Friday, November 7, 2008

Under the Harvest Moon


Sitting by the beach under the presence of a harvest moon,
The stars caught in a thin net of clouds.
I listen to the sweet song of the waves—a prayer, a chant.
I watch the water foam as it kisses the shore—a brilliant flash of white
And, quickly as it appears it is no more,
Replaced a split second later by a new generation of waves.
So must our lives seem to the gods: brief and easily replaceable.
But for that one brief second we explode and share in the majesty of existence
As real as the stars and the moon.

I am Still Happy

Happy camper. 22 months ago.

Where do I begin?

It’s been about 6 months since my last posting and I’ve had so many experiences that it would be impossible to catch up. I’ve been on two trips outside of Thailand, several trips within, met new people, read new books, been hospitalized with dengue, had both an mri and ct scan to look at my sinuses, had visitors from home, squashed at least 60 cockroaches that have run out of my bathroom drain and said goodbye to my dearest uncle. I even voted for a new president!

Hail to the Chief!


All these experiences (and there have been so many more) have their own stories and I hope to eventually share a couple. But for now I’ll share this:


I am still happy.


I’ve been in Thailand 22 months and while there have been times when I’ve felt that I’ve been here too long (22 months too long at times) it has been a great experience overall—one I know I will always look back on with fondness. I’ve learned so much about myself (not all good things) and I’ve stretched myself in ways I never would have thought possible. I have never regretted my decision to do what I am doing but I’ve certainly had little regrets over the course of my time here—not writing more being one of them. I do take heart however in knowing that though I did not get to write about my time here as much as I would have wanted, I did make sure to savor every experience and squeeze as much from them as I possibly could


In his beautiful essay, The Eloquent Sounds of Silence, Pico Iyer writes, “silence is only as worthy as what we can bring back from it.” What do I have to offer after 6 months of silence? Well, I am not necessarily more mature nor am I significantly wiser now than I was 6 months ago (countless hours spent on fantasy football might in fact have made the opposite true). I’ve also found that I have lost all ability of writing poetry and while I am still charming as ever, my 22 months in a Thai village have weakened my English skills to a disturbing degree (and its hard to be charming and witty when the words don’t flow quite easily). Hmmm…what do I have to offer? Not much it seems.


But I am still happy.


If, through the craziness that is known as Peace Corps life and through the pain of losing one so dear and the uncertainty of what to do after my time here, I’ve managed to remain happy—not just the “I’m okay” kind of happy but the “my cup is filled and I’m excited about life and I still laugh from my stomach” kind of happy…I must be doing something right. And this isn’t such a bad thing to offer. I know the last 4 months of my service will be filled with experiences—good and not so good; exhilarating and mundane. I will have moments that will make me want to stay longer and moments that will make me excited to pack my bags and leave. Through all these different experiences I know my faculty to appreciate and find blessings will be as strong as ever.


And I will continue to be happy.


Now if could only consistently write about it.




Still "laugh from the stomach" happy