystery. we do not completely control it, and we could not explain it.
if life were simple we would not have unexplained love, life would be clear and obvious, but it is not, it is weird and complex. life is not simple, love is less simple. we love the people we love. we need to accept and understand that. the people around us need to do the same, and we need to it for them as well.
as we go through life there are situations where we just can not understand people’s decisions. the talented kid who takes drugs and destroys their future by getting arrested or by allowing the drugs to take their life over or the adult that makes a stupid choice and allows their career, family or future slip away. we can not understand how this occurs, but we have seen it enough times to know that it does.
the hardest is to watch someone love a person who others see is clearly broken, but to understand that they either can not see it, or that they simply choose to ignore how broken and dangerous the person is for them. this may be one more form of self-destructive behavior, or it may be a sense of clarity that those around them can not appreciate. at times it feels like a car accident in slow motion. the viewer simply stands on the side watching the metal preparing to be twisted and flesh to be torn, but is completely powerless to stop it.
the real taboo subject in life is not politics, sex or religion; it is a friend’s dysfunctional relationship. you go to dinner with them, you talk to them, you listen to their spin on life and you want to shake them and tell them they are clueless with their life. you want to do an intervention and stop them from continuing to make the mistake that everyone around them knows they are making, but you don’t. you can’t, it’s not right for you to have an opinion, and if you do it’s relationship suicide to share it with them. no one likes to accept that they are wrong, and in this case maybe they are not.
we can not see or understand the love someone feels for another. we don’t know why they continue to love a person long after they have proven they do not deserve the love. we can not see the situation, or the other person, with their eyes and heart. we simply need to accept that the world is not ours to control. the relationship has to be allowed to move on its own, the players need to make their own decisions.
people can not look inside our hearts; we may not really be able to look inside our own. we love the people we love, we trust the people we trust. we do not completely understand or control these things. why that person makes us feel this way, and another person, one who may deserve the love more, who may be a better fit for us, who may be in the one who would make us happy for ever, does not get that love is a mystery. we do not completely control it, and we could not explain it.
if life were simple we would not have unexplained love, life would be clear and obvious, but it is not, it is weird and complex. life is not simple, love is less simple. we love the people we love. we need to accept and understand that. the people around us need to do the same, and we need to it for them as well.
house-ism
while in the US i finally took the time to buy an antenna for my condo tv. this means, for the first time since cancelling the cable, i can watch tv in the us again. it was getting too uncomfortable to use the excuse of no cable to try to hang around the ex-wifes house, so i can now watch tv in the comfort of my own home. my son and my ex-wife’s significant other are both almost as happy with this as i am, although for different reasons.
while there i was able to watch an episode of house. i saw other shows too, but this is the one i really wait for, one of the shows i will most excitedly buy on dvd here in malaysia. there is a certain mix of humor and self-inflicted pain that i love about house. its not really just him though, most of the people on the show have a dark side which just seems to be less prominent when contrasted with the over the top behavior of dr. house.
if you know me, you know i quote house’s most famous house-ism on a regular basis, “everybody lies”. i have written on this in past, it is no less true today than 3 years ago when he first said it. it is the most clear example of his world view which most people both think is sad, and which they tend to agree with.
as i watched an episode of series 4, one which i will watch again in 3 months when the dvds finally come to asia, there was a new quote, which i have been mulling. “the goal of life is not to eliminate misery, but to bring misery to a minimum”. this is such an irish-catholic sentiment that i immediately smiled when i heard it.
somehow it is not a deeply compelling as “everybody lies”, but that may be that is simply not ground breaking enough. as we were brought up, most of us are told that there are good people and bad people. good people tell the truth and help others; bad people lie and hurt others. the fact that house has put this on its head and pointed out that everyone lies means that either even good people lie, or that everyone is bad.
clearly, we all have a spectrum of good and bad within us. few people are clearly evil, and the sense that everyone has bad within us is not new to many of us, well at least to the more liberal and hopeful of us. the conservatives among us have always seen the world as full of bad people who needed to be controlled, if they did not believe this they would trust people to make their own decisions and act as they felt was best. clearly this is a recipe for disaster in the mind of conservatives. maybe this is a digression, but given the quote, maybe not.
you can not eliminate misery, just limit it. as we look at the world, as we teach our children, do we tell them this? do we tell them that life is as hobbs said, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short”, or do we attempt to tell them that life is full of hope and fairness. i guess it depends on the family and the dynamic, but as a rule i think most people choose to give their children hope and comfort and allow life to teach them any lessons counter to this philosophy.
the christian tradition since saint augustine is based on a life long struggle with sin, a life begun with original sin which comes to us through no act of our own and is outside of our control. the idea that children if they were to die outside of baptism would go to hell, is just one more example of how classical thought has carried its ideas into our times at the expense of good people and their good works. no child born into the world and then taken from its parents would go to hell if a good god were involved in the process. augustine is either wrong and the catholic church is teaching bad doctrine, or god is not good.
house is also reflecting a quote from buddha which said, “life is misery”. in the buddhist tradition, you overcome misery through meditation. you need to know and understand life and its pain to find enlightenment. only by accepting that life is both good and bad do you find the understanding that life can be happy and productive even with the existence of pain.
house is expressing a world view which one can understand and sympathize with, but it is also one which we work very hard to protect our children from. we put them in sports to allow them to believe that the world is based on “rules of the game” and that playing by the rules is the only course which is valid if you want to continue to play. “everybody lies” and “life is misery” are both quotes which show house through his pain and suffering, but which also somehow give me hope.
life is filled with pain, and it is also filled with joy. the trick is to enjoy the moments of joy and move though the moments of misery as quickly as possible. if we focus on one of these and ignore the other we eliminate our ability to learn from that which we are ignoring. even the people who only focus on the good are at risk, they may not be as dour as those that focus on the negative, but they will never learn from the pain. misery brings learning, unless we embrace it we will never learn. “those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it” is a true-ism which we can imagine house using.
as i said, i smiled when i heard this house-ism. i do not find house to be angry, sad or jaded. i find him to be intelligent, aware and full of hubris developed through years of success. i also do not find him to be self destructive. house learns from his mistakes and attempts to teach those around him. this is a hopeful exercise of life, one that we should not forget.
while there i was able to watch an episode of house. i saw other shows too, but this is the one i really wait for, one of the shows i will most excitedly buy on dvd here in malaysia. there is a certain mix of humor and self-inflicted pain that i love about house. its not really just him though, most of the people on the show have a dark side which just seems to be less prominent when contrasted with the over the top behavior of dr. house.
if you know me, you know i quote house’s most famous house-ism on a regular basis, “everybody lies”. i have written on this in past, it is no less true today than 3 years ago when he first said it. it is the most clear example of his world view which most people both think is sad, and which they tend to agree with.
as i watched an episode of series 4, one which i will watch again in 3 months when the dvds finally come to asia, there was a new quote, which i have been mulling. “the goal of life is not to eliminate misery, but to bring misery to a minimum”. this is such an irish-catholic sentiment that i immediately smiled when i heard it.
somehow it is not a deeply compelling as “everybody lies”, but that may be that is simply not ground breaking enough. as we were brought up, most of us are told that there are good people and bad people. good people tell the truth and help others; bad people lie and hurt others. the fact that house has put this on its head and pointed out that everyone lies means that either even good people lie, or that everyone is bad.
clearly, we all have a spectrum of good and bad within us. few people are clearly evil, and the sense that everyone has bad within us is not new to many of us, well at least to the more liberal and hopeful of us. the conservatives among us have always seen the world as full of bad people who needed to be controlled, if they did not believe this they would trust people to make their own decisions and act as they felt was best. clearly this is a recipe for disaster in the mind of conservatives. maybe this is a digression, but given the quote, maybe not.
you can not eliminate misery, just limit it. as we look at the world, as we teach our children, do we tell them this? do we tell them that life is as hobbs said, “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short”, or do we attempt to tell them that life is full of hope and fairness. i guess it depends on the family and the dynamic, but as a rule i think most people choose to give their children hope and comfort and allow life to teach them any lessons counter to this philosophy.
the christian tradition since saint augustine is based on a life long struggle with sin, a life begun with original sin which comes to us through no act of our own and is outside of our control. the idea that children if they were to die outside of baptism would go to hell, is just one more example of how classical thought has carried its ideas into our times at the expense of good people and their good works. no child born into the world and then taken from its parents would go to hell if a good god were involved in the process. augustine is either wrong and the catholic church is teaching bad doctrine, or god is not good.
house is also reflecting a quote from buddha which said, “life is misery”. in the buddhist tradition, you overcome misery through meditation. you need to know and understand life and its pain to find enlightenment. only by accepting that life is both good and bad do you find the understanding that life can be happy and productive even with the existence of pain.
house is expressing a world view which one can understand and sympathize with, but it is also one which we work very hard to protect our children from. we put them in sports to allow them to believe that the world is based on “rules of the game” and that playing by the rules is the only course which is valid if you want to continue to play. “everybody lies” and “life is misery” are both quotes which show house through his pain and suffering, but which also somehow give me hope.
life is filled with pain, and it is also filled with joy. the trick is to enjoy the moments of joy and move though the moments of misery as quickly as possible. if we focus on one of these and ignore the other we eliminate our ability to learn from that which we are ignoring. even the people who only focus on the good are at risk, they may not be as dour as those that focus on the negative, but they will never learn from the pain. misery brings learning, unless we embrace it we will never learn. “those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it” is a true-ism which we can imagine house using.
as i said, i smiled when i heard this house-ism. i do not find house to be angry, sad or jaded. i find him to be intelligent, aware and full of hubris developed through years of success. i also do not find him to be self destructive. house learns from his mistakes and attempts to teach those around him. this is a hopeful exercise of life, one that we should not forget.
swim lanes
i was on my way to my daughters swim meet the other day. it was early morning and i was out of the house early, as i drove i checked email and found the meet was an hour later than i thought, so i decided to go to starbucks and have a coffee to kill time. i found a comfy chair and sat down with a book (internet is not free in starbucks in the us, one more reason i like to be in asia). a woman walked up and asked to sit in the chair next to me, we started to talk and when i told her i was on my way to a swim meet she smiled and told me she i was swim coach.
there is something about swimmers, once you are one you can sense others as you move though life. most of the girls i dated in high school and college also swam. swimming is a passion, it’s not a surprise that i passed this onto my kids, the oldest two are swimmers and lifeguards, the youngest wants to be a coast guard rescue swimmer. as we sat and talked about life, travel and other random things it was swimming that was the core connection that we seemed to have. does it seem funny to you that a sport where you are unable to talk to anyone one else while you are doing it helps people to find the ability to talk easily when out of the water?
i got to the meet and sat next to a woman i love. we spent the next 4 hours sitting, talking and watching kids swim in the first meet of the year. we watched our daughter stress out until the heat she was swimming butterfly was over, and then we watched her relax and simply swim for the fun of it.
as the time passed, as i watched kids swim up and down the pool, i realized swimming really is a good sport for kids. we place them into a environment which they learn to glide effortlessly though, one that terrifies others who have not learned the techniques they have to control their bodies, their breathing and their level of effort to allow them finish the race and come up with a smile. swimming more than any other sport is one of technique, it’s what separates those who can swim and those that don’t.
but there is more to swimming, during practice and warm ups, swimmers share a lane, they pace themselves to move in unison, to not bump into the swimmer in front of them and to stop from having the girl doing a flip turn from smashing into them at full speed as they prepare to do their down flip turn and avoid the guy behind them. they also learn to find the right lane, to swim with those who move at about the same pace and to move themselves up or down a lane as the other swimmers become to fast or slow for them.
swim lanes are subject of pride. our daughter was just telling me that she was embarrassed that on the new team she was still in lane 4, she felt she should be in lane 5, with the faster kids, but that on her new team she was not good enough for that. as we talked, i could tell she both accepted the situation and was ready to change it. there is no avoiding the fact that you are getting lapped, and that people are literally tapping you on the foot to tell you that you need to move faster or allow them to pass you. it’s not something you can hide from yourself or anyone else and you only have yourself to motivate to improve.
swim lanes during a meet are singular. each lane only has one swimmer in it at a time. as each swimmer touches the wall a new swimmer may go in relay, only one is swimming at any given moment. this singularity is balanced by the team work of the relay, four people working to finish one distance. the hardest part of this for new swimmers is to wait for the tone telling them to go, or the swimmer in front of them to touch. if anyone goes too quickly, they are dqed (disqualified) and the entire team loses.
swim lanes also allow the fastest swimmer to finish their times, and to allow the other swimmers to finish their own. one of the best elements of swimming is that no one leaves the pool until all the swimmers have finished. the slowest swimmer is congratulated by the swimmers around them for finishing the race, they are never left in the pool alone. that would be a major breach of swimmer etiquette. everyone is cheered, even when they are the slowest person in the pool.
we watched our daughter and her team compete that day. i realized we are now swimming in different lanes. we are no longer a relay team, trying to finish the same race together, but have moved to swim solo, or on other teams. our lanes separate us and keep us safe from bumping into each other. the waves are suppressed by the lanes and the distance between them. these are all positive things; they allow us to be safe and to stop people from bumping into each other. but it also comes at a price, you get used to swimming with people over time, you get used to the rhythms and movements, you miss it when you are swimming alone.
swimming does help you as you go through life. you know you are cold, but that a shower is waiting for you when you get out of the pool. you know you are thirsty, and the water around you is not the solution to that thirst. you know you are in pain, but that recovery will be fast because you are practiced dealing with this pain. you know the workout is long, but that you can finish it.
you also know that sometimes you are alone in the pool, but that means the water is clean and placid. it’s a way to not have to tap the foot in front of you, or to feel the tap on your foot. you get used to having your own lane and to building your own work outs. you get used to needing to breathe on both sides and to learning to flip turn so you don’t lose too much time as you change direction.
swimming in your own lane is great, but swimming with others really is the best part. even when its crowded, you can just watch the bubbles in front of you and know that the end of the lap is coming when the water stops churning in front of you.
there is something about swimmers, once you are one you can sense others as you move though life. most of the girls i dated in high school and college also swam. swimming is a passion, it’s not a surprise that i passed this onto my kids, the oldest two are swimmers and lifeguards, the youngest wants to be a coast guard rescue swimmer. as we sat and talked about life, travel and other random things it was swimming that was the core connection that we seemed to have. does it seem funny to you that a sport where you are unable to talk to anyone one else while you are doing it helps people to find the ability to talk easily when out of the water?
i got to the meet and sat next to a woman i love. we spent the next 4 hours sitting, talking and watching kids swim in the first meet of the year. we watched our daughter stress out until the heat she was swimming butterfly was over, and then we watched her relax and simply swim for the fun of it.
as the time passed, as i watched kids swim up and down the pool, i realized swimming really is a good sport for kids. we place them into a environment which they learn to glide effortlessly though, one that terrifies others who have not learned the techniques they have to control their bodies, their breathing and their level of effort to allow them finish the race and come up with a smile. swimming more than any other sport is one of technique, it’s what separates those who can swim and those that don’t.
but there is more to swimming, during practice and warm ups, swimmers share a lane, they pace themselves to move in unison, to not bump into the swimmer in front of them and to stop from having the girl doing a flip turn from smashing into them at full speed as they prepare to do their down flip turn and avoid the guy behind them. they also learn to find the right lane, to swim with those who move at about the same pace and to move themselves up or down a lane as the other swimmers become to fast or slow for them.
swim lanes are subject of pride. our daughter was just telling me that she was embarrassed that on the new team she was still in lane 4, she felt she should be in lane 5, with the faster kids, but that on her new team she was not good enough for that. as we talked, i could tell she both accepted the situation and was ready to change it. there is no avoiding the fact that you are getting lapped, and that people are literally tapping you on the foot to tell you that you need to move faster or allow them to pass you. it’s not something you can hide from yourself or anyone else and you only have yourself to motivate to improve.
swim lanes during a meet are singular. each lane only has one swimmer in it at a time. as each swimmer touches the wall a new swimmer may go in relay, only one is swimming at any given moment. this singularity is balanced by the team work of the relay, four people working to finish one distance. the hardest part of this for new swimmers is to wait for the tone telling them to go, or the swimmer in front of them to touch. if anyone goes too quickly, they are dqed (disqualified) and the entire team loses.
swim lanes also allow the fastest swimmer to finish their times, and to allow the other swimmers to finish their own. one of the best elements of swimming is that no one leaves the pool until all the swimmers have finished. the slowest swimmer is congratulated by the swimmers around them for finishing the race, they are never left in the pool alone. that would be a major breach of swimmer etiquette. everyone is cheered, even when they are the slowest person in the pool.
we watched our daughter and her team compete that day. i realized we are now swimming in different lanes. we are no longer a relay team, trying to finish the same race together, but have moved to swim solo, or on other teams. our lanes separate us and keep us safe from bumping into each other. the waves are suppressed by the lanes and the distance between them. these are all positive things; they allow us to be safe and to stop people from bumping into each other. but it also comes at a price, you get used to swimming with people over time, you get used to the rhythms and movements, you miss it when you are swimming alone.
swimming does help you as you go through life. you know you are cold, but that a shower is waiting for you when you get out of the pool. you know you are thirsty, and the water around you is not the solution to that thirst. you know you are in pain, but that recovery will be fast because you are practiced dealing with this pain. you know the workout is long, but that you can finish it.
you also know that sometimes you are alone in the pool, but that means the water is clean and placid. it’s a way to not have to tap the foot in front of you, or to feel the tap on your foot. you get used to having your own lane and to building your own work outs. you get used to needing to breathe on both sides and to learning to flip turn so you don’t lose too much time as you change direction.
swimming in your own lane is great, but swimming with others really is the best part. even when its crowded, you can just watch the bubbles in front of you and know that the end of the lap is coming when the water stops churning in front of you.
man of god
i describe the US to people all the time and take pains to say how open and enlightened it is. it doesn’t seem like the US of my youth, where it was considered wrong to have friends from another religion. my grandmother told me of her youth when it was forbidden to go to a protestant friends house, thankfully those times were gone.
i was in the US and was taking my son to ccd, this is what i have termed “catholic school”. living in a secular country with separation of church as state the children are only exposed to their religious heritage if you get up early on saturday morning and take them to the small school building attached to the parish. when we discussed sending him to this, i had a minor reservation remembering back to the time our daughter came home from catholic school in tears.
our daughter was upset because of the message of that morning’s teaching. they had been told that rich people were going to hell, because they became rich by focusing more on themselves and work, rather than giving themselves completely to god and living a life focused on enriching their souls rather than their pocket book. she was in tears because she felt singled out, among her friends she was clearly one of those with the most, with a big house, vacations and parents who ran a company and worked for the things they had.
our daughter was sent home feeling as though her parents were bad people who would be punished for their sins. i held her shaking in my arms while i calmed her down and explained that this message was not one that our church should be sending. i told her about our acts of charity that were only possible because of our work. i also told her that our work was focused to give her a rounded education which would let her see the world openly and fairly, give her the tools to help the world and make friends no matter where life took her.
as i drove our son to “catholic school” i asked him if he liked going. he said he did. i reminded him that although we were teaching him to see himself as a catholic, he had to remember that this did not mean that catholics were right and people with other religious beliefs were wrong. this sense of correctness and exclusion are the issues which i feel keep the world from finding peace, and i did not want him to slip into this in any way. i reminded him that we had friends who were christian, jewish, muslim, hindu, buddhist, agnostic and atheist. he simply looked at me and said, “i know dad”.
happy believing that he did know, that he understood how important it is to respect others and allow himself to see them as people and friends first, and not see anyone as a caricature built by the media or society, we got out of the car and walked to the school building that for the next 90 minutes he would be taught to be a good catholic. as we walked in the rain to the door, i noticed the parish priest, father stephen. stephen is a nice man, is good with children and is the priest whose close minded sermon from the pulpit drove me to stop attending mass. he asserted that the church had no homosexual priests, had never allowed a pedophile to stay within the priesthood and was being targeted by the media in an unfair attempt to hurt the church. i found it objectionable that he would use his position to say such things, which were known by almost all catholics to be completely false. i discussed this with my wife and we agreed that i should not go back until this blew over, because if he did it again i was going to stand up and tell him how wrong he was.
as we walked in he said, “hello father”, he had never learned my name, and called most parents mother or father. he asked me if i had an umbrella, i told him that i did but that it was in malaysia. i would think he might have noticed that i had been absent for years and that another male parishioner (one whose name he did know) was now sitting next to my wife at mass. he asked why i was in malaysia, i told him i lived there. he looked shocked and asked how it was. i used my practiced answer, i like it the weather, food and people are wonderful. it’s a nice life and a good change of pace from the US.
the next words out of his mouth stopped me in my tracks. “you must be careful. the muslims are a vicious people.” i took a beat, looked at him, and said, “father, that is not true, i have very good friends who are muslim, their faith is one of peace and they are wonderful people who i love to be near.” he replied with, “no, their book tells them to use violence.” i was simply shocked. i had almost no idea what to say. i explained that was not true. the wahhabist teachings do teach jihad as a seemingly sixth pillar of islam, but that i view as an alteration of the pure teachings. he said, he was not sure, clearly not educated on this subject at all, he reminded me that “other priests have told me so.” at that moment the bell rang and i thankfully moved away from him to send my son to be educated in our religion based on love.
as my day went on, and as days have passed, i continue to think about this exchange. these are the first openly hostile comments anyone has made to me about the muslim world in the two years i have lived here. it is also a shock to me that a “man of god”, the man we entrust both our children’s religious education and our souls to, could be so ignorant and closed minded. years before coming to malaysia, i had spent a week long vacation reading on the history of judism, christianity and islam in an effort to understand the world better. clearly my priest had never taken the time to do the same.
our son is still going to “catholic school” each week. i am not going to pull him away from his education and his heritage as i allowed myself to be driven away. but i am also going to continue to remind him that we have close friends around the world who come from many religious traditions. i think the core element of these friends is ability to accept us for who we are, and to understand that we are not our church. i am very glad that i am not my church. as far as i can tell my church is one of closed minded ignorance that is more focused on self protection and narrow-minded self congratulation than on deepening its understanding of the world.
we will continue to educate our children to be citizens of the world. we will continue to travel and to enjoy getting to know people from all around the world. we will help them to be more open minded and loving than anyone around them that is focused on separating the world by color, religion, sexual preference or any other belief that some people my use as a wedge to separate one group from another. i just hope in the next generation hard work and loving people who are different than ourselves will be ideas embraced not only by our children, but buy their church and the society they live within. whatever that church and society are.
i was in the US and was taking my son to ccd, this is what i have termed “catholic school”. living in a secular country with separation of church as state the children are only exposed to their religious heritage if you get up early on saturday morning and take them to the small school building attached to the parish. when we discussed sending him to this, i had a minor reservation remembering back to the time our daughter came home from catholic school in tears.
our daughter was upset because of the message of that morning’s teaching. they had been told that rich people were going to hell, because they became rich by focusing more on themselves and work, rather than giving themselves completely to god and living a life focused on enriching their souls rather than their pocket book. she was in tears because she felt singled out, among her friends she was clearly one of those with the most, with a big house, vacations and parents who ran a company and worked for the things they had.
our daughter was sent home feeling as though her parents were bad people who would be punished for their sins. i held her shaking in my arms while i calmed her down and explained that this message was not one that our church should be sending. i told her about our acts of charity that were only possible because of our work. i also told her that our work was focused to give her a rounded education which would let her see the world openly and fairly, give her the tools to help the world and make friends no matter where life took her.
as i drove our son to “catholic school” i asked him if he liked going. he said he did. i reminded him that although we were teaching him to see himself as a catholic, he had to remember that this did not mean that catholics were right and people with other religious beliefs were wrong. this sense of correctness and exclusion are the issues which i feel keep the world from finding peace, and i did not want him to slip into this in any way. i reminded him that we had friends who were christian, jewish, muslim, hindu, buddhist, agnostic and atheist. he simply looked at me and said, “i know dad”.
happy believing that he did know, that he understood how important it is to respect others and allow himself to see them as people and friends first, and not see anyone as a caricature built by the media or society, we got out of the car and walked to the school building that for the next 90 minutes he would be taught to be a good catholic. as we walked in the rain to the door, i noticed the parish priest, father stephen. stephen is a nice man, is good with children and is the priest whose close minded sermon from the pulpit drove me to stop attending mass. he asserted that the church had no homosexual priests, had never allowed a pedophile to stay within the priesthood and was being targeted by the media in an unfair attempt to hurt the church. i found it objectionable that he would use his position to say such things, which were known by almost all catholics to be completely false. i discussed this with my wife and we agreed that i should not go back until this blew over, because if he did it again i was going to stand up and tell him how wrong he was.
as we walked in he said, “hello father”, he had never learned my name, and called most parents mother or father. he asked me if i had an umbrella, i told him that i did but that it was in malaysia. i would think he might have noticed that i had been absent for years and that another male parishioner (one whose name he did know) was now sitting next to my wife at mass. he asked why i was in malaysia, i told him i lived there. he looked shocked and asked how it was. i used my practiced answer, i like it the weather, food and people are wonderful. it’s a nice life and a good change of pace from the US.
the next words out of his mouth stopped me in my tracks. “you must be careful. the muslims are a vicious people.” i took a beat, looked at him, and said, “father, that is not true, i have very good friends who are muslim, their faith is one of peace and they are wonderful people who i love to be near.” he replied with, “no, their book tells them to use violence.” i was simply shocked. i had almost no idea what to say. i explained that was not true. the wahhabist teachings do teach jihad as a seemingly sixth pillar of islam, but that i view as an alteration of the pure teachings. he said, he was not sure, clearly not educated on this subject at all, he reminded me that “other priests have told me so.” at that moment the bell rang and i thankfully moved away from him to send my son to be educated in our religion based on love.
as my day went on, and as days have passed, i continue to think about this exchange. these are the first openly hostile comments anyone has made to me about the muslim world in the two years i have lived here. it is also a shock to me that a “man of god”, the man we entrust both our children’s religious education and our souls to, could be so ignorant and closed minded. years before coming to malaysia, i had spent a week long vacation reading on the history of judism, christianity and islam in an effort to understand the world better. clearly my priest had never taken the time to do the same.
our son is still going to “catholic school” each week. i am not going to pull him away from his education and his heritage as i allowed myself to be driven away. but i am also going to continue to remind him that we have close friends around the world who come from many religious traditions. i think the core element of these friends is ability to accept us for who we are, and to understand that we are not our church. i am very glad that i am not my church. as far as i can tell my church is one of closed minded ignorance that is more focused on self protection and narrow-minded self congratulation than on deepening its understanding of the world.
we will continue to educate our children to be citizens of the world. we will continue to travel and to enjoy getting to know people from all around the world. we will help them to be more open minded and loving than anyone around them that is focused on separating the world by color, religion, sexual preference or any other belief that some people my use as a wedge to separate one group from another. i just hope in the next generation hard work and loving people who are different than ourselves will be ideas embraced not only by our children, but buy their church and the society they live within. whatever that church and society are.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
giving up
i had a football coach that used to say, “if you can’t take the heat get out of the kitchen”. that is a bit of odd direction for someone whose job was to motivate young athletes to do the best they could, to dig down and perform at levels which they didn’t know they could reach. this coach was actually someone i loved, not because he was nice to me, or that he paid any special attention to me, but because i knew if i did not work hard he would find someone who would and i would be on the bench.
there was a game my senior year, the team we were playing was very good. we were on our home field, everyone in the school was watching, my parents were in the stands, and the team we were competing against was beating us. worse than that, the player(s) across from me were fast and strong. they were beating me, i was tired and was starting to think it was time to give up, maybe "get injured", pull a muscle and stop before i made a mistake that gave the other team an advantage.
this was directly against anything i had felt on the field before and it scared me. a year before this i had my hand stepped on and broke a finger during a game. at that moment i was afraid coach would realize I was injured and take me out. i set and taped my own finger and kept playing the game. there was nothing worse than being taken out of the game when you wanted to keep playing.
but here i was, thinking about quitting, just because i was tired and afraid. at that moment, i looked up and saw coach gibbons looking onto the field. he was not just looking, he was staring at me, he was looking directly at me and i could see he was considering taking me off the field. i knew, he knew I was unsure of myself and was not playing full pace. he wanted to pull me out, i was sure of it. the fear of that was worse than anything i could experience on the field. the thought of being asked to sit down, to have everyone i knew know that i wasn’t strong enough to finish the game was worse than losing, and worse than the pain i was feeling or could feel if i kept going.
at that moment, i decided there was no way i was going to give up. i was not going to let myself be taken off the field by anyone. i had worked hard to get here, i had been given the position that i loved and was not going to let anyone take it away from me. i took a deep breath, let it out slowly, stared at coach and knew i could finish the game. as I made this decision, i saw him smile and nod his head. he knew what i had just gone through, and he agreed i could do it.
as life passes, i have more chances to go through the same kind of experience. there are moments in life when i am tired, when i want to give up, when i just want to stop and walk off the field. i can take myself out of the game at any time. i can do it without many realizing or having any opinion about it. but i don’t, i keep plugging along. i make my blocks and hit the other guy as hard as i can. maybe the only ones that know this are me and the person on the other side of the line, but i don’t want either of us to know that i gave up.
we are shaped by our experiences, this is why its so important to have as many as you can. without these experiences we would never know what we are capable of doing. without this experience i could not know that even when I am in pain and afraid of more pain and defeat, that i can reach down and find it inside myself to keep going. who would I be without this?
there is a downside, as i get older and refuse to give up, i can no longer look up and see the clock, its too hard to tell how much time is left in the game. without this, it’s hard to know if i should go all out and try to force the win, or to save something for the end. i also can not look up and see gibbons staring at me from the side lines. there are times it would be very nice to have someone smile and nod their head to let me know they know i am still playing and agree i can make it.
i know there are times when giving up is the right thing to do. its when there is no chance to win, or when you realize the game is unfair and you never could have won no matter what you did. but today is not the day. i am going to keep playing, because being taken out of the game is still worse than losing; even if I break something, I know how to tape it up and keep going.
if you’re wondering, we did win that game that day, i made a block that directly helped us win. coach never mentioned that he knew i almost quit, that is one of the reasons i loved him.
there was a game my senior year, the team we were playing was very good. we were on our home field, everyone in the school was watching, my parents were in the stands, and the team we were competing against was beating us. worse than that, the player(s) across from me were fast and strong. they were beating me, i was tired and was starting to think it was time to give up, maybe "get injured", pull a muscle and stop before i made a mistake that gave the other team an advantage.
this was directly against anything i had felt on the field before and it scared me. a year before this i had my hand stepped on and broke a finger during a game. at that moment i was afraid coach would realize I was injured and take me out. i set and taped my own finger and kept playing the game. there was nothing worse than being taken out of the game when you wanted to keep playing.
but here i was, thinking about quitting, just because i was tired and afraid. at that moment, i looked up and saw coach gibbons looking onto the field. he was not just looking, he was staring at me, he was looking directly at me and i could see he was considering taking me off the field. i knew, he knew I was unsure of myself and was not playing full pace. he wanted to pull me out, i was sure of it. the fear of that was worse than anything i could experience on the field. the thought of being asked to sit down, to have everyone i knew know that i wasn’t strong enough to finish the game was worse than losing, and worse than the pain i was feeling or could feel if i kept going.
at that moment, i decided there was no way i was going to give up. i was not going to let myself be taken off the field by anyone. i had worked hard to get here, i had been given the position that i loved and was not going to let anyone take it away from me. i took a deep breath, let it out slowly, stared at coach and knew i could finish the game. as I made this decision, i saw him smile and nod his head. he knew what i had just gone through, and he agreed i could do it.
as life passes, i have more chances to go through the same kind of experience. there are moments in life when i am tired, when i want to give up, when i just want to stop and walk off the field. i can take myself out of the game at any time. i can do it without many realizing or having any opinion about it. but i don’t, i keep plugging along. i make my blocks and hit the other guy as hard as i can. maybe the only ones that know this are me and the person on the other side of the line, but i don’t want either of us to know that i gave up.
we are shaped by our experiences, this is why its so important to have as many as you can. without these experiences we would never know what we are capable of doing. without this experience i could not know that even when I am in pain and afraid of more pain and defeat, that i can reach down and find it inside myself to keep going. who would I be without this?
there is a downside, as i get older and refuse to give up, i can no longer look up and see the clock, its too hard to tell how much time is left in the game. without this, it’s hard to know if i should go all out and try to force the win, or to save something for the end. i also can not look up and see gibbons staring at me from the side lines. there are times it would be very nice to have someone smile and nod their head to let me know they know i am still playing and agree i can make it.
i know there are times when giving up is the right thing to do. its when there is no chance to win, or when you realize the game is unfair and you never could have won no matter what you did. but today is not the day. i am going to keep playing, because being taken out of the game is still worse than losing; even if I break something, I know how to tape it up and keep going.
if you’re wondering, we did win that game that day, i made a block that directly helped us win. coach never mentioned that he knew i almost quit, that is one of the reasons i loved him.
not sure
one thing about traveling is that you get to experience new cultures, and at times it challenges some of your cultural norms. this is the situation i have found myself in. it’s a strange situation for me. i feel as though i am being objectified, and i am not sure how to handle it. i also don’t have anyone to ask if this is normal, so i am not sure if what i am feeling is even valid.
when i checked into the hotel yesterday, one of the guys who works at the front desk was walking by me and patted my stomach. it was a gentle touch which i felt was meant to reassure me that they would find me a room and i should not worry. it was also a touch that sent a tingle down my spine and made me very uncomfortable in the, “did that guy just touch me like that?” way.
as i was shopping today, there was a sales guy who was trying to make a sale, and to project the friendly nature of our relationship reached out and squeezed my shoulder. he smiled at me and appeared to be saying its okay we are friends. i again was struck by the desire to gain some physical space and possibly do him some bodily harm. i surpressed these urges and just moved on in my day.
as i am sitting in a café, watching england beat on estonia, one of the waiters came over introduced himself and asked me a few questions. i am used to this, people want to practice their english and they try to use as many of the phrases they learned in class as possible. next he reached out a squeezed my shoulder in the same way the sales guy did, then he let his hand linger and rubbed my back. i am starting to think i am doing something to bring this on. i am not, i am just sitting and minding my own business.
but, i am starting to question myself. each of these guys has a slight build, high voices and no issues with invading close personal space. they also have personalities which set off my “gaydar” and have me thinking they are “just jack”. the issue is, i have no idea if this is normal within the local community and if i am just being sensitive. i have little or no issue with alternative lifestyles, and homophobia isn’t normally an issue for me, but why are they touching me?
even if it is that i am being hit on, what am I going to do? would it really be a good idea for me to rough up a local in a communist country? i doubt we have an embassy here, and after seeing “the deer hunter” I have no desire to expose myself to the vietnamese criminal justice system.
this does give me an idea of how women must feel if a man touches them without invitation. that shiver that when down my spine was not something i want o feel again; but at the pace this has been happening there is no way i think i will get out of the country without a repeat.
just because i am sexy does not mean i can be treated as a sex object.
when i checked into the hotel yesterday, one of the guys who works at the front desk was walking by me and patted my stomach. it was a gentle touch which i felt was meant to reassure me that they would find me a room and i should not worry. it was also a touch that sent a tingle down my spine and made me very uncomfortable in the, “did that guy just touch me like that?” way.
as i was shopping today, there was a sales guy who was trying to make a sale, and to project the friendly nature of our relationship reached out and squeezed my shoulder. he smiled at me and appeared to be saying its okay we are friends. i again was struck by the desire to gain some physical space and possibly do him some bodily harm. i surpressed these urges and just moved on in my day.
as i am sitting in a café, watching england beat on estonia, one of the waiters came over introduced himself and asked me a few questions. i am used to this, people want to practice their english and they try to use as many of the phrases they learned in class as possible. next he reached out a squeezed my shoulder in the same way the sales guy did, then he let his hand linger and rubbed my back. i am starting to think i am doing something to bring this on. i am not, i am just sitting and minding my own business.
but, i am starting to question myself. each of these guys has a slight build, high voices and no issues with invading close personal space. they also have personalities which set off my “gaydar” and have me thinking they are “just jack”. the issue is, i have no idea if this is normal within the local community and if i am just being sensitive. i have little or no issue with alternative lifestyles, and homophobia isn’t normally an issue for me, but why are they touching me?
even if it is that i am being hit on, what am I going to do? would it really be a good idea for me to rough up a local in a communist country? i doubt we have an embassy here, and after seeing “the deer hunter” I have no desire to expose myself to the vietnamese criminal justice system.
this does give me an idea of how women must feel if a man touches them without invitation. that shiver that when down my spine was not something i want o feel again; but at the pace this has been happening there is no way i think i will get out of the country without a repeat.
just because i am sexy does not mean i can be treated as a sex object.
keeping the faith
i recently described myself as a free thinking catholic agnostic. this is a clear description of my lack of faith, but my inability to let go of the religious background which i was indoctrinated as a child. the religion that gave my grandmother comfort to the last moments of her death, the same religion which as driven me away by learning the sordid history of the church and the disgusting things which have been done in the name of christianity; many at the direction of the papacy.
one of the reasons i can not declare myself an atheist, as my teenage daughter does, is that it would make me feel like i am being dismissive to the beliefs of others. i have been accused of being unwilling to take a stand. i have been told that if i believe the things i believe, i have turned my back on god and i should just say so.
but i am not ready to do that. it would make me feel as though i was disapproving of the relationship other people of faith have with their religions. just because i do not have faith, does not mean i think others who do are wrong.
in the past few years i have met people with extraordinary levels of faith. i have friends who are christian, muslim or hindu who show their commitment to their faith every day. they lead lives which are amazing to me. where do they get the strength to believe as deeply as they do? where do they get the commitment to disregard the rest of their life and put elements of it on hold until tomorrow?
many years ago i was watching a movie about the priesthood. a young priest was being counseled by an older, jaded, priest. there was a line that stood out for me, “once they have seen paris, you can not keep them down on the farm”. this line jumped out at me then, and still rattles around in my head. the basic meaning is that it’s easy to accept a life, as long as you don’t know there is another life that you are capable of having.
is this why faithful people seldom seem to stray from their faith? straying allows one to see the other options; it gives them a glimpse of the other world. these glimpses normally cause one of two reactions, it drives them to retreat deeper into their faith or it places a wedge between them and their previous unshakable belief. seeing how others live, finding out there are valid lives which do not follow all the rules of someone’s own sect, and finding that elements of the alternative life are comfortable and enjoyable to the person can be very dangerous.
the social pressure of not straying is also kept up. what would people think? what would happen to those around me if they knew i did this? somehow faith was always a personal thing for me. it could be my society, or it could be my immediate family, but all choices were always personal choices, and those around me were seldom offended. this freedom has let me try new and different things, i have definitely seen paris and I love the lights.
my ex-wife and i were talking the other day. we were discussing our son and whether or not he still had faith. you see there is a faith that most christian kids share, but that we accept they lose as they age. we try to protect them from this loss. we hide the truth from them. adults lie or tell creative stories as to why children should still believe.
once we find that the child has lost the faith, we immediately teach them to not offend others by telling them the truth. we teach them that having the faith is important to “younger” kids and they should not do anything to jeopardize that for their friends. we add our children to the vast conspiracy, inviting them into a lie they will tell for the rest of their lives. many adults later realize that the faith was worth having and that it helped them to enjoy life before the lost it. in response to this, they create a new way of looking at it and reclaim a bit of the lost faith (in complete honesty, i am one of these people).
the faith we are talking about is one of pure goodness. its one that tells us to be good, to treat others well and that if we are bad it will be known and we will not get the things we want. i am sure you know of this faith, it’s the belief in santa claus. my son’s mother believes that he still has the faith; given things he said to me over the summer, i am not so sure. but honestly we both want to believe that he still has this faith, and he is smart enough to hide the fact that he has lost it for our benefit. the last thing i am going to do is ask, I don’t want to know and i don’t want him to tell me.
don’t flame me about using this story, i am not trying to point out that your faith is anything less than true. honestly, to me it’s just like santa, as long as you believe it’s true for you. who cares what others around you believe. your faith is valid if it helps you. i can’t prove that it’s not all true, so who am i to be judgmental? i hope you can do the same for me with my beliefs.
the thing about being a free thinking catholic agnostic is that i think everyone should have the chance to come down off the farm and enjoy the life in paris. paris is a happening town, there is art, culture, learning and fun diversions. i know you love the farm, you are comfortable and know this is where you were brought up, but there is more to the world. the farm is quiet, but it’s not the city of lights.
once you have come into town, give me a call, i love the company. if you let me know you’re coming i will meet you at the airport, i don’t mind the drive.
one of the reasons i can not declare myself an atheist, as my teenage daughter does, is that it would make me feel like i am being dismissive to the beliefs of others. i have been accused of being unwilling to take a stand. i have been told that if i believe the things i believe, i have turned my back on god and i should just say so.
but i am not ready to do that. it would make me feel as though i was disapproving of the relationship other people of faith have with their religions. just because i do not have faith, does not mean i think others who do are wrong.
in the past few years i have met people with extraordinary levels of faith. i have friends who are christian, muslim or hindu who show their commitment to their faith every day. they lead lives which are amazing to me. where do they get the strength to believe as deeply as they do? where do they get the commitment to disregard the rest of their life and put elements of it on hold until tomorrow?
many years ago i was watching a movie about the priesthood. a young priest was being counseled by an older, jaded, priest. there was a line that stood out for me, “once they have seen paris, you can not keep them down on the farm”. this line jumped out at me then, and still rattles around in my head. the basic meaning is that it’s easy to accept a life, as long as you don’t know there is another life that you are capable of having.
is this why faithful people seldom seem to stray from their faith? straying allows one to see the other options; it gives them a glimpse of the other world. these glimpses normally cause one of two reactions, it drives them to retreat deeper into their faith or it places a wedge between them and their previous unshakable belief. seeing how others live, finding out there are valid lives which do not follow all the rules of someone’s own sect, and finding that elements of the alternative life are comfortable and enjoyable to the person can be very dangerous.
the social pressure of not straying is also kept up. what would people think? what would happen to those around me if they knew i did this? somehow faith was always a personal thing for me. it could be my society, or it could be my immediate family, but all choices were always personal choices, and those around me were seldom offended. this freedom has let me try new and different things, i have definitely seen paris and I love the lights.
my ex-wife and i were talking the other day. we were discussing our son and whether or not he still had faith. you see there is a faith that most christian kids share, but that we accept they lose as they age. we try to protect them from this loss. we hide the truth from them. adults lie or tell creative stories as to why children should still believe.
once we find that the child has lost the faith, we immediately teach them to not offend others by telling them the truth. we teach them that having the faith is important to “younger” kids and they should not do anything to jeopardize that for their friends. we add our children to the vast conspiracy, inviting them into a lie they will tell for the rest of their lives. many adults later realize that the faith was worth having and that it helped them to enjoy life before the lost it. in response to this, they create a new way of looking at it and reclaim a bit of the lost faith (in complete honesty, i am one of these people).
the faith we are talking about is one of pure goodness. its one that tells us to be good, to treat others well and that if we are bad it will be known and we will not get the things we want. i am sure you know of this faith, it’s the belief in santa claus. my son’s mother believes that he still has the faith; given things he said to me over the summer, i am not so sure. but honestly we both want to believe that he still has this faith, and he is smart enough to hide the fact that he has lost it for our benefit. the last thing i am going to do is ask, I don’t want to know and i don’t want him to tell me.
don’t flame me about using this story, i am not trying to point out that your faith is anything less than true. honestly, to me it’s just like santa, as long as you believe it’s true for you. who cares what others around you believe. your faith is valid if it helps you. i can’t prove that it’s not all true, so who am i to be judgmental? i hope you can do the same for me with my beliefs.
the thing about being a free thinking catholic agnostic is that i think everyone should have the chance to come down off the farm and enjoy the life in paris. paris is a happening town, there is art, culture, learning and fun diversions. i know you love the farm, you are comfortable and know this is where you were brought up, but there is more to the world. the farm is quiet, but it’s not the city of lights.
once you have come into town, give me a call, i love the company. if you let me know you’re coming i will meet you at the airport, i don’t mind the drive.
asian bohemia
i woke up this morning to the voice of a lovely vietnamese woman. although my vietnamese is restricted to a few key phrases, all in some way related to either politely moving in a crowd or ordering a drink, i was sure i was listening to something i had never heard before.
the fact that i am vacationing in a communist country is strangely reinforced by what i am sure is propaganda messaged over the light pole mounted loud speakers found all over the city. the situation is not muted by the fact that i am enjoying the dual pleasure of holding american dollars and purchasing in the loose commerce of a fast growing asian country. but the sounds were mesmerizing, and the similarity of the smooth melody to the morning call to prays which have been waking me during ramadan was not missed. the tones of the woman’s voice are both soft and motivating. the message to someone who does not speak the language appears to be one of get up, start your day and work. help us grow our nation; prepare yourself for the coming day and the job that is in front of us.
If this is the message, it is strange that it is broadcast to a nation that appears anything but communist. during my first visit to a “former” communist nation, the czech republic, i was deeply surprised at the level of commerce on the streets. the people who had grown up under russian communist rule appeared to have made the transition quickly. this may have been shocking at the time, and the world is quickly changing, even china is making moves in the direction of open economic systems, but this small hamlet of communist rule is far beyond anything i would have expected.
i was just walking and randomly shopping, really doing nothing at all and mostly looking for opportunities to take photographs of life on the street. as i shopped i found a lacquer and granite chess board, with hand carved pieces for US$ 20, i am thinking of buying two. i also found an amazing CD and DVD shop that has CDs for 10,000 dong, but if i buy in bulk i was promised to have the price come down to 7,000 dong (US$ 0.44).
i am sitting in a micro brew pub with brick walls covered in football posters, brass and stainless steel holding tanks clearly visible, and a menu full of pub grub from all over the world. there is even "com rang malaixia (fried rice malaysia style) on the menu.
i am paying 30,000 dong (US$ 1.87) for a wonderful belguim red beer on draft, a price that would have seemed cheap even before i moved to KL and got used to paying US$ 10.00 for a decent, but bottled beer. Even at this price it does seem a bit steep, given last night I was drinking in a bai hao place, sitting on plastic chairs with cars and motorcycles going by, but only paying 4,000 dong (US$ 0.11) per beer.
the main wall of the pub has 10 foot wide reproduction of a political poster that reminds the workers that by working together they are making the country stronger. as i write this there are westerners from europe, US and australia simply enjoying the beer, having conversation and most likely ignoring the fact that the country is officially communist.
i sat next to a group of aussie kids on a school trip this morning. they told me their school brought them here to teach them about the history of australian involvement in the US/vietnam war. i was not sure how coming to vietnam, eating pizza and buying sex in the city on pirated DVD could teach them about that, but why fight it. i wish my school had taken trips like this. besides, clearly this is why i am not an educator.
hanoi does appear to attract a certain type of traveler, not a surprise, hong kong and singapore attract the shoppers, bangkok attracts pedophiles, and hanoi attracts bohemians. the people who travel here are laid back, relaxed, in search of a cheap and easy place to hang out. many have travelled around asia and have come to a point where they need a refuge. they are looking for somewhere to recharge, to take in a comfortable environment and simply enjoy the easy life.
the fact that it’s cheap, the people are easy to get along with and no one seems to get upset about very much is just the bonus that makes this city great.
vietnam was able to expel the french and defeat the americans; they were also able to bring the best of both of those cultures into their own. there is a wonderful sweetness about the people, they smile and help you relax. it seems the people here are much more relaxed about themselves and those around them than the people i have met elsewhere in asia. they seem to just want to do their jobs and not worry about bigger issues like politics, religion and economic policy.
this is asian bohemia; there are art galleries, cafes and cool food establishments all over this city. people, locals and foreigners, are simply relaxed and enjoying life. there is a comfort that shows itself as you look at and smile at people. i wonder why more of asia does not want to come here, experience this way of life and then bring it back into its own culture. i can think of one city that despretely needs to have its people come here and find the meaning of really taking it easy.
this is the closest i have come to seeing “la dolce vita” in asia. the fact that its here in a communist country, and is kept motivated by early morning announcements and strange communist music played at day break really does have me reconsidering some of my earlier opinions about communism. some would say it’s the march of history that has brought the country here, i have to think it’s the artsy people who smile and make it a perfect retreat for burnt out westerners.
the fact that i am vacationing in a communist country is strangely reinforced by what i am sure is propaganda messaged over the light pole mounted loud speakers found all over the city. the situation is not muted by the fact that i am enjoying the dual pleasure of holding american dollars and purchasing in the loose commerce of a fast growing asian country. but the sounds were mesmerizing, and the similarity of the smooth melody to the morning call to prays which have been waking me during ramadan was not missed. the tones of the woman’s voice are both soft and motivating. the message to someone who does not speak the language appears to be one of get up, start your day and work. help us grow our nation; prepare yourself for the coming day and the job that is in front of us.
If this is the message, it is strange that it is broadcast to a nation that appears anything but communist. during my first visit to a “former” communist nation, the czech republic, i was deeply surprised at the level of commerce on the streets. the people who had grown up under russian communist rule appeared to have made the transition quickly. this may have been shocking at the time, and the world is quickly changing, even china is making moves in the direction of open economic systems, but this small hamlet of communist rule is far beyond anything i would have expected.
i was just walking and randomly shopping, really doing nothing at all and mostly looking for opportunities to take photographs of life on the street. as i shopped i found a lacquer and granite chess board, with hand carved pieces for US$ 20, i am thinking of buying two. i also found an amazing CD and DVD shop that has CDs for 10,000 dong, but if i buy in bulk i was promised to have the price come down to 7,000 dong (US$ 0.44).
i am sitting in a micro brew pub with brick walls covered in football posters, brass and stainless steel holding tanks clearly visible, and a menu full of pub grub from all over the world. there is even "com rang malaixia (fried rice malaysia style) on the menu.
i am paying 30,000 dong (US$ 1.87) for a wonderful belguim red beer on draft, a price that would have seemed cheap even before i moved to KL and got used to paying US$ 10.00 for a decent, but bottled beer. Even at this price it does seem a bit steep, given last night I was drinking in a bai hao place, sitting on plastic chairs with cars and motorcycles going by, but only paying 4,000 dong (US$ 0.11) per beer.
the main wall of the pub has 10 foot wide reproduction of a political poster that reminds the workers that by working together they are making the country stronger. as i write this there are westerners from europe, US and australia simply enjoying the beer, having conversation and most likely ignoring the fact that the country is officially communist.
i sat next to a group of aussie kids on a school trip this morning. they told me their school brought them here to teach them about the history of australian involvement in the US/vietnam war. i was not sure how coming to vietnam, eating pizza and buying sex in the city on pirated DVD could teach them about that, but why fight it. i wish my school had taken trips like this. besides, clearly this is why i am not an educator.
hanoi does appear to attract a certain type of traveler, not a surprise, hong kong and singapore attract the shoppers, bangkok attracts pedophiles, and hanoi attracts bohemians. the people who travel here are laid back, relaxed, in search of a cheap and easy place to hang out. many have travelled around asia and have come to a point where they need a refuge. they are looking for somewhere to recharge, to take in a comfortable environment and simply enjoy the easy life.
the fact that it’s cheap, the people are easy to get along with and no one seems to get upset about very much is just the bonus that makes this city great.
vietnam was able to expel the french and defeat the americans; they were also able to bring the best of both of those cultures into their own. there is a wonderful sweetness about the people, they smile and help you relax. it seems the people here are much more relaxed about themselves and those around them than the people i have met elsewhere in asia. they seem to just want to do their jobs and not worry about bigger issues like politics, religion and economic policy.
this is asian bohemia; there are art galleries, cafes and cool food establishments all over this city. people, locals and foreigners, are simply relaxed and enjoying life. there is a comfort that shows itself as you look at and smile at people. i wonder why more of asia does not want to come here, experience this way of life and then bring it back into its own culture. i can think of one city that despretely needs to have its people come here and find the meaning of really taking it easy.
this is the closest i have come to seeing “la dolce vita” in asia. the fact that its here in a communist country, and is kept motivated by early morning announcements and strange communist music played at day break really does have me reconsidering some of my earlier opinions about communism. some would say it’s the march of history that has brought the country here, i have to think it’s the artsy people who smile and make it a perfect retreat for burnt out westerners.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
before i die
a few years ago i saw life starting to change, i felt i needed to come up with a plan, a road map, a list of things i wanted to do before it was too late. the following is the list i came up with. the list has changed over time, i have done some, i have let life push and pull me, but i have a plan.
(these are in no particular order)
1. pub crawl in dublin
2. mass at saint peters
3. fly a helicopter
4. sail across an ocean
5. be published
6. ride the orient express
7. run a marathon
8. drive across the silk road
9. swim newport to jamestown
10. give ashley away at her wedding
11. hold my first grandchild
12. own my/our house outright
13. kiss passionately on our 30th anniversary
14. cycle across the usa
15. go to mardi gras
16. jam with a band, in front of people
17. lay on a greek beach naked
18. climb the pyramids at gisa
19. order dinner in french (in france) -- done
20. run with the bulls in pampolna
21. climb kilimanjaro
22. walk on the great wall
23. write an app people know and love
24. get lifeguard certification renewed
25. surf a wave larger than 5 feet again
26. see the aurora borealis
27. scuba on the great barrier reef
28. teach
29. work everyday for the love of it
30. hold each other as one of us dies
maybe the issue i have is that roadmaps are like recipes for me. they are more of a guide to use at the start of a journey than the path to the destination. now that i have these on the list, i feel like i can do other things, because i know i won’t forget them as life moves down the road with me.
why would i be upset that i have not done these things, look at the things not on the list that i have accomplished since writing it:
(also in no particular order)
1. lead a core development team of a major .com
2. move to asia and experience a new culture; or three
3. learn just enough language skills to survive on any continent in the world
4. stand on the eiffel tower with my kids
5. see a sunrise over prague
6. see a sunset over south china sea
7. drink US$ 0.12 beers with backpackers in a former communist country
8. buy “coffee” from a café in amsterdam
9. teach E to surf
10. make sure the kids know i love them every day
11. sing flemish folk songs in a turkish/moroccan bar in belguim
12. photograph street culture in india
13. see paris blink at night; twice in 7 months
14. relax and have fun after losing $2,000 worth of train tickets
15. find a flamingo at home
16. bring a loved one back from the dead
17. swimming in halong bay during a rain storm
18. take off on a domestic flight and land in the planned location, but as an international flight
19. photograph smiles on three continents, 7 countries, in 10 days
20. build something that wouldn’t have happened without me
21. play with a little man who speaks no english but knows what i am saying
22. swim in the moonlight, after a music festival in the rainforest
23. chase my son in a triathlon, winning a friendship
24. be in my son's classroom 4 times in one year, while living 12,000 miles away
25. opening a bottle of champaign with a saber
26. leaving a bbq at 2 AM and driving until sunrise to make a flight with my best friend
27. carpe diem
who says you need to follow a roadmap to be happy. life happens one day at a time, the past years are teaching me that loving life means taking things as they come and being able to take a risk to enjoy life.
(these are in no particular order)
1. pub crawl in dublin
2. mass at saint peters
3. fly a helicopter
4. sail across an ocean
5. be published
6. ride the orient express
7. run a marathon
8. drive across the silk road
9. swim newport to jamestown
10. give ashley away at her wedding
11. hold my first grandchild
12. own my/our house outright
13. kiss passionately on our 30th anniversary
14. cycle across the usa
15. go to mardi gras
16. jam with a band, in front of people
17. lay on a greek beach naked
18. climb the pyramids at gisa
19. order dinner in french (in france) -- done
20. run with the bulls in pampolna
21. climb kilimanjaro
22. walk on the great wall
23. write an app people know and love
24. get lifeguard certification renewed
25. surf a wave larger than 5 feet again
26. see the aurora borealis
27. scuba on the great barrier reef
28. teach
29. work everyday for the love of it
30. hold each other as one of us dies
maybe the issue i have is that roadmaps are like recipes for me. they are more of a guide to use at the start of a journey than the path to the destination. now that i have these on the list, i feel like i can do other things, because i know i won’t forget them as life moves down the road with me.
why would i be upset that i have not done these things, look at the things not on the list that i have accomplished since writing it:
(also in no particular order)
1. lead a core development team of a major .com
2. move to asia and experience a new culture; or three
3. learn just enough language skills to survive on any continent in the world
4. stand on the eiffel tower with my kids
5. see a sunrise over prague
6. see a sunset over south china sea
7. drink US$ 0.12 beers with backpackers in a former communist country
8. buy “coffee” from a café in amsterdam
9. teach E to surf
10. make sure the kids know i love them every day
11. sing flemish folk songs in a turkish/moroccan bar in belguim
12. photograph street culture in india
13. see paris blink at night; twice in 7 months
14. relax and have fun after losing $2,000 worth of train tickets
15. find a flamingo at home
16. bring a loved one back from the dead
17. swimming in halong bay during a rain storm
18. take off on a domestic flight and land in the planned location, but as an international flight
19. photograph smiles on three continents, 7 countries, in 10 days
20. build something that wouldn’t have happened without me
21. play with a little man who speaks no english but knows what i am saying
22. swim in the moonlight, after a music festival in the rainforest
23. chase my son in a triathlon, winning a friendship
24. be in my son's classroom 4 times in one year, while living 12,000 miles away
25. opening a bottle of champaign with a saber
26. leaving a bbq at 2 AM and driving until sunrise to make a flight with my best friend
27. carpe diem
who says you need to follow a roadmap to be happy. life happens one day at a time, the past years are teaching me that loving life means taking things as they come and being able to take a risk to enjoy life.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
sweet tooth
my last post was about fasting, while i was thinking about that post i had a realization. the realization was not a shock, its something i understand about myself, but have come to a new appreciation of it. i have a sweet tooth. when given the chance to indulge the sweet tooth, i almost always say yes. for someone who is fasting, allowing the indulgence is not an option. and yet, the sweet tooth does not go away.
as the fasting time approached i had found that i was over the limit on some of my snacking. i was planning my days around the next fix of my sweet tooth. i would consider the next meal, how to ensure there was time to relax and enjoy the dessert, how to not fill up on the things that were “good for me” to allow the enjoyment of the things that were not.
this is the thing with a sweet tooth, it is the taste of sweetness in the mouth, the buzz that comes from enjoying the sugar high, the relaxed feeling that comes from the post indulgence crash that drives one to keep doing it. the alternative is to “be good”, to consider your meals based on what they will do for you in the long term. adding time horizons to decisions do help you make choices, but ignoring them does allow you to simply enjoy.
i have a friend who is a devote vegetarian, she has a level of self control which i find amazing. one of my favorite treats are pop-tarts, i find them to be the perfect mix of easy to hold, sweet to taste and ready to share because they come two to a package. i offered one to her the other day and we ended up reading the back of the box, going ingredient by ingredient to ensure this breakfast treat cum sweet tooth indulgence did not have lingering animal products. after the search we shared the pop tarts with a clear conscience, if not a strong feeling of trepidation.
a few days later, she mentioned to me that she had done more research and found that one of the very minor ingredients could be an animal product. the information came with a sense of regret, her for trying something she did not want to try and me for convincing someone to enjoy something that they did not want to enjoy. i was simply enjoying a sweet treat which is normal and acceptable for me to enjoy, she was going against her core values. i was enjoying an indulgence which i know is strictly not good for me though. i wonder what the karma implications of all this is. i offered out of a sense of sharing, hoping i could give someone something they would enjoy as much as i did. did either of us do anything wrong?
as i sit in my sunday brunch location i have sweets all around me. i can decide to have one or not, every day comes with many choices. i have never thought the decisions of today have to have lasting impacts on our entire lives. if i do over indulge today, can i simply improve tomorrow, fast, go for a run, act in some way to make up for or counter the previous indulgence? does tasting this chocolate sweet today really have to be something i carry regret, bad karma, for more than the time to digest it?
being an adult is about realizing your choices come with the need to burn those calories away later. if you over indulge, at some point you need to either live with the extra weight you are carrying around, or you need to change your behavior, diet, burn those pounds off so that they are gone. the calories can be eliminated, but only by stopping to indulge and changing your patterns so the zero sum game of life beings to move in your direction again.
we all make these decisions every day. some of us very high metabolisms, meaning we can enjoy, or crave, more than others. some of us have high degrees of self control, or is it that we are more tolerant to the pain that imposing that control brings us. either way, we are all different. even those of us with a sweet tooth, those of us who find and enjoy sweets more than we possibly should, we all need to accept that indulgence does come with responsibility, responsibility for our own decisions.
as the fasting time approached i had found that i was over the limit on some of my snacking. i was planning my days around the next fix of my sweet tooth. i would consider the next meal, how to ensure there was time to relax and enjoy the dessert, how to not fill up on the things that were “good for me” to allow the enjoyment of the things that were not.
this is the thing with a sweet tooth, it is the taste of sweetness in the mouth, the buzz that comes from enjoying the sugar high, the relaxed feeling that comes from the post indulgence crash that drives one to keep doing it. the alternative is to “be good”, to consider your meals based on what they will do for you in the long term. adding time horizons to decisions do help you make choices, but ignoring them does allow you to simply enjoy.
i have a friend who is a devote vegetarian, she has a level of self control which i find amazing. one of my favorite treats are pop-tarts, i find them to be the perfect mix of easy to hold, sweet to taste and ready to share because they come two to a package. i offered one to her the other day and we ended up reading the back of the box, going ingredient by ingredient to ensure this breakfast treat cum sweet tooth indulgence did not have lingering animal products. after the search we shared the pop tarts with a clear conscience, if not a strong feeling of trepidation.
a few days later, she mentioned to me that she had done more research and found that one of the very minor ingredients could be an animal product. the information came with a sense of regret, her for trying something she did not want to try and me for convincing someone to enjoy something that they did not want to enjoy. i was simply enjoying a sweet treat which is normal and acceptable for me to enjoy, she was going against her core values. i was enjoying an indulgence which i know is strictly not good for me though. i wonder what the karma implications of all this is. i offered out of a sense of sharing, hoping i could give someone something they would enjoy as much as i did. did either of us do anything wrong?
as i sit in my sunday brunch location i have sweets all around me. i can decide to have one or not, every day comes with many choices. i have never thought the decisions of today have to have lasting impacts on our entire lives. if i do over indulge today, can i simply improve tomorrow, fast, go for a run, act in some way to make up for or counter the previous indulgence? does tasting this chocolate sweet today really have to be something i carry regret, bad karma, for more than the time to digest it?
being an adult is about realizing your choices come with the need to burn those calories away later. if you over indulge, at some point you need to either live with the extra weight you are carrying around, or you need to change your behavior, diet, burn those pounds off so that they are gone. the calories can be eliminated, but only by stopping to indulge and changing your patterns so the zero sum game of life beings to move in your direction again.
we all make these decisions every day. some of us very high metabolisms, meaning we can enjoy, or crave, more than others. some of us have high degrees of self control, or is it that we are more tolerant to the pain that imposing that control brings us. either way, we are all different. even those of us with a sweet tooth, those of us who find and enjoy sweets more than we possibly should, we all need to accept that indulgence does come with responsibility, responsibility for our own decisions.
feast or fasting
i have spent the last month trying something i have never done before. i have friends and staff who are fasting for ramadan, so i thought i would do it also. i thought of it as a sense of camaraderie, but also just trying something i have never done before. this was not a religious thing; god knows i don’t do many things for the religious reasons. if i had done if for religious reasons i was very bad at following the muslim rules on fasting. i took a modified approach to the task one built on the basics of christian fasting i learned as a child but never practiced. even so, i have been better at it than i expected myself to be.
the muslims are getting up at 5 AM or not eating before dinner time. neither of these are an option of me, waking up that early, when i go to bed between 1 and 2 AM is just not going to happen. i made sure i got up as early as i could, but still ate breakfast at my standard bakery stop.
the alteration i made was to try to eat half of what i wanted to for breakfast. at first i also dropped the coffee intake, but stress and less than enough sleep stepped on that plan pretty early into ramadan. from there it was just no food or drink for the day, not until sundown or about 7:15 at night. here is where i also separated, the muslims tied this to the time prays began at night, which is a bit earlier every night this time of year. i simply set it to 7:15 and left it there. to compensate for my breakfast time, i thought about making it later but i went with the standard time.
not eating during most days was less difficult than i expected. the idea of not drinking all day was the most stressful for me before i started, but in the end that wasn’t too bad either. i had planned on drinking water, as we allowed to do in christian fasting, but found it was not needed. when i was thirsty, i just waited and the desire normally went away. this is counter to the normal approach where i feel the thirst and either get a drink or plan to get a drink, either way the commitment to the action is normally enough to make sure it happens.
i did break fast three days along the way, once for the lunch with a visiting colleague, and twice just because i was hungry and simply felt like breaking. again, its good to be doing this just for me, without god waiting in the wings to get pissed and to send a bolt of lightening down to punish me for my “teh-o ais lemau”. its also a lot easier that no one expects me to be puasar, no dirty looks when i eat or drink. mat salleh’s are not expected to follow the rules.
people had warned me about putting weight on during fasting; i honestly could not think of a more upsetting outcome. i countered this by controlling the meals, nearly eliminating sweets and eating as little carbs as possible during the night time meal. this has worked out. i have not lost a ton of weight, but i have lost. i did watch the people around me who were also fasting, i went to “buka puasar” meals and was shocked at the amount of food offered. no wonder people put weight on.
this is when i realized, this fasting month is really also a feasting month; it’s just a delayed feast. people deny themselves all day, to allow themselves to feast at night. this ends with the coming hari raya feast, which is the end of ramadan and the largest and final feasting event. every one else is building to this, i on the other hand are worried the fasting will stop for me. i am planning on going to vietnam for hari raya, this will mean i will not see the true feasting really begin. i guess i will simply have a slow long weekend of vietnamese noodles, vegetarian food and bao hai (fresh beer -- i know again not very muslim).
i have liked two things about the fasting, each have helped to improve the way i fell about life in general. the first is the self denial that the fasting brought. normally, there are few times where i actively practice self denial. i tend to eat and drink what i want, when i want. i do think at times, “oh this is a bit much”, but i rationalize it away and decide there is always tomorrow to make up for it. no rationalizing was needed this month, i had said i was doing something so i did it, and the balance was just about right.
the second thing i enjoyed was that my life took on a new structure. it was easy to schedule times to eat with the people i wanted to and to know when i needed to leave the office to ensure i was home in time to break fast. life took on some balance, because there was a new need to fill, i had to buka, i could not just go have a pop-tart and sit back down to email. i found that “having to have” a life actually helps you to have a life. this was a nice rationalization for a work centered person, more so when work has been so crazy lately.
overall the fasting has been positive, the structure and the denial have helped me. they have made me feel better and be more balanced. i hope that when the month is over, i do not just slip back into my previous life. the major realization for me is self denial is good, if it provides you with the structure to overcome your lack of control on things that you really should be in control of.
there is just no way having 60% of the population getting up at 5 AM is a good thing for a nation though.
the muslims are getting up at 5 AM or not eating before dinner time. neither of these are an option of me, waking up that early, when i go to bed between 1 and 2 AM is just not going to happen. i made sure i got up as early as i could, but still ate breakfast at my standard bakery stop.
the alteration i made was to try to eat half of what i wanted to for breakfast. at first i also dropped the coffee intake, but stress and less than enough sleep stepped on that plan pretty early into ramadan. from there it was just no food or drink for the day, not until sundown or about 7:15 at night. here is where i also separated, the muslims tied this to the time prays began at night, which is a bit earlier every night this time of year. i simply set it to 7:15 and left it there. to compensate for my breakfast time, i thought about making it later but i went with the standard time.
not eating during most days was less difficult than i expected. the idea of not drinking all day was the most stressful for me before i started, but in the end that wasn’t too bad either. i had planned on drinking water, as we allowed to do in christian fasting, but found it was not needed. when i was thirsty, i just waited and the desire normally went away. this is counter to the normal approach where i feel the thirst and either get a drink or plan to get a drink, either way the commitment to the action is normally enough to make sure it happens.
i did break fast three days along the way, once for the lunch with a visiting colleague, and twice just because i was hungry and simply felt like breaking. again, its good to be doing this just for me, without god waiting in the wings to get pissed and to send a bolt of lightening down to punish me for my “teh-o ais lemau”. its also a lot easier that no one expects me to be puasar, no dirty looks when i eat or drink. mat salleh’s are not expected to follow the rules.
people had warned me about putting weight on during fasting; i honestly could not think of a more upsetting outcome. i countered this by controlling the meals, nearly eliminating sweets and eating as little carbs as possible during the night time meal. this has worked out. i have not lost a ton of weight, but i have lost. i did watch the people around me who were also fasting, i went to “buka puasar” meals and was shocked at the amount of food offered. no wonder people put weight on.
this is when i realized, this fasting month is really also a feasting month; it’s just a delayed feast. people deny themselves all day, to allow themselves to feast at night. this ends with the coming hari raya feast, which is the end of ramadan and the largest and final feasting event. every one else is building to this, i on the other hand are worried the fasting will stop for me. i am planning on going to vietnam for hari raya, this will mean i will not see the true feasting really begin. i guess i will simply have a slow long weekend of vietnamese noodles, vegetarian food and bao hai (fresh beer -- i know again not very muslim).
i have liked two things about the fasting, each have helped to improve the way i fell about life in general. the first is the self denial that the fasting brought. normally, there are few times where i actively practice self denial. i tend to eat and drink what i want, when i want. i do think at times, “oh this is a bit much”, but i rationalize it away and decide there is always tomorrow to make up for it. no rationalizing was needed this month, i had said i was doing something so i did it, and the balance was just about right.
the second thing i enjoyed was that my life took on a new structure. it was easy to schedule times to eat with the people i wanted to and to know when i needed to leave the office to ensure i was home in time to break fast. life took on some balance, because there was a new need to fill, i had to buka, i could not just go have a pop-tart and sit back down to email. i found that “having to have” a life actually helps you to have a life. this was a nice rationalization for a work centered person, more so when work has been so crazy lately.
overall the fasting has been positive, the structure and the denial have helped me. they have made me feel better and be more balanced. i hope that when the month is over, i do not just slip back into my previous life. the major realization for me is self denial is good, if it provides you with the structure to overcome your lack of control on things that you really should be in control of.
there is just no way having 60% of the population getting up at 5 AM is a good thing for a nation though.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
maverick
the summer of 1986 was a tough time for me. i had just suffered the worst accident of my life, i had been crushed by a tractor, both legs were pinned and one was in a cast for the next year. the life i had wanted from the time i was nine, to be a pilot in the US marine corps had been washed away by a tragic slip of a clutch. at the time, i was still in denial, i wanted to believe i could recover from this and go right back to the life i had planned. i had chosen to go with gravity, meaning no pins were surgically inserted into my leg to hold the bones together, a decision made within hours of the break when the doctor told me pins would mean i would never be able to join the military.
in retrospect this decision was just dumb. someone else in my college had more or less the same break a week after me while playing baseball. he returned to school at the end of the summer running and playing sports. it was 8 more months before i was out of the cast and two years before i could really compete in sports again. i should have gone the easy route, but it would have meant accepting my defeat and i was not ready for that.
i have been spending time thinking about that summer, which was also the summer that top gun came out, tom cruise played the tormented pilot with a checkered history of stupid decisions and issues with authority. i saw the film which i really enjoyed, went out to get in my fathers car that a friend was driving (driving is really hard when your right leg is in a cast up to your hip), and it hit me that my life would never be as the pilot i wanted to be. i would never have the chance to launch of a carrier and save a friend. i broke into tears and smashed my hand through the dashboard, leaving a clearly identifiable fist mark which my father never asked me about.
as i remember the movie the first quotes that come to mind are, maverick saying, “i feel the need, the need for speed” or goose asking maverick if he still had the number for the truck driving school, “so we can drive the big rigs, yeah i might need that.” the one that really stands out is carol (meg ryan) asking goose to “take me to bed, or lose me forever”, what guy could forget meg ryan or kelly mcgillis saying that.
i was recently accused of not being able to engage. someone else told me i was a coward for not being willing to fight for the things that i want. as i think about this, i remember the hesitancy i felt in many aspects of my life after the accident, and i think back to this movie also. maverick watches his best friend smash his head against the canopy and later swims over and finds him dead. afterwards people expect him to just move on, to keep fighting. at one point someone tries to push him into taking a shot, and he yells, “i will shoot when i am god damn good and ready”, immediately after this exchange maverick quits and walks away.
this is what i have been thinking about. when is it time to get back in there and fight? when is it time to stop thinking about the friend you found floating dead and broken; a friend you felt as though you should have protected? when do you remember that you really are capable of engaging, being better, faster and stronger and winning any battle you decide to fight?
one of my favorite scenes in the movie is when the top gun squadron commander, someone who almost stole the film for me comes to maverick and tells him goose is gone. maverick is shaving, the metaphor of attempting to cleanse the guilt and pain away is clear. the dark and steamy bathroom scene unfolds with:
viper: how ya doin'?
maverick: i'm all right.
viper: goose is dead.
maverick: i know.
viper: you fly jets long enough, something like this happens.
maverick: he was my r.i.o., my responsibility.
viper: my squadron we lost 8 of 18 aircraft. 10 men. first one dies you die too, but there will be others. you can count on that. you gotta let him go. you gotta let him go.
in the end maverick does let goose go, he throws his dog tags he has been holding onto into the ocean and buries him within the waves they used to cruise together. this is only after he has fought a real battle, one that he froze in the middle of and some how found the strength to push through the fear and find the ability to “do some of that pilot shit”.
maverick was a role model for me once, or was more of a reflection of something i thought i wanted to be. he is now a reflection of me in another way. i don’t look much like maverick any more (yes people did tell me this when i was younger), i am more like the bald cag who sends maverick and goose to top gun in the first place, but i do still think of maverick at times. maybe it’s the times where i see myself about to do something reckless and i hear the following exchange in my head:
goose: no. no, mav, this is not a good idea.
maverick: sorry goose, but it's time to buzz a tower.
in retrospect this decision was just dumb. someone else in my college had more or less the same break a week after me while playing baseball. he returned to school at the end of the summer running and playing sports. it was 8 more months before i was out of the cast and two years before i could really compete in sports again. i should have gone the easy route, but it would have meant accepting my defeat and i was not ready for that.
i have been spending time thinking about that summer, which was also the summer that top gun came out, tom cruise played the tormented pilot with a checkered history of stupid decisions and issues with authority. i saw the film which i really enjoyed, went out to get in my fathers car that a friend was driving (driving is really hard when your right leg is in a cast up to your hip), and it hit me that my life would never be as the pilot i wanted to be. i would never have the chance to launch of a carrier and save a friend. i broke into tears and smashed my hand through the dashboard, leaving a clearly identifiable fist mark which my father never asked me about.
as i remember the movie the first quotes that come to mind are, maverick saying, “i feel the need, the need for speed” or goose asking maverick if he still had the number for the truck driving school, “so we can drive the big rigs, yeah i might need that.” the one that really stands out is carol (meg ryan) asking goose to “take me to bed, or lose me forever”, what guy could forget meg ryan or kelly mcgillis saying that.
i was recently accused of not being able to engage. someone else told me i was a coward for not being willing to fight for the things that i want. as i think about this, i remember the hesitancy i felt in many aspects of my life after the accident, and i think back to this movie also. maverick watches his best friend smash his head against the canopy and later swims over and finds him dead. afterwards people expect him to just move on, to keep fighting. at one point someone tries to push him into taking a shot, and he yells, “i will shoot when i am god damn good and ready”, immediately after this exchange maverick quits and walks away.
this is what i have been thinking about. when is it time to get back in there and fight? when is it time to stop thinking about the friend you found floating dead and broken; a friend you felt as though you should have protected? when do you remember that you really are capable of engaging, being better, faster and stronger and winning any battle you decide to fight?
one of my favorite scenes in the movie is when the top gun squadron commander, someone who almost stole the film for me comes to maverick and tells him goose is gone. maverick is shaving, the metaphor of attempting to cleanse the guilt and pain away is clear. the dark and steamy bathroom scene unfolds with:
viper: how ya doin'?
maverick: i'm all right.
viper: goose is dead.
maverick: i know.
viper: you fly jets long enough, something like this happens.
maverick: he was my r.i.o., my responsibility.
viper: my squadron we lost 8 of 18 aircraft. 10 men. first one dies you die too, but there will be others. you can count on that. you gotta let him go. you gotta let him go.
in the end maverick does let goose go, he throws his dog tags he has been holding onto into the ocean and buries him within the waves they used to cruise together. this is only after he has fought a real battle, one that he froze in the middle of and some how found the strength to push through the fear and find the ability to “do some of that pilot shit”.
maverick was a role model for me once, or was more of a reflection of something i thought i wanted to be. he is now a reflection of me in another way. i don’t look much like maverick any more (yes people did tell me this when i was younger), i am more like the bald cag who sends maverick and goose to top gun in the first place, but i do still think of maverick at times. maybe it’s the times where i see myself about to do something reckless and i hear the following exchange in my head:
goose: no. no, mav, this is not a good idea.
maverick: sorry goose, but it's time to buzz a tower.
eastern comfort
coming to asia comes with many challenges, many new experiences. some are obvious, learning new social customs, experiencing new foods, taking on new languages. all of this is obvious and expected from a westerner who is coming to asia for the first time. our friends and family ask us if we are prepared, we say “sure, no problem”; but secretly we wonder ourselves. as I said, this is expected, but there are less expected issues you confront as an expat in asia, some that are hard to anticipate or to ask about in polite social situations.
the first time i was confronted with the most urgent of these issues was in singapore’s changi airport, it was my first trip to asia, i was waiting for my connecting flight and realized i had to find a bathroom in a hurry. i searched for a few minutes and finally found a small bathroom near the restaurants on the first floor (at the time thought of as the second floor based on my american training), i walked in behind another traveler who took the second of two stalls, i pushed the door on the first stall, as i read a sign on the door, i was perplexed by the warning to take care of the trench. as I pondered what that meant, but was happy to find the door open given my urgent need, i looked up and found myself face to face with my first eastern toilet.
i remember myself, standing in shocked confusion for a moment as i pondered the situation. the room was very clean and i was sure i was capable of using the device; i have been camping or in need of relief while outdoors my entire life. this was different; the thought of using indoor facilities while in a squatting position was, well let’s say it came with a level of stress. realizing i had promised to live here in asia for the next few years, i decided that “while in asia, i must do as the asians do”.
my next experience with the eastern toilet came with a trip to mid valley, the major shopping center of KL. i again was in urgent need, as i came into the bathroom, i realized the only option was the eastern style, i said to myself, “i am a pro at this, sure there is the question of balance, but i have done this before no issue”. i move ahead with confidence, and as i was about to complete the process i realized with horror that there is no tissue dispenser inside the stall. i of course have seen the hose which is present in all bathrooms, but not having childhood experience, i have simply ignored that assuming it was there to help the maintence staff, not the patrons. i now realized, it must be there for my use. but how, how can this be used without leaving wet and uncomfortable?
the solution to this was to use the hose, pack up, go outside and find the large tissue dispenser on the wall, not near the door, but on the far side of the wall near the sinks and finally to return to the stall to as we shall say, finish the process. Nnote to self, look before you begin to use and better yet carry tissue with you at all times; an addition i have made to my messenger bag.
future trips to bathrooms around the country have lead to an understanding that water is used in the process. most times, especially in the western style rooms, too much water is used. I brought my son to the bathroom in an indian restaurant, he took one look at the water which had soaked not only the floor and toilet but the walls 6 feet high, and he openly refused to use the bathroom. it did not matter how badly he needed to go, this was not an option for him. he required the clean environment he expected with the uniform dryness in western bathrooms.
situations have followed which have made me happy to have a place to go without needing to touch the surroundings. i have needed the hose that is ever present. i have come to desire the eastern style for its lack of contact, for its simplicity and directness. i am still completely uncomfortable with the idea of water only, and shy away from the hose in general, but I do understand the desire to use the local style.
i am still confused, or should i say perplexed by the entire process. how is one to balance, ensure no piece of garment comes in contact with the wet floor, that the shirt does not touch anything in back and that any wrong choice in position does not result in a missed deposit? i do wish at times that i was wearing a sarong rather than shorts or pants, it seems the more sensible choice given the position.
embracing this part of a culture is the sign of real acceptance; or of need. i have wondered how the locals would feel going to the west and not having the water enabled bathrooms. what would they do when using a guest bathroom in someone’s house in the west? how would a westerner feel if their malaysian guest were to help them by rinsing their toilet seat for the next guest? what would that next guest think when they went in to do their thing and found a soaked seat and floor?
coming to asia and feeling comfortable takes more than learning a bit of language and trying some new foods. to do it successfully it takes one to find comfort in the areas of their life that is private as well. it takes acceptance of small things which can be very alien. it takes finding a new way to balance yourself when you are trying to do the most natural things in new and different ways.
the first time i was confronted with the most urgent of these issues was in singapore’s changi airport, it was my first trip to asia, i was waiting for my connecting flight and realized i had to find a bathroom in a hurry. i searched for a few minutes and finally found a small bathroom near the restaurants on the first floor (at the time thought of as the second floor based on my american training), i walked in behind another traveler who took the second of two stalls, i pushed the door on the first stall, as i read a sign on the door, i was perplexed by the warning to take care of the trench. as I pondered what that meant, but was happy to find the door open given my urgent need, i looked up and found myself face to face with my first eastern toilet.
i remember myself, standing in shocked confusion for a moment as i pondered the situation. the room was very clean and i was sure i was capable of using the device; i have been camping or in need of relief while outdoors my entire life. this was different; the thought of using indoor facilities while in a squatting position was, well let’s say it came with a level of stress. realizing i had promised to live here in asia for the next few years, i decided that “while in asia, i must do as the asians do”.
my next experience with the eastern toilet came with a trip to mid valley, the major shopping center of KL. i again was in urgent need, as i came into the bathroom, i realized the only option was the eastern style, i said to myself, “i am a pro at this, sure there is the question of balance, but i have done this before no issue”. i move ahead with confidence, and as i was about to complete the process i realized with horror that there is no tissue dispenser inside the stall. i of course have seen the hose which is present in all bathrooms, but not having childhood experience, i have simply ignored that assuming it was there to help the maintence staff, not the patrons. i now realized, it must be there for my use. but how, how can this be used without leaving wet and uncomfortable?
the solution to this was to use the hose, pack up, go outside and find the large tissue dispenser on the wall, not near the door, but on the far side of the wall near the sinks and finally to return to the stall to as we shall say, finish the process. Nnote to self, look before you begin to use and better yet carry tissue with you at all times; an addition i have made to my messenger bag.
future trips to bathrooms around the country have lead to an understanding that water is used in the process. most times, especially in the western style rooms, too much water is used. I brought my son to the bathroom in an indian restaurant, he took one look at the water which had soaked not only the floor and toilet but the walls 6 feet high, and he openly refused to use the bathroom. it did not matter how badly he needed to go, this was not an option for him. he required the clean environment he expected with the uniform dryness in western bathrooms.
situations have followed which have made me happy to have a place to go without needing to touch the surroundings. i have needed the hose that is ever present. i have come to desire the eastern style for its lack of contact, for its simplicity and directness. i am still completely uncomfortable with the idea of water only, and shy away from the hose in general, but I do understand the desire to use the local style.
i am still confused, or should i say perplexed by the entire process. how is one to balance, ensure no piece of garment comes in contact with the wet floor, that the shirt does not touch anything in back and that any wrong choice in position does not result in a missed deposit? i do wish at times that i was wearing a sarong rather than shorts or pants, it seems the more sensible choice given the position.
embracing this part of a culture is the sign of real acceptance; or of need. i have wondered how the locals would feel going to the west and not having the water enabled bathrooms. what would they do when using a guest bathroom in someone’s house in the west? how would a westerner feel if their malaysian guest were to help them by rinsing their toilet seat for the next guest? what would that next guest think when they went in to do their thing and found a soaked seat and floor?
coming to asia and feeling comfortable takes more than learning a bit of language and trying some new foods. to do it successfully it takes one to find comfort in the areas of their life that is private as well. it takes acceptance of small things which can be very alien. it takes finding a new way to balance yourself when you are trying to do the most natural things in new and different ways.
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