A few days ago my twin brother, Darryl, started his adventure with the Peace Corps in Tanzania, a reality that is still surreal in my mind and, I’m sure, in much of my family members’ as well. The longest D and I have been separated at one time (prior to me coming to Thailand) was nine days. Yes I know, out of 24 years of life, a little more independence should be expected, but we remained attached, and it always seemed right— our band, the classes we took in college (twin brother is the best lab partner for sure), being room mates— you get the point, we’re close.
Saturday night and I’ve decided to stay in for the evening. I am very jealous my brother, cousin, and several friends are currently at Bonnaroo, having an undoubtedly amazing time, seeing the best bands of our time and generations past (Paul McCartney AND Tom Petty are on this year’s lineup).
WIlco will also be appearing at this year’s festival and has, as of the past year and a half, become one of my favorite bands. I have watched their tour schedule during this time and envied the Europeans being graced by Nels Cline’s guitar work and Jeff Tweedy’s vocals and accompaniment on guitar. “Impossible Germany” speaks out against the Fascist state of mind. The first two lines in the chorus of the album’s heav weight track, “Impossible Germany/Unlikely Japan” gives voice to the outsider and the unlikely success a narrow-minded way of being, in culture or individuality, will have.
Check out this cool video from Sam Harris (author, neuroscientist, philosopher) explaining the need to “locate a feeling of fulfillment in the present.” Though the feelings of anxiousness creep up on me occasionally, mindfulness in daily activities takes me away from the what ifs of the future and past and allows me to enjoy the moment I’m in.
Mindfulness is easy to practice, and can even be done every time you eat, for example.
Turn off the radio, television, computer, tablet, and other gadgets or distractions that may take you away from where you are at in this moment in time. Sit down at the table, and look at your meal, becoming aware of the colors and textures as the light reflects off the food and passes through your cornea to your pupils that have already adjusted to accommodate the intensity of light in the room. The light travels through your eyes’ lenses and on to the optic nerve where this mix of visible spectrum, which we have evolved to perceive, passes on to the visual cortex and is processed into what we understand as the image of food in front of us.
Probably the simplest street art I photographed over the weekend, but a nice reminder. It’s easy to get frustrated with life and the daily ups and downs. It’s definitely harder to be content and love the moment we are in. Up for the challenge?
When I first told people I was going to Thailand for eight months, many reacted questioning the quality of the water, infrastructure, whether I knew the language, and some even asked if I was excited to be in the sex capital of the world (a disappointing question considering the work I’m doing to fight westerners appetite for “exotic” sex and eroticism here in the “Land of Smiles”). The stereotypes were all laid out on the table, and the misconceptions about Thailand that are constantly perpetuated by the media were more than evident in the conversations I was having. If you spend your nights on Loi Kroh road or in the Go-Go bars that line many of the streets, or even hit enter one of the massage parlors lined with women cat calling you in for a “massage, massage,” it’s easy to see where people might get the wrong idea about Thailand and its locals. The people here are beautiful in spirit AND appearance and the cities boast beauty that’s only surpassed by the natural world outside of them. Of those I talked to who had previously been to Thailand, I had only heard good things, and I am definitely seeing the greatness described. From the gorgeous Wat Chedi Luang of Chiang Mai and the Royal Palace of Bangkok, to the carst cliffs jutting out of the turquoise waters off Railay Beach and the graceful mountains that call home just beyond Chiang Mai, Thailand has a lot to offer— and I’ve only just scratched the surface.
Under that surface of good infrastructure, overall safe cities, clean streets and an amazing trash pickup system (I’m still figuring out how they manage trash pickups everyday on every street), there lies an underbelly of Thai culture, largely driven by western demand. It’s like the many cockroaches I see every night on the sidewalks— visible, but easy to dismiss as they quickly disappear through the cracks of the sewers and walls for an escape. You can see exploitation in Thailand but must be conscious of it in order to avoid enabling it.
After just listening to David Foster Wallace’s 2005 commencement address to Kenyon College, I realize the dramatic shifts my thinking and way of living has gone over the past several years. Wallace states that sometimes, “The most obvious and important realities are often the ones are the hardest to see and talk about.” The “banal platitudes” of life are the ones that seem to be meaningless but happen “day in and day out.” Grocery shopping, the laundry, brushing our teeth— do we ever think about these things, or are these just the necessities that drive our life into seemingly endless tedium? Wallace starts his address by telling the “fish story.” Two young fish swim towards an older fish who nods and says, “Morning boys. How’s the water?” The two fish swim along for a bit and one turns to the other and asks, “What the hell is water.”
Graduating college in 2011, I, like most fresh college graduates sought to jump right into the workforce, make those big bucks, and REALLY enjoy the real world. My frantic job search for two months landed me away from the pizza shop (shout out to Brenda’s Pizzeria, my place of employment for eight great summers) to a government defense contractor position working in Army chemical defense research (yea, cool stuff). This was an incredible opportunity to flex my research muscles and get some real world experience in the research field. With an incredible mentor and great team, I was able to do just that— attending several conferences around the country and even contributing to several papers that will be published in the near future. My love for science was being nurtured well, but an itch to get out into the world and immerse myself in new cultures had not fully been scratched.