Not built in a day

This project about taxi drivers in Bangkok has, of course, already gotten me thinking about a lot of things. My experiences here, funny moments, frustrating moments, the art of being an observer in a new place, and so on. One thing that's a little unexpected is that this project has made me think a lot about my blog.

If you look at the other blogs in my sidebar, they all appeal to me for different reasons. The thing that is perhaps most appealing about all of them, however, is the fact that they all have very interesting story arcs. In other words, they document journeys as people go through life changes: a first year of marriage, purchasing a home, trying to get pregnant, planning a move from one coast to the other, raising a family. These are stories about BUILDING things. About permanence. These stories are long, steady streams that weave slowly through these bloggers' lives, thickening and deepening and carving out the future.

My blog, on the other hand, feels like a series of snapshots. A series of vignettes. Short bursts of stories that are essentially complete entities unto themselves. Sure, they are colorful and interesting and different and even exotic, but they are generally not arcs. They do not build on one another.

I certainly don't mean to compare myself to other people or live vicariously through them, nor do I want to make it sound like my life is somehow less significant. My only intention is just to say that it is interesting to read about people who are BUILDING something in their lives. When you live overseas, especially if you are only overseas for a limited amount of time, it's not so easy to build things. Friends come and go very frequently as dictated by their job contracts. It's easy to avoid hanging things on walls, or accumulating too much stuff because, well, you're only going to be here for so long. Add a long-distance love to that, and Important Life Discussions about marriage and kids and joint checking accounts just have to wait until later.

On the positive side of all of this, this series of moments and trips and encounters and brief, ephemeral connections with people and postcards and souvenirs that my life has become has taught me much more about the present moment. Sure, I'm not building things that will set the course for my future, but I am absolutely consumed with the present moment. For the first time in my life, I'm really LOOKING and SEEING and trying not to hurry through all of it. But that, in and of itself, has been extremely challenging.

I think that's a big reason why I've become extremely invested (and almost obsessively so) in the school: it's something that I'm building, that will be here (hopefully) long after I have gone, and I can actively shape and mold its future with my own two hands. While my personal future may be in a bit of a holding pattern until after my time here is done, this school is something that I can impact every single day.

I guess I've hit a patch where I'm simultaneously so content and at peace, and so lonely and conflicted. But isn't that life, no matter WHERE you are and WHAT you're doing?? At any rate, I'm trying not to think too much right now. By the time I get things all figured out, and I've accepted the difficult things, and gotten to the point where the meaning in all of this is crystal clear, it will be time to get on an airplane and come home. And start all over again.

I think that's enough thinking for today. I need to swim some laps and drink some green tea and plan my trip to Cambodia. I need to be in utter awe of the present moment and fill up another memory card with pictures of Asia in all of its quirky and elegant beauty.