Hello! I am in Santa Barabara ! It is good to be home !
I came into Los Angeles and after seeing a good friend I came back to Santa Barbara via the Airbus.
While I am jet lagged, it is actually not so bad because I have been sleeping at night, so now its just finding energy. I would love to go exercising with someone. Anyone up for a jog or bike ride?
I hope you all are well.
Let's hang out, but pLEASE don't ask me to tell you all about it. I want to hear about your year, hang out with you and relearn being friends as we all have new experiences and changes. I want to share slowly, and hope to hear about what you have been up to as well.
Jeremy
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Poverty Sucks
After living in a developing country, I can truly say poverty sucks.
During one's first experience with poverty (mine was Mexico house building trips) poverty may be romanticized. "They are so poor, but they are so happy," Is a characteristic line of this sentiment. Bull.
Maybe the people have greater perserverance, maybe they are more grateful, but exisiting in insecurity is poor.
Imagine:
Having to stand in a bus to ride to work every day, because 1. There are not enough buses and 2. Private vehicles are beyond your reach.
Having to carry with you a hankie, which you cover your face with as you walk by the raw sewage passing right by the povement.
An adult working for 3-4 dollars a day, while the cost of food for that day is approximately 2 dollars per person. How to support the children? How to prepare them for school?
Insecurity provides these questions.
What to do if you get hurt and cannot afford decent care?
During one's first experience with poverty (mine was Mexico house building trips) poverty may be romanticized. "They are so poor, but they are so happy," Is a characteristic line of this sentiment. Bull.
Maybe the people have greater perserverance, maybe they are more grateful, but exisiting in insecurity is poor.
Imagine:
Having to stand in a bus to ride to work every day, because 1. There are not enough buses and 2. Private vehicles are beyond your reach.
Having to carry with you a hankie, which you cover your face with as you walk by the raw sewage passing right by the povement.
An adult working for 3-4 dollars a day, while the cost of food for that day is approximately 2 dollars per person. How to support the children? How to prepare them for school?
Insecurity provides these questions.
What to do if you get hurt and cannot afford decent care?
Finding the "I" in "Me"
This morning as I rode with the Bishop's staff to the airport, "I " was thinking what "I" was most excited about. How did I feel?
After seven months in a different culture, expressing myself through different mechanisms and finding myself in different situations that I have been used to, it was difficult to answer what seems like such an easy question, "How do I feel?"
Another way of looking at it is, I have had seven months of adding a different dimension to my life, character and self, and so how am I?
I am excited to see my friends, my support group, and my family.
That is what I am most excited about.
After seven months in a different culture, expressing myself through different mechanisms and finding myself in different situations that I have been used to, it was difficult to answer what seems like such an easy question, "How do I feel?"
Another way of looking at it is, I have had seven months of adding a different dimension to my life, character and self, and so how am I?
I am excited to see my friends, my support group, and my family.
That is what I am most excited about.
I'm Coming Home !!!
Greetings from Taipei, Taiwan !
I am on the return trip !
The term in Kurunegala which I volunteered for, "6-7 months" has finished, with me accomplishing seven months and 5 days.
I arrived at Katunayake Airport at about 3 AM, after going through several police and military check points.
After a flight to Malaysia I was reintroduced to the West, as Coffee Bean was prominently featured in the Kuala Lumpur Airport (Ryan Reiner, I miss you buddy !).
Things I am excited about:
1. Seeing my friends.
2. Attending my family and friend's big event, namely, my sister's wedding and related excitement.
I am arriving at LAX at 7:30 TONIGHT FRIDAY NIGHT!!!
I am excited. I will be picked up by a good friend and catch up with some intentional conversation and then be back on my way to Santa Barbara.
I am excited about spending time with the people I care very deeply about.
I am on the return trip !
The term in Kurunegala which I volunteered for, "6-7 months" has finished, with me accomplishing seven months and 5 days.
I arrived at Katunayake Airport at about 3 AM, after going through several police and military check points.
After a flight to Malaysia I was reintroduced to the West, as Coffee Bean was prominently featured in the Kuala Lumpur Airport (Ryan Reiner, I miss you buddy !).
Things I am excited about:
1. Seeing my friends.
2. Attending my family and friend's big event, namely, my sister's wedding and related excitement.
I am arriving at LAX at 7:30 TONIGHT FRIDAY NIGHT!!!
I am excited. I will be picked up by a good friend and catch up with some intentional conversation and then be back on my way to Santa Barbara.
I am excited about spending time with the people I care very deeply about.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Just a Walk Around the Block
Some not so unusual events of the last two weeks.
I was sitting listening to the Bishop and a 3 1/2 foot long snake came through the window into the office. It went behind a bookshelf, and we spent the next half hour trying to coax it out with a cloth dipped in kersone. Finally we gave up and went back to work.
As I was walking to work the other day I walked by a man ride a motorcycle, which was going slow and evidently having trouble. I figured he might be needing assistance to push it to the service pump nearby, so I looked back to see him stick his nose into the gas tank to see if there was any left. He got back on it, and I saw him continue slowly along the road.
We pumped gas the other day. A full tank in a Beamer that the secretary will have to sell to fund his son's wedding and daughter's coming child. With gas at $1.10 a liter, he paid 7,453 rupees to fill the tank. That is easily a week's work.
I went to a ream of paper for the copy machine. 500 sheets for $5. The owner was not in the book shop at first, but when he saw me inspecting the open door and the shop with the lights off, he came from where he was talking to friends nearby, turned the lights on and welcomed me, in English. When I told him what I wanted, he said alright, one moment, told me the price, left for another shop and came back with the ream.
I tried to pay him with a twenty, which I knew was too much but it was all I had. He asked if I had anything smaller, the cash register was not working recently he said. Having already realized the difficulty, I acknowledged my mistake, "It's early now isn't it. No problem." I went to the service station across the street and got change from one of the pump attendants, came back and completed the purchase.
Ream purchased.
I walked away, and then came back, realizing I had forgotten the receipt and needed it for reimbursement. I asked for the receipt, and made it clear I wasn't in need of anything great. I was pleased to have the written receipt, which was made from the receipt book.
I was sitting listening to the Bishop and a 3 1/2 foot long snake came through the window into the office. It went behind a bookshelf, and we spent the next half hour trying to coax it out with a cloth dipped in kersone. Finally we gave up and went back to work.
As I was walking to work the other day I walked by a man ride a motorcycle, which was going slow and evidently having trouble. I figured he might be needing assistance to push it to the service pump nearby, so I looked back to see him stick his nose into the gas tank to see if there was any left. He got back on it, and I saw him continue slowly along the road.
We pumped gas the other day. A full tank in a Beamer that the secretary will have to sell to fund his son's wedding and daughter's coming child. With gas at $1.10 a liter, he paid 7,453 rupees to fill the tank. That is easily a week's work.
I went to a ream of paper for the copy machine. 500 sheets for $5. The owner was not in the book shop at first, but when he saw me inspecting the open door and the shop with the lights off, he came from where he was talking to friends nearby, turned the lights on and welcomed me, in English. When I told him what I wanted, he said alright, one moment, told me the price, left for another shop and came back with the ream.
I tried to pay him with a twenty, which I knew was too much but it was all I had. He asked if I had anything smaller, the cash register was not working recently he said. Having already realized the difficulty, I acknowledged my mistake, "It's early now isn't it. No problem." I went to the service station across the street and got change from one of the pump attendants, came back and completed the purchase.
Ream purchased.
I walked away, and then came back, realizing I had forgotten the receipt and needed it for reimbursement. I asked for the receipt, and made it clear I wasn't in need of anything great. I was pleased to have the written receipt, which was made from the receipt book.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Today... I got a haircut
Today I got a haircut. As I came to work I felt a little uneasy. The malaria prevention medication advises to be taken on an empty stomach, with lots of water. However, even with a lot of water, the lack of food makes it uneasy. So I came to work, and then I got ready for breakfast. I skipped it this morning, and once I checked in [and checked the day's work] I went to go for a snack. After a doughnut and a glass of orange juice from Perera and Sons I stopped for a haircut.
Beautiful haircut.
As I approached the shop the cashier, sitting next door, motioned to his friend to come give me a haircut. I had come early and there was no wait. I sat down, and a starched white linen was wrapped around my shoulders, snug carefully with my neck. I motioned how I would like the haircut, 3 on the sides, top like this, and he knew, he had cut my hair before.
He took out about eight brushes looking for the right one.
He found it, and took out the shaver. Smoothly, carefully he cuts the hair, carefully using scissors on the top. Always he is examining it from different angles, making sure not a single lock, nay hair is out of place.
After about 20 minutes of careful styling, I am beaming all the time. It is good to know the work is appreciated, and I try to show it. He has cut my hair before, and takes a new razor blade out of the paper wrapper and places it in the holder to cut the specks of hair beneath and up to the sideburns, and around the ears. Not a speck is missed.
Finally, baby powder is placed on a towel and used to take off the cut hair. The white cloth is taken off, and I stand. I am somewhat embarrassed as there is some hair clinging to my trousers. The barber catches sight of it, and moves his towel from swishing the loose hair off the back of my shirt to that on my trousers. I try to wipe it off hurriedly, so much to do seems embarrassing.
I sit in the empty plastic chair as a friend takes the next customer into a barber chair that is waiting.
I wait for the price from the cashier, a well dressed fellow with a tie, white short sleeve shirt with collar, and a build that reminds me of my grandpa, who was a vice president of a company.
The barber who just cut my hair tells him the price, and it is repeated to me. 70 rupees. So I paid the equivelant of 67 US cents for the best haircut of my life.
I tipped him 20 rupees more.
Beautiful haircut.
As I approached the shop the cashier, sitting next door, motioned to his friend to come give me a haircut. I had come early and there was no wait. I sat down, and a starched white linen was wrapped around my shoulders, snug carefully with my neck. I motioned how I would like the haircut, 3 on the sides, top like this, and he knew, he had cut my hair before.
He took out about eight brushes looking for the right one.
He found it, and took out the shaver. Smoothly, carefully he cuts the hair, carefully using scissors on the top. Always he is examining it from different angles, making sure not a single lock, nay hair is out of place.
After about 20 minutes of careful styling, I am beaming all the time. It is good to know the work is appreciated, and I try to show it. He has cut my hair before, and takes a new razor blade out of the paper wrapper and places it in the holder to cut the specks of hair beneath and up to the sideburns, and around the ears. Not a speck is missed.
Finally, baby powder is placed on a towel and used to take off the cut hair. The white cloth is taken off, and I stand. I am somewhat embarrassed as there is some hair clinging to my trousers. The barber catches sight of it, and moves his towel from swishing the loose hair off the back of my shirt to that on my trousers. I try to wipe it off hurriedly, so much to do seems embarrassing.
I sit in the empty plastic chair as a friend takes the next customer into a barber chair that is waiting.
I wait for the price from the cashier, a well dressed fellow with a tie, white short sleeve shirt with collar, and a build that reminds me of my grandpa, who was a vice president of a company.
The barber who just cut my hair tells him the price, and it is repeated to me. 70 rupees. So I paid the equivelant of 67 US cents for the best haircut of my life.
I tipped him 20 rupees more.
Today
Today. Today is the moment. A moment in time. Whether we are monochronic or polychronic, it is good to be in the moment. To sit and see, how the world appears at this very moment. An artist uses his canvas to portray reality. An anthropologist takes notes; I just sit and look at the world around me.
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