A-leavin' on a jet plane

So I think I've been a tad bit whiny on here (and in my life) lately, my apologies. As usual, my life has been a fabulous and well decorated roller coaster. I can't believe how chock full o' stuff--both amazing and sucky--the last six weeks have been! And now I'm about to get on a plane in a few hours and head home to my family for three weeks. I haven't been back to the U.S. in a year!! And while I mentioned in my last post that I was somewhat nervous about this trip (see? WHINY!!!!), those feelings have been replaced with feelings of complete and utter joy and excitement.

I can't wait to show America the lessons that Asia has taught me. Seriously. I'm like a preschooler running home to my mom to show her my ingenious finger painting. And while the familiar will, in fact, feel unfamiliar after such a long absence (and this will be strange at first), I also know that the familiar contains the long overdue TLC that I desperately need!!

I will miss Asia while I'm gone, but I sure am hoping for a white Christmas!!

Catch ya on the flip side (quite literally)!

Packaging

I wrote these paragraphs at the bottom of my "More Things" post, but I think they fit better as their own post....

To tell the truth, I'm a little nervous about my trip home. I mean, it's going to be amazing and wonderful and incredible and exactly what I need, but I remember feeling weird last Christmas when I came back after only five months. I felt homesick for Asia, and I felt like I had been gone for such a long time. And while this year I feel as though I'm one of those crazy Everest climbers who somehow manages to summit sans toes and weighing about 95 exhausted pounds as I finish the climb of this year, I also know that what used to be familiar is going to be completely unfamiliar. And even though I have moments of extreme and consuming loneliness here, I've gotten used to it all the same, and it may be a bit of a shock and adjustment having lots and lots of people around me. It's like presenting a starving person with an all-you-can-eat buffet. In those situations people will literally eat themselves to death. And, um, I know I'm not going to DIE from being home and surrounded by loved ones (quite the opposite!). But I think it will be an adjustment. And in that time I will also have to get used to the idea of living back in the U.S. again. Things do get hard here, I get tired of eating dinner by myself every night, and I feel like I can't appreciate my incredible surroundings because of my various physical laments, but it's still home. And even through my situationally-induced mixed feelings I've puzzled out a deep and devoted love for this place.

I'm not the same Brooke I was when I got on the plane to return to Thailand in the early, frost-covered, sparkling days of January, 2008. And, sure, a lot of these lessons did not come in the beautiful, exotic packaging that I had hoped they would. But they came, nonetheless.

More Things....

I head back to the U.S. in less than a week (!), and I will be there for three weeks. I can't WAIT.

Whatever crazy virus I had that attacked my stomach is now resting comfortably in my upper respiratory tract. Great. I just need to get home and get some good ol' fashioned TLC.

The next week is going to be an insane whirlwind. I have a gazillion things due, plus parent-teacher conferences and report cards, plus pretty much all of my Christmas shopping to accomplish, as I've been too sick or injured to do any of it. And so, please pardon my absence from Blogland as I prepare for my journey home.

Here is a list of things that I have not done in a year, and which I plan on doing next week (YAY!!):

In all of 2008 (minus a week or two), I have NOT....

*Set foot in the U.S. (although I guess technically that trip to the Embassy was setting foot on U.S. soil....)

*Seen my family (save for my sister, who came out for a brief visit in October!!)

*Watched a T.V. show (yes, I've watched DVDs of T.V. shows, and about a gazillion videos of the presidential debates and conventions on cnn.com. However, I have not watched an actual, live T.V. show in a year)

*Eaten a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

*Walked into a store and taken it for granted that the person behind the counter would be able to understand what I was saying

*Driven a car

*Read an American newspaper (actual PAPER, not my daily online browsings....)

*Eaten Taco Bell (now, I've gone years without eating Taco Bell before, but somehow knowing that I couldn't have Taco Bell even if I wanted it makes it seem all the more alluring....)

*Taken a proper bath in an actual tub (I can't WAIT to do that....)

*Worn a jacket

*Contributed in any way to the U.S. GDP (unless you count iTunes)

*Used my U.S. cell phone

*Listened to the radio

*Heard a Minnesota accent

*Had any idea who/what any of the current "hot" actors/actresses/T.V. shows/bands/musicians are

*Taken a drink right out of the tap

*Gone to an ATM, put in my PIN, and had it spit out U.S. dollars

Things that are awesome....

Alrighty. I've gotta counterbalance to utter negativity of that last post. I am feeling much better, thank you very much, and so today is a great day to make a list of things that are AWESOME!!

*I didn't throw up today!!

*The water filler upper thingy in the lobby of my condo. It provides a cheap and easy means of acquiring drinkable water AND recycling the plethora of plastic bottles that Bangkok churns out and swallows each day

*White tea

*Motorcycle taxis

*Learning Thai using the Rosetta Stone that Peter purchased for me, oh, over a year ago. I no longer have time to go to classes, but this is an excellent alternative!

*Sizzling morning glory

*Thai massage

*The paper in my journal is made out of elephant dung. Awesome.

*Since living in Asia I've been to: Thailand (obvs), Laos, Burma, Vietnam, Cambodia (three times!!), Malaysia (twice!!), Singapore, and Bali

*Thai orchids

*Johnson's "Melt Away Stress Daily Calming Lotion"

*Pearls

*Shell necklaces

*Flowy skirts

*Silk photo albums

*Hot chocolate from the Duc de Praslin Chocolate Shop

*Reading memoirs

*My physical therapist!! When she found out that I had had the stomach flu four days ago she immediately booked an appointment for me with another doctor. She said that she thought I had missed my appointments during the last few days because I was busy. When I told her it was because I was sick, she said that she was going to call me from now on to make sure that I am okay if I miss another appointment. On a separate day she also told me that I should write a book.

*The Superhuman Relationship that is Peter's and mine. We've been on opposite sides of the world for a year and a half (a YEAR AND A HALF!!) and are still goin' strong with no signs of stopping.

*Post cards

*Handmade paper

*Taking pictures

*Fairy lights

*ASIA!!!!!

*The fact that I am going to be home in a little over a week :)

What's awesome in your world??

Pukey McPukerson....

I was up all night with a godawful stomach flu. Apparently it's going around, as when I called to cancel my physical therapy appointment today they said that I was the fourth person to cancel on account of the stomach flu.

Why am I blogging about my stomach flu?? Because I want it documented that 2008 has been the biggest bitch-slap of a year ever. EVER. It started with vomit, and it's ending with vomit. And if I can survive this year, then I deserve a medal and a ginger ale.

There's not a whole lot worse than being in a foreign country all by yourself with the stomach flu. Well, maybe being on the other side of the world from your boyfriend when his parents died, or losing a good friend, or a classmate, or injuring a foot, or having to deal with heaping piles of some peoples' bullshit.

2008, you are no friend of mine. I just want to come home. I think now is the time that I need to look through photo albums and re-read old journals to remind myself of JUST HOW LUCKY I AM to be living here, having all of the amazing experiences that I am having, and learning the lessons I never, ever would have learned otherwise.

I am lucky. I am blessed. I am a total badass.

It just doesn't feel like it today.

The Gas Taxi

At the end of my very first physical therapy appointment (for an injury I sustained while attempting an advanced dismount from an elephant’s hind leg), I hobbled through the sliding glass doors and into a taxi. I had to go to the Emporium—a very large and very posh shopping mall—to pick up a few supplies for school the next day. As the taxi started winding its way down the narrow, congested streets, weaving around motorcycles and motorized street vendor carts, I pulled out my bandage and started wrapping my foot in the slow, patient figure eights that the doctor had shown me.

When we got to Sukhumvit Road, the traffic thickened and oozed slowly, and the intersections were filled with the brazen puzzle pieces of cars squeezing themselves together, attempting to insert themselves into the cluttered, fatty artery of road with the hopes of somehow inching forward in spite of the impossibly long and ruthless stare of the red light.

This being Thailand, the traffic is silent. Noticeably absent are the jarring exhalations of horns, the spurts of profanity, and the crunch of impatient fender benders. The traffic is constant and organic. It is a living, breathing entity in this city. It is unavoidable, and requires complete surrender. It will have you. It will ensnare you and absorb you like oxygen particles, like nutrients.

And I was happily sitting in the back of the taxi, elevating my wrapped and swollen foot, watching the static faces of the drivers and passengers in the cars next to me. Not a flicker of frustration. Not a nervous stroking of a chin, or biting of nails, or fidgeting with the radio. Nothing. My taxi driver stared straight ahead, occasionally stretching and yawning, as we slithered our way into minuscule spaces and impossible angles.

After an hour of inching and stopping, inching and stopping, inching and stopping, we were finally half a block away from my destination. My driver gestured to the looming, luminous building up ahead, and pantomimed walking with his index and middle fingers, pleading with his eyes as his fingers took small steps along the dashboard.

Walking would mean having to endure the dangers of the Bangkok sidewalks. It would mean enduring the holes and puddles and grates and stray dogs and beggars and unreasonably high curbs. It would mean having to take staccato steps to avoid colliding with the wide varieties of metallic vehicles that command the streets here. It would mean negating the progress of my physical therapy session with a few achy, treacherous steps. I pointed to my elevated foot, smiled, and shook my head. My taxi driver erupted in laughter. “Okay, okay,” he said.

A few minutes later a godawful smell filled the taxi. Now, Bangkok is a city of many unsavory smells. There is the smell of festering garbage sitting in casual, open piles on the curb while the humidity provides a catalyst for the putrid decomposition. There is the smell of all different varieties of exhaust. There is the smell of meat cooking on charcoal grills or over open an open flame, right next to the pile of festering garbage. And every once in awhile, one or more of these smells will seep in through the aircon vents as the taxi shudders in traffic. This was not one of those times.

The smell of my driver’s gas was so robust as it ballooned to fill the entire interior of the taxi that I could TASTE it in the back of my throat. What in holy hell had this man been eating? Maybe some egg? Some basil? Definitely some fish or squid or shrimp. DEAR GOD, I thought, I am going to asphyxiate and die right here in this taxi. My obituary will read that I was gassed to death while I was on my way to pick up some mosaic tiles for a project with my preschoolers who are now so incredibly sad because they no longer have a teacher.

This being Thailand, I knew that I couldn’t roll down the window to let in some fresh (albeit highly polluted) air. The damage to the driver’s “face” and dignity would just be too much for my conscience to bear (though he clearly hadn’t thought about the damage to my olfactories when he unleashed his noisome fumes). Thirty seconds went by. Forty. Fifty. One minute. We hadn’t moved one inch.

“Y’know, on second thought,” I said with a strange voice, as my throat was multitasking in its attempt to allow me to speak while also suppressing my gag reflex, “I think I’ll go ahead and walk from here.”