Yeah, I’m still listening to Korean music. Love this song though…but the dancing in the video?. Um. Well.
Does Sung Hoon have eyes? Or are those glasses covering up bottomless wells of luv? Anybody know?
Okay, so moving on…
So I’ve come to a strange point in my expatriation journey, and that is the realization that England is not my last country after all. When I moved here in 2006, it was with the the tacit internal understanding that I was not going to move again. Old Blighty was going to be my home, I would work towards settling here, and here I would stay. I’m a nester, not a nomad–or so I’d like to think.
6 years on, I’m starting to think about it very differently. It’s a bittersweet process. I’ve realized that my destiny is not irrevocably linked to England no matter how much I might love the place at times. I’ve realized that there are new and exciting places out there, and that I have the capability and the opportunity to go there and live life just as fully as I have in the US and the UK.
But underneath all of that? I’m thinking about the things I’ll be glad to leave behind.
Look, I’m not trying to be the harbinger of doom…there are just things about England that I really dislike. There’s a few I love as well. Without further ado, here are some of those things.
Six random Monday things:
1) A long time ago I wrote a song, the chorus of which included the line “If no man is an island, why is everybody else in a boat?” It’s not the best song I’ve ever written, but is IS one of the best lines. Not to toot my own horn(or row my own boat?) but that’s exactly the flaw in Western mainstream cultures when it comes to the buzzed about “community”. Even if you decide to connect to others and live in an intentional, community-oriented way, the truth remains that most other people are in their own boats, forming their own islands, and don’t really want to be a part of a community in an active sense. It’s just not how we’re raised. If a pre-existing community comes along and serves needs, fine. If being in a community requires conscious behavioural change and understanding–back to the boats we go.
More after the jump….
So…I’ve gotten my thoughts on the “riots” off of my chest. We now return to our temporarily scheduled travelogue...with Warsaw, Poland.
Eating dried mango in a sleeper car. Nuclear freaking heat. The Palace of Culture and Science. The synagogue. A lovely couple from Lyon. Being grouchy from traveling badly. The mall.
A Polish Chicagoan. Fizzy water. 5-star Polish restaurant for 228 zlotys. Lovely, happy chef. Chopin. More amber. A green Polish pedicure.
A Korean-Japanese gentleman named Im. Chinese Hungarians on the train platform. Rude train lady. Syrenas. Surprising amounts of diversity. Italian food everywhere. Strong coffee. Bad pizza. Homesick.
Kind people helping with the language. White sleeper car sheets(again!). Bouncing. Changing clothes in the top bunk while a friend stands guard. Dead phone. Strange stares. Lovely people. Grim city. Good night!
Today’s musical connection for the title was quite hard to come by…the first thing that came to mind was David Bowie’s” Warszawa”:
…which doesn’t exactly have the most accessible lyrics. So, I went with Joy Division’s “Warsaw” instead. It may or may not have anything to do with Warsaw, but it does have lyrics…
So let’s get the song of the day out of the way first. Not all that related to today’s posting(or is it?), but the chorus lyric has always gotten to me a little bit, and it’s the song that’s playing right now.
So, to briefly recap the last post…my crisis of faith came to a slimy little head a few years ago. I was working–volunteering, really–for a Christian charity, and the “team” that I was working for began to treat me quite shittily, only with a shiny religious veneer, so it all seemed OK. Some bad things happened that mattered enormously to me, but very little to anyone else. I blamed myself, mostly, and after leaving and having even worse things happen, I apparently developed a hateful bitter little core which showed up this week when I said, without thinking, that I hated someone.
I’ve never said that I’ve hated someone. Ideologies, things and The Man all catch it in the neck from me, but generally speaking, I don’t even dislike people, let alone hate.
This worries me, as does the fact that God doesn’t really seem to care very much about all of this and has pretty much left me to my own devices. And all of this has led friends, one in particular, to ask me just how and why it is that I am still a Christian after all of this?
Here’s why, after the jump…
Yeah, so it’s official. I am a terrible person(personne/사람). A terrible person who is hanging on to my attempts to become trilingual because that may be all that redeems me. Excuse the vocabulary practice, then, please..
So what happened was this. I was speaking to someone on the subject of another person, who happened to be in the first person’s house(maison/집). First Person said, “Oh, Other Person is here…didn’t you two have an um, thing?”
I didn’t even think about my response. It just fell out of my mouth. “Yep, I hate her.”
What? What! WHAT!? “I hate her”? I hate her? WTF! I’m me. I don’t hate anybody, except for maybe The Man, and I don’t really even hate him…I just want him to go down because I stuck it to him.
Needless to say, me saying that I hated anything, let alone another human being, really disturbed me. I don’t do hate. I don’t even do nasty. I am the original annoying lily-throwingpacifist. I have literally let someone hit me with small noxious projectiles rather than fight back because I believe just that much in passive resistance(or at least, I used to). So how is it, that all of a sudden, I just casually hate folks? And mean it, too?
Well, if you ask some folks, it’s Jesus’ fault. And that brings me, however indirectly, to the topic of today’s post.
The story so far, after the jump…
So a few quickies…
–First, a retraction/correction of sorts concerning this post. Two days ago, I was in nearly the exact same situation, and the lady I gave my seat up to not only said a hearty and heartfelt thank you, she started a conversation with me afterwards. So I’m willing to chalk the whole “ungrateful heffa” thing up to personality differences. Geez, how do sociologists and anthropologists and psychologists do it?
More rambles after the jump…
I feel really ill. It’s raining. There was dirt on the shower floor this morning, and white paint(?) all over the back of the bathroom door. One of my housemates had some sort of porridge for breakfast this morning that involved most of our pots, bowls, and countertops, and very little washing up. (I hate porridge!) The radio is playing the same Pussycat Dolls song again. Some random Scottish guy is killing sea eagles. Meanwhile, some random Pakistani guy keeps feeding the pigeons on this street and they’re responding to his generosity by ungratefully splattering every square inch of the sidewalk with creamy white pigeon poo. There’s a spider the size of a terrier posted at the front door like some sort of bug bouncer. There are goofy commercialistic Christmas decorations up everywhere in town already. And did I mention it’s raining, and I’m ill?
Holy schnikeys, do you see the size of the cobwebs over by the Barack Obama post? I really need to pay attention to this place more often…
I am having a ridiculously chilled night. It’s been a long, busy day. Everyone else in the house is away. Now I’m home for the night and indulging in the following embarrassing things;
1)An extremely non-nutritious dinner and
2)A Michael Jackson music video marathon.