Some things are up to us and some are not up to us . . .

So begins The Handbook by Epictetus. This short piece is a study in stoicism: a guide that offers guideposts on how to be Master of the Self. In my very simple words, it talks about choosing your attitude and knowing the difference between what we can control, what we can't control. It encourages us to"work" on what we can control and not getting bogged down in external "things" that are not up to us. I have spent the past week discussing this text in my freshman seminar class. My students, who daily range from disengaged, to mildly entertained, to active learners, completely got into this book.

That is to say, some loved it, and many hated it.

If I'm a stoic, I'm a robot! You can't live like that! That's not living!

We talked about passion, the life unexamined, being philosophers, and debated if we should bother taking action when things are "out of our control." There still isn't buy-in from many of the students, and I am thankful that they question the text.

What I am more thankful for is their willingness to consider this book in today's reality. Epictetus argues that others' opinions are not up to us. My students think we influence others' opinions a great deal. They also agreed that in the "Big Picture" what does it matter?

What does it matter what cell phone they have, or what car they drive? It doesn't, probably. But, does it matter what they major in or what kind of job they have? Different "Big Picture," right?

Is it the label, the status, or the dollars that matter? My students wrestle with these questions as they try to determine their path at the university. Maybe for some those three things matter. But even though my group of 18-19 year-old students are fairly conventional, they are also pretty idealistic and very big on being "true" to themselves.

This is the bigger, daily struggle. Whether they choose to go about it as a stoic or a cynic, they go about it everyday. The thing I want them to understand, they'll keep going at it everyday. Deciding a major, getting a job, buying a house, all small decisions with many opportunities for change and growth. I want them to understand that most of the time, plenty is up to us like location, like jobs, like friends. Other "things" might shift when we make "choices." But we can also change our definitions and our expectations, can't we?

IN BANGKOK: Homeless, Jobless, Clueless

"Stand or sit. Do not wobble." -zen admonition
"I don't know Marty, what do you want to do?"* -from the motion picture, 'Marty'
Homeless, jobless clueless.... Sounds bleak, but the actual situation is rather liberating. Multiple options exist to resolve the first two conditions, and the cluelessness is just a result of being overwhelmed by so many options.
But first, since it feels like so much has happened, endulge me a brief summary of the journey from my last blog to this one.
I left Glacier National Park on the last day of September, and among my sojourns were:
The Appalachian Trail. This was part of a stretch I did 20 years ago, so there was an air of deja vu-ness to my hike. Key differences were that this time I hiked for two weeks instead of a month, and that it was October instead of November. So I was graced to be wandering through New England during the peak of its autumn foilage (pre and post-peak aren't anything to scoff at either). There were so many leaves, both in the trees and on the ground, that the effect was like moving through an organic kaleidoscope. After a rain however, the effect was closer to walking on thousands of brightly colored banana peels. It is noteworthy that hi-tech has infiltrated the A.T., at least as seen from my limited exposure. Most of the thru-hikers stay in touch with the outside world (and even with other hikers!) via the internet, and half of the ones I met carried cell phones. Convenient, certainly, but it saddened me a little.
The Berkshires, Western Massachusetts. My reasons for heading East had been twofold. The Fall colors were one, and visiting friends was another. Stockbridge, once home to both Norman Rockwell and Alice's Restaurant, is one of my old stompin' grounds. I once shared a life with a woman there, and the A.T. wasn't my only 20-year anniversary.
Portland, Oregon. This is a great town, no question. Powell's Bookstore alone would rank it in my top ten American cities. But what draws me here are three friends. Two of them I've known for almost 28 years. Their 14-year-old daughter I've known all her life. Hmmm....so who have I known longer, parents or child?
Southern California. I admit, this doesn't make my top ten cities list. But the reasons I return to my birthplace aren't geographical. This is where my family is, and it is always worth the trip home.
Mendocino County, Northern California. This locale is more my style. Towering redwoods, meandering rivers, and a stunning coastline.I've lived out a couple of different lifetimes here, both deeply lodged in my heart. On this trip I visited a longtime friend from college, whose path has intersected with mine in a variety of places and spaces over the years. I also used this two-day window as an opportunity to sell my car.
I mention these places not just to chronicle my travels, but because each at different times has been my home. If not the geographical spots themselves, then at least the people that now occupy them. It's been a little jarring to have bounced through these significant worlds of my past in such rapid succession, and now to find myself....
....in Bangkok; homeless, jobless and clueless.
All right, here is the basic outline of my current situation. I have funds for maybe a month and a half of budget travel, with just enough left over to get me where I'm going and keep me fed until the paychecks start coming in.
Which in turn begs the question, where am I going?
The likely gig is to teach English, and in Thailand alone I have a variety of options. There is a college one hour north of Bangkok where I would have 18 teaching hours a week and a supportive work environment. But I'm hesitant about the location. It's too far away from Bangkok to access that city's entertainment, and too close to be in a natural setting.
I could always find work in Bangkok itself. But there's pollution and horrific traffic. But I have friends there. But it's such a huge city. But it's a hugely interesting city. But but but.
Or I could probably find employment in the south, at one of the tourist hotspots like Koh Samui or Phuket.
Then too, I'm not limited to Thailand. Viet Nam appeals to me, and so does China. The former because of its tangled relationship with my Country's history. The latter because of (what I percieve will be) its impact on my Country's future.
Anyway, for the next few weeks I plan to do some wandering in South East Asia. By the time my journey is over, and my money nearly so, I should have a plan ready for implementation.
As I sketch out this draft, reggae music blares from the bar below my room. A ceiling fan half-heartedly pushes the humidity around, and a line of ants make geometric designs on my floor. Yes, I am back in sights, sounds and smells of South East Asia.
I remember a comic strip from a ways back, I think it was 'Bizzarro' or 'The Far Side.' It was the classic picture of a man marooned on an island (single palm tree, tattered clothes, scruffy beard). He was retrieving a bottle floating by, and reading the enclosed message: HELP! I AM STUCK IN A DEAD-END JOB IN A LARGE CITY.
With that in mind, here I am in Bangkok. Traveling (homeless), free (jobless), and open to any great possibility (clueless).
Now that's a framing job that any metaphysical construction worker can be proud of!
*Just to play devil's advocate with that stand-wobble-sit quote: The founder of aikido, when complimented on his unfailing sense of balance, replied (and I paraphrase), "It's not that I am in balance. I am out of balance almost all the time, continually shifting to meet the situation of the moment."
I can relate. And, as some marketing genius of my childhood once told an American generation, "weebles wobble but they don't fall down."

Bangkok Thailand map - Tagzania

New Orleans Habitat for Humanity

We went to New Orleans with Habitat for Humanity the first week of October. We were in Violet, Louisiana, in St. Bernard Parish - or, as they say, Saint Bahnahhhd's. It was an experience unlike any other we've shared over our years of traveling together.

When we left Alaska, it was snowing. When we arrived in Louisiana, it was 95 degrees with 95% humidity. It was a shock to the system.

The first night we stayed at a hotel in the French Quarter. Everything seemed normal - bars open, lots of gift shops and t-shirts, good food on every corner - jambalaya, gumbo, crawfish, the food Louisiana is famous for. We thought maybe they didn't really need our help. Hurricane Katrina had been thirteen months prior, and everything seemed to be getting back to normal. The next day, we had lunch at Margaritaville, shopped in the French Market, and then, feeling like we had a taste of New Orleans, headed to Camp Hope (approximately 15 miles south of the French Quarter in St. Bahnahhd's)(http://www.camphopeonline.com), the volunteer camp we would call home for a week. The drive there really opened our eyes.

Just a few miles outside of the revelry and beads of the French Quarter we found a whole different world. We saw cement slabs with no houses because they just washed away. We saw stairs leading to nothing because the houses are just gone. We saw cars on top of cars on top of someone's roof. We saw a plane that crashed (or washed into) someone's driveway. We saw churches, schools, restaurants just flattened, and movie theaters with signs still announcing the movies from September 2005. We saw stores and restaurants just boarded up and abandoned. Driving through St. Bernard's Parish and the 9th Ward, two of the hardest hit by Hurricane Katrina, made us realize how much they really did need our help, but we still had no idea what we would be in for.

The first night we had a brief orientation and were put into teams. Our team, Black 2, was all women and Begee! (We knew who would be lifting the heavy stuff!) On our team, we had a lawyer from Chicago, two hair stylists from California, a bioarcheologist from Arizona, a nurse from Virginia, a real estate agent from Portland, a golf pro from Toronto, and an Americorps member from Minnesota. That first night, we were all so excited and apprehensive, unsure of what the next day and the week ahead would bring.

Waking up the next day at 6 am was hard (this was supposed to be a vacation!) and eating rubbery eggs, overcooked potatoes, and spongy sausage was even harder. (And the lunch, oh the PB&J's and HooAh bars...) Getting outfitted with our PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) was an adventure - safety goggles, hard hats, breathing masks, boots, and gloves, with some donated old shirts on top (who knew you couldn't wear tank tops to gut houses?). We learned we would be gutting houses primarily, even though we weren't sure what that meant. Still, we boarded the bus to our first job site - a house owned by an elderly couple who had lived in it for over fifty years.

Gutting houses means going through houses that haven't been touched since the hurricane - clothes, furniture, food in the fridges, canned goods on the shelves, photo albums, everything the people who lived in the houses owned all strewn about inside. Often the owners were evacuated and still haven't been able to come back. Water got to 12, 16, 20 feet in these places, and now they're covered with mud, muck, mold, sludge, and all sorts of other disgusting things - including cockroaches, mice, rats, spiders, and snakes. To go into these houses, we needed to be physically and emotionally prepared. What we could salvage, we did, but most of these people's lives were no longer salvageable.

Our job was to clear the houses of everything - possessions, as well as dry wall, moldings, doors, floors, appliances, furniture, all of it, so that these people could have a fresh start. It was hot, humid, exhausting, hard, emotional, and claustrophobic work, but we did it for the elderly and disabled who couldn't do it for themselves. At our first house, we got to meet the owners, and they were so thankful. The man had Erin remove a small cross for him above the front door that was placed there when the priest blessed their house 50 years ago, two months before his daughter was born. It was the moments like that that made it all seem okay (even getting up at 6 am!).

In addition to gutting, we also got to work in Musician's Village, which is a neighborhood where Habitat is rebuilding houses primarily for jazz musicians who keep the spirit of New Orleans alive. The houses are pink and purple, blue and yellow, green and orange, every color of the rainbow, and as we heard one person say, "It's like a small spot of hope in the midst of all the destruction." We were painting the inside of a house and worked side by side with a new owner, who as per Habitat policy, must commit 350 hours of work on the houses as his down payment.

Our last day in New Orleans, we took a couple tours and met a 71 year-old jazz musician playing saxophone by the Mississippi River. He told us his story of Hurricane Katrina, evacuating with his friend, a potbelly big, and a fat girl in a two seat pickup truck on the road to Branson. It didn't get better than that.

Going to New Orleans with Habitat for Humanity was a worthwhile experience, worlds better than vacationing at the beach (though we still dreamt of the beach everyday!). It was hard work, but we bonded with such amazing people on our team (Black 2!) and learned a lot about ourselves, each other, and the good that really does exist in people. We hope to go back soon, maybe in February when it's not so hot, to help build more houses. The houses that are not gutted by December 31, 2006, will be involuntarily demolished. When we left, there was still a lot of work to be done. If you are reading this now and have even just one day or one week, please consider helping.


Violet, Louisiana map - Tagzania

Must Be the November Coming Out in Me...

I fell in love with fall time on the East Coast years ago. When I was a little kid, I loved to rake leaves with my brother and bury myself in the big colorful mounds. Something about the smell, the crunch of the leaves and how they stuck to my sweater. The way my cheeks got rosy and cold to the touch, while the rest of me was warm and sweaty.

It's amazing, the amount of peace that comes over me this time of year. I feel so unrestricted and vibrant. I spent the entire summer freaking out about the rest of my life. Convincing myself of choices, emotions. It's almost as if my state of mind played off of the humid summer air, stuffy and uncomfortable. I spent too much time wishing I was somewhere else, not making it happen. I resented family for making me feel guilty. But really it wasn't them. It was me feeling lost and frustrated.
I'm in a place right now where I know what I have. I'm thankful. And I'm not dwelling on what I don't have. (That must be the November coming out in me.) I'm setting goals, working towards them, and hopefully I can make things fall into place. Baby steps I know, but it's amazing how we forget to take them.

The job I took two months ago is going well. And by well, I mean I don't hate it, but I rather be traveling, doing good in the world. And while designing residential spaces for really wealthy clients won't win me any humanitarian awards, it is fun. It is what I got my degree in, after all. So, there's that. Not to mention that I get to live vicariously through them, their closets and bathrooms, that are bigger than most of my apartments I've ever lived in.

I'm slowly fitting in the traveling that I had hoped to enjoy while I'm here. I spent this past Halloween weekend in Charlotte, North Carolina. My sister and I made the 4 hour drive to go visit a few friends and check out the city. Completely blown away by it. I knew it was fairly big, but somehow it just wasn't what I had pictured. I think it's around the 20th largest city in the states. Very metropolitan, (and yet still rich with southern accents and sweet tea!) It has an uptown as opposed to a downtown. Great sushi spots, and a really fun 80's bar called The Breakfast Club. And I'm sure that the pretty fall leaves everywhere and perfect sunny weather added to its charm, but it's worth visiting. Lots to see and do there. I really want to go back when I have more time.

So I was listening to an old motivational speaking cd on the drive down to Charlotte. It's been a while since I've listened to one. They used to help me get more centered back when I was in college trying to juggle 16 credits, two jobs, an internship and a boyfriend. It's a wonder anything was able to keep me sane at that time, but it actually helped. I've decided to take a cue from one of the lessons on positive thinking, and try a method of mental cleansing. It's this seven day exercise where you commit yourself to live without one negative thought. Ok, well of course you're going to have them. You just can't voice them or act on them. And as soon as they enter your mind you have to get rid of them immediately. And if you don't, you have to start over from day one. But if you're successful and get through the seventh day, it's said to change your life. It 's supposed to put you in a much better state of mind and dramatically change the way you think and approach challenges. Not that I'm in an unpleasant state of mind or anything, I'm actually pretty content with things right now. It just sounded like a good idea, something worth trying. Think you could do it? Seven days without bitching and moaning. No negative venting in blogs either. Okay, GO!

(Hhhhmm...Perhaps I should wait until *after* I wait tables at the restaurant tonight...)

People in Mexico City

Is it true that Mexico City is one of the most dangerous cities in the world? To be honest, we do not know it. We can say that Mexico City is overcrowded with people and cars, full of smog, and busy, but somehow marvellous. Until now, we did not encounter any problems. In contrary, we met wonderful people over here.


mxblog tagged map by user - Tagzania

First, we stayed with my friend Katheryn, who I (Katja) met through GlobalFreeLoaders. She is a Chemical Engineer, working in Charlotte, US. We had the pleasure to meet her best friend Paco, a movie maker, Paco's girlfriend, an artist, who provided us with delicious self-made sushi, and another artist specializing in erotic paintings. Katheryn's brother Raul gave us a brief insight into Islam and Buddhism. All together we went to the Coyoacan District, which is famous for its weekend market in the Plaza and its colonial style, with lots of cafés, restaurants and bars. We were told not to miss a beer with hot chilli-salsa and salt. Due to Katheryn, we also enjoyed vegan Tacos in the restaurant "100% natural". Mniam!

During our last ride towards Mexico City we heard about "El Chopo", a market known for its alternative scene and music. When we got out in the metro station Buenavista, we felt amazed. Black dressed people with creative, often barock style clothes, men in skirts, interesting make-up, the best haircuts in Central America, "natural" black roses, and an atmosphere that makes you want to dive into this world. It feels so free, so true, so rebellious, and precious.

One day we fulfilled a mission of bringing a CD with Polish music to a Mexican dance group. Our friend Michael from Germany gave them a ride in summer 2005. They liked the music playing in his car, thus Michael promised to send a CD to them. Nine months after we were given the CD, we met Maria, one of the dancers, from the district Cuajimalpa. She was surprised and overwhelmed, and invited us right away to the cultural center of Cuajimalpa, for watching her folk dance group rehearsal. What a pleasure!

We also spend a day with Paco, a writer, and Lilly, a movie translator, two Servas members, who showed us around Mexico's amazingly huge university town, gave us an introduction into its history, and invited us for a lunch into a tiny restaurant in Tlalpan, a town South of Mexico City. We spend a fabulous time, learning not only about the capital, but a lot about South America, especially Argentina.

We moved to Rodrigo and Estrela, a couple from Servas. Mateo, the 9 months old son, loves to play with their dog Mao. Once Mao cought baby's toy and did not want to give it back. This made Mateo laughing in such an infectious way, that we were holding our belly. With Estrela and Rodrigo we spend the nights talking about travel experiences and places to visit. We felt so comfortable in their home, especially enjoyed their great variety of Cereals every morning.

Then we settled down in Oscar's apartment. Oscar is an artist, and calls himself a "crazy painter". He is humorous and a very laid-back. "Life is beautiful", was one of the most mentioned sentences during our stay. Oscar talked a lot, loved to play Domino with us, and got sleepy eyes watching our 400 recently developed photos. We spent our time with various visits to the marvellous historic center of Mexico City, cooked several times for all of us, and met the Russian vice-consul, a client and a friend of Oscar. One day we cleaned the apartment together, which occurred being too good when Oscar stated: "This house is already old. This is why the dirt is gathering everywhere." This made us laughing because we knew the real reason for the households condition...

While being in Mexico City, we were contacted by Brad, currently an English teacher, and a member of CouchSurfing. He is 41 years old, gave up all his belongings, and dedicated his life to travelling and living like a vagabond, or "hardcore traveller", as he calls himself. He works for his travels wherever he goes, and was interested in our experiences, since our travel styles differ. Brad invited us to join the weekly "Charla", a discussion meeting in the "Casa de los amigos" ("house of friends"). We arrived the weekend of its 50 years celebration, thus the discussion round consisted of travellers from all over the world, sharing their experiences with the Casa. The atmosphere was warm, welcoming, and making us feel we should come back one day. Besides sharing our way of travelling, we learned what the Quakers religion is. In future we will not confuse them anymore with "Quaker Oats".

Alvaro, a HospitalityClub member, joined us one evening in Coyoacan district. We were taught about the soon coming event "Dia de los muertos" and its different ways of celebration by indigenous people. We visited the most important place in Coyoacan, which is a take away coffee shop, where always a bunch of people is waiting. The service is fast, the coffee is good, and at the end it is "something that you have to experience", as Alvaro said. The evening we spent sitting in the Plaza and sharing travel experiences. Alvaro once crossed from Armenia to Iran, having a couple of liquor bottles in his backpack. They were supposed to be souvenirs for his friends in Mexico. The Iranian customers did not allow him to bring the alcohol into Islamic country, and all of Alvaro's tries to save the souvenirs failed. One of the officers demonstratively let the bottle fall onto the ground crashing into pieces. Alvaro was speechless, and while we were caught in his story, the electricity in Coyoacan center disappeared. "This does not quite happen in a regular mode", commented Alvaro, and continued feeding us with his stories.

We met all these people in the last 10 days since our arrival to the capital of Mexico. Yet we are not leaving this huge place, and expect to visit even more places, and meet more people in Mexico City and its surroundings. Today will be one of the most exciting days, as we are going to participate in the "Dia de los muertos" ("Day of the Death") celebration!!!