15 November, 2006

I found so much truth in the following blog, I found myself substituting out the specific details that make Tbilisi and Saigon their own and being wowed at the parallel experiences of moving to a brand new old city. Just for my own enjoyment, and certainly not to steal from the writer, here is my edited version tailor made to suit our life.

When we first got here, everything was very new, and very weird, and very fresh, and I felt like I was bursting at the seams to write about all the strange things I encountered. As I'm sure usually happens, we've begun to acclimate to our surroundings a bit, and there is less and less that I find specifically worth writing about... I'm not sure that makes sense.

On the one hand, our living situation is very romantic, and very much what you might expect from
[a UU drama teacher and a Waldorf kid turned-amateur-ethnomusicologist/law student] living together in [South East Asia]... the buildings are very turn-of-the-century, and partly run-down.. one of us walks to the corner most mornings for [steaming bowls of rice and fish parts] to eat with our [giant cups of sugared iced coffee]... crazy [old ladies] dressed in [a technicolored nylon rainbow] squat on every street corner, [hawking sandwiches and fruit]. There's even a [row of Japanese specialty shops] across the street, and so we walk out of our little apartment building to the sounds of [bus loads of picture-snapping tourists].

On the other hand, living is living: 90% daily drudge. We run out of [gummy fruit snacks]. We watch [the latest episode of LOST just hours after it debuts in the States, courtesy of Limewire]. The [pipes leak and there are hoardes of cockroaches]. I'm tired from staying up late last night, and I have to [catch the bus and go tutor], and there's [these] guy[s] loudly [building a sky scraper in the middle of the mud pit outside]. In these moments, it doesn't feel any different than living in Marshfield, or Burlington, or Oxford, or Columbus, [or Swannanoa, or Charlotte, or Canton] or anywhere else.

But then you look out the window, and see a [palm tree swaying in the sunshine] and think oh, yeah. That's why I'm here.

1 comment:

Chris Michel said...

oh, you're so sweet!

so we have to come visit (and vice versa) to regain some of that initial wonder.

..either that, or look out our respective windows more often.

I'm on Flickr a lot.

Jessica K.. Get yours at bighugelabs.com/flickr