Listening: A moment of silence.
What's my problem? Good teachers die.
During my time in college, I had two professors that really impacted me. Two professors that to this day, I would still take a course from, despite my lacking use for college academia and classrooms. One is the everlastingly funny Jenny (formerly Jim) Boylan who I had the luxury of having for two semesters of creative writing workshops. The other is the now late, great, Charlie Bassett.
I learned of Charles Bassett's passing a couple of days after I left the island. With all of the chaos of getting a visa, packing, and seeing people that I hadn't seen in six months, I hadn't had time to properly memorialize him.
I remember my first day of class with him. The class, Hemingway and Fitzgerald, met in the basement of the library and it was a class that I had been trying to get into for a long time. It was a large classroom with desks arranged in a square with a larger desk at the head of the square closest to the blackboard.
All of us students were there waiting for the legendary Charles Bassett to make his entrance, I found myself wondering what was so good about this professor that everyone, whether they were an English or American Studies major or not, wanted to take his class. Had the college been in a third world country, one would have had to bribe a mid-level beauracrat with a handshake on the sly to get a spot in the class.
Now, enter Charles Bassett.
A stocky man wearing khakis, a khaki sports coat with patches on the elbows, white shirt, and a maroon knit tie, carrying a leather briefcase charged into the room. With haste, he throws his briefcase onto the desk, runs his hand up and down his perrenially red face a couple of times before running it through his mop of white hair and exhaling. Little did I know that this was how every one of his classes began.
From there he launches into his engaging discussion of modern American novelists while calling some by their last names and others the endearing name of "Smedley." His teaching style not only dropped mad amounts of knowledge into the beer-laden brains doing their best to wake up, but entertained in a style that could only be described as vaudeville. Bassett was a true raconteur, spinning insights, drawing in his audience and getting them to add to the story as well.
I have taken a number of Hemingway classes over the course of my educational career, but none were as enlightening or as fun as the one with Bassett. He got excited about concepts and prose and got us all excited too. He got whipped up into such a state where spittle would collect at the corners of his mouth and could occasionally project itself onto some poor, unsuspecting co-ed.
Bassett had a zest or a zeal for life that should be aspired to by anyone, anywhere. You could tell that he had a limited attention span for bullshit and a limitless love for beer. On any given evening you could have found him, not at home, but at the pub hanging out with his beloved students and the students who loved him as well.
He had infinite patience for the earnest (and the Ernest), having all of the time in the world for a student who needed help with, not only his class, but with the classes of his colleagues.
When I think of Charlie Bassett, I think of the type of educator that every educator should strive to be, and every student should have the opportunity to learn from. If everyone was as passionate about their chosen profession as Bassett was, the world would be a better place. People would accel in their fields and would raise the level of intellect and imagination of the world as a whole. Unfortunately, not every professor is like Bassett, and not everyone chases the dragon like he does.
So, those who were lucky enough to be in his jovial presence, and who were insightful enough to look past the lessons of the class and see the lessons of the man, it's now our obligation to carry his spirit with us. It's up to us now to live with the zeal that he did. It's our job to pass on the enthusiasm. It's up to us to try to be the next Charles Bassett, although it's a tough order to live up to that, whether we do it in the classroom or out in the world.
So, to Charles Bassett, I raise a pint... or two. I can only hope and aspire to live with the passion, the compassion and the insightfulness that he did.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
T-4 Hours To Lift Off: My Kit.
Listening: Fear not when or fear not why. Fear not much while we're alive. Life is for living not living uptight until you're somewhere up in the sky.
What's my problem? Woke up too early, went back to sleep, woke up late, now no time to get sum'in to eat.
Coffee in hand. E'rything alright. Got a few hours b'fo my flight. Throwin' down blog. Showin' my kit. Makin' nine-to-fivers jealous li'l gits.
Well, that's a first. Never have rapped on a blog. If you're curious, I was channeling my inner Jay-Z.
It's 12:38 right......NOW. In a mere few hours, I'll be on a direct flight to San Jose. So, for both insurance purposes and to let people know what I'll be hauling around with me for the next couple of months, here we go with the kit list!
The Shoes: Keen Briggs Shoe, Keen Newport H2 Sandals, and POS flip flops I got in Ko Phangan.
The Pack: EMS Long Trail II. It's been a long time since they stopped producing this pack, but it's gotten me through a couple of trips around Europe, and a trip through southeast Asia. No reason to switch it up now.
Packing Cubes... An invaluable way of keeping your clothes and your pack organized.
(Starting in the upper left and going clockwise and then in) Mountainsmith Tour Pack (aka Man Purse), EMS Pack duffel, 3 Liter drybag, Pacsafe 100 Travel safe, pack towel, coolmax sleep sheet, laundry bag, money belt.
5 pairs EMS quick drying Techwick drawls, 2 pair Smartwool hiking socks, 2 pair Smartwool "Comfy" socks, 1 pair lightweight socks, 2 pair EMS convert pants, 1 pair Gap recruit pants, 1 pair imitation Billabong swim trunks, 1 pair Thai style pants.
1 EMS fleece vest, 1 North Face water resistant shell, 1 Oakley water resistant hoody, 1 Hot Chilli's long sleeved thermal, 1 Banana Republic synthetic long sleeved tee, 1 H&M long sleeved tee, 1 Hanes Tee, 1 blue H&M tee, 1 Express wrinkle free dress shirt, 1 cotton/linen shirt Ieva gave me, 1 Kenneth Cole short sleeved polo style shirt, 1 Mammut short sleeved button down shirt, 1 Patagonia short sleeved button down shirt.
Printed out pertinent info including copies of passport, copies if visa, airline reservations, hotel reservations, maps to US consulates, passports with extra photos and immunization card, 2 notebooks, 1 pair spare glasses, business cards in case, HOOT!, front pocket wallet with cards, chain wallet with cards & passport card, 3 Benjamins, keys, diver's logbook & safety chart, change pouches with foreign currency, Rough Guide to China and J. Maarten Troost's Lost on Planet China.
Universal plug adapter, voltage converter, USB SD card reader, Acer Aspire One & charger, Blackberry Pearl & charger, 160GB iPod Classic, Voda earbuds, USB AC adapter, Black Diamond Gizmo headlamp, 8GB, 4GB, & 32MB SDHC cards, Hong Kong plug adapter, watch, Canon extra battery & charger (not pictured: Canon SD890 IS Digital Elph & 8GB SDHC card)
Toiletries... Who really gives a fuck about this stuff? And I'm short on time.
Laundry gear.
This is all of the stuff staying in San Jose and going to Vancouver with me.
The trusty Samsonite carry-on.
Leather Jacket from Florence, Adidas wooly hat, Quicksilver sweater.
1 3-button black suit, 1 pin-stripe gray vest, 1 pair gray Gap pants, 1 skinny black tie, 1 silver DKNY tie, 1 Victorinox pocketwatch.
3 Button-down shirts.
1 Pair Gap jeans, 3 pair Old Navy cotton boxers, 4 random tee shirts, 1 pair EMS hiking socks, 1 pair Hanes cotton socks.
1 pair Timberland boots.
So that's everything I'm leaving the house with, including what I have on. There may be a few odds and ends missing like the Sharpie I keep in my pocket and my eyeglass cloth, but for the most part it's accurate. It's now 1:39PM. I plan on leaving the house in about a half hour. It's certainly coming down to it.
Oh yeah. If any of you have SKYPE, I just joined, so I can chat with people on the Acer that I'm bringing with me to China. So, send me your info and I'll link it up to you.
*Whew* I feel like I'm ready but I'm not ready to go. I have 36 hours or so of time in California before I take the twenty hour trip to Shanghai. I should be blogging before I head over the ocean. If I don't and if the Great Firewall of China stops me from blogging, don't panic until December 22nd.
And if I never return, remember: Life is short. Put tasty things in your mouth.
What's my problem? Woke up too early, went back to sleep, woke up late, now no time to get sum'in to eat.
Coffee in hand. E'rything alright. Got a few hours b'fo my flight. Throwin' down blog. Showin' my kit. Makin' nine-to-fivers jealous li'l gits.
Well, that's a first. Never have rapped on a blog. If you're curious, I was channeling my inner Jay-Z.
It's 12:38 right......NOW. In a mere few hours, I'll be on a direct flight to San Jose. So, for both insurance purposes and to let people know what I'll be hauling around with me for the next couple of months, here we go with the kit list!
The Shoes: Keen Briggs Shoe, Keen Newport H2 Sandals, and POS flip flops I got in Ko Phangan.
The Pack: EMS Long Trail II. It's been a long time since they stopped producing this pack, but it's gotten me through a couple of trips around Europe, and a trip through southeast Asia. No reason to switch it up now.
Packing Cubes... An invaluable way of keeping your clothes and your pack organized.
(Starting in the upper left and going clockwise and then in) Mountainsmith Tour Pack (aka Man Purse), EMS Pack duffel, 3 Liter drybag, Pacsafe 100 Travel safe, pack towel, coolmax sleep sheet, laundry bag, money belt.
5 pairs EMS quick drying Techwick drawls, 2 pair Smartwool hiking socks, 2 pair Smartwool "Comfy" socks, 1 pair lightweight socks, 2 pair EMS convert pants, 1 pair Gap recruit pants, 1 pair imitation Billabong swim trunks, 1 pair Thai style pants.
1 EMS fleece vest, 1 North Face water resistant shell, 1 Oakley water resistant hoody, 1 Hot Chilli's long sleeved thermal, 1 Banana Republic synthetic long sleeved tee, 1 H&M long sleeved tee, 1 Hanes Tee, 1 blue H&M tee, 1 Express wrinkle free dress shirt, 1 cotton/linen shirt Ieva gave me, 1 Kenneth Cole short sleeved polo style shirt, 1 Mammut short sleeved button down shirt, 1 Patagonia short sleeved button down shirt.
Printed out pertinent info including copies of passport, copies if visa, airline reservations, hotel reservations, maps to US consulates, passports with extra photos and immunization card, 2 notebooks, 1 pair spare glasses, business cards in case, HOOT!, front pocket wallet with cards, chain wallet with cards & passport card, 3 Benjamins, keys, diver's logbook & safety chart, change pouches with foreign currency, Rough Guide to China and J. Maarten Troost's Lost on Planet China.
Universal plug adapter, voltage converter, USB SD card reader, Acer Aspire One & charger, Blackberry Pearl & charger, 160GB iPod Classic, Voda earbuds, USB AC adapter, Black Diamond Gizmo headlamp, 8GB, 4GB, & 32MB SDHC cards, Hong Kong plug adapter, watch, Canon extra battery & charger (not pictured: Canon SD890 IS Digital Elph & 8GB SDHC card)
Toiletries... Who really gives a fuck about this stuff? And I'm short on time.
Laundry gear.
This is all of the stuff staying in San Jose and going to Vancouver with me.
The trusty Samsonite carry-on.
Leather Jacket from Florence, Adidas wooly hat, Quicksilver sweater.
1 3-button black suit, 1 pin-stripe gray vest, 1 pair gray Gap pants, 1 skinny black tie, 1 silver DKNY tie, 1 Victorinox pocketwatch.
3 Button-down shirts.
1 Pair Gap jeans, 3 pair Old Navy cotton boxers, 4 random tee shirts, 1 pair EMS hiking socks, 1 pair Hanes cotton socks.
1 pair Timberland boots.
So that's everything I'm leaving the house with, including what I have on. There may be a few odds and ends missing like the Sharpie I keep in my pocket and my eyeglass cloth, but for the most part it's accurate. It's now 1:39PM. I plan on leaving the house in about a half hour. It's certainly coming down to it.
Oh yeah. If any of you have SKYPE, I just joined, so I can chat with people on the Acer that I'm bringing with me to China. So, send me your info and I'll link it up to you.
*Whew* I feel like I'm ready but I'm not ready to go. I have 36 hours or so of time in California before I take the twenty hour trip to Shanghai. I should be blogging before I head over the ocean. If I don't and if the Great Firewall of China stops me from blogging, don't panic until December 22nd.
And if I never return, remember: Life is short. Put tasty things in your mouth.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
T-5 Days: Small Time Spies
Listening: I'm a failure at heart, but it seems I succeed when my heart feels the need to be helpful. It doesn't happen much and as a result, it's a rare thing.
What's my problem? Not being organized enough
You know in spy movies when a spy is on the run and he needs to make a break for the border? You know how he opens a drawer and pulls out five different passports and several different currencies? Well, I have one passport and several different currencies. Just five minutes ago, I opened up my secret spot that holds several envelopes and pouches. After sifting through the contents, I pulled out my Hong Kong and my Thai currencies for my trip. That's right. I have multiple currencies at hand. Yes, it's true that some of those said currencies no longer hold any value (Czech Krounas), and some countries' currencies hold very little value (Cambodian Riel), but I hold onto them for the hell of it.
I realize that it's not much, but some of these currencies are going to be enough to buy me snacks at airports in Hong Kong and Bangkok, two places that I will probably be going through during this trip (unless I decide to ditch the familiarity of Bangkok for the possibilities of Kuala Lumpur). So, I currently have 210HKD ($27.07 USD) and 220THB ($7.35 USD). See. Small time spy stuff. A real spy would at least have a thousand US dollars of each.
Anyhow, I have almost everything taken care of for my departure. My visa was a bit of an ordeal. See, I went down to New York City on Thursday to submit my passport to get my Chinese visa. I opted for the expedited service so that I could pick it up on Friday so I could come back to Boston on Saturday. It didn't work out so well. See, on the website, I recalled that the office was open from nine in the morning until half past noon, and then again from half past one until five in the evening. So, when they told me to pick the visa up on Friday after two in the afternoon, I thought that it would be fine if I picked it up at three. I didn't bother to look at the claim slip or the paper on the door to the consulate. It clearly stated that the hours were from nine in the morning until half past two in the afternoon. So, when I rolled up at three, the place was locked up tight. BASTARDS! It had already been a bad enough day with me locking my phone in my buddy's apartment and missing the train that would have gotten me into town right on time to meet my other friend for lunch. So, I did go back up to Boston on Saturday and trek back down on Monday to pick up my visa. Eight hours on a bus in one day. I guess it was just training for my flight to China, huh? It's not like I haven't done long haul flights before.
The good part about my trip to New York City was that I went and ate at Fatty Crab. I have to say that this was really kind of like a place that I would want to own and/or work at. It's a tiny joint in the West Village that serves Malaysian inspired food. It was loud, dark and rowdy. The bar had four seats. The rest of the dining room had a cramped thirty-two seats. You could see into the three-man line. They were unabashed by their use of pork and deep frying. They used clay pots. The music was loud and unapologetically contained explicit lyrics. Honestly, I think that Boston needs a place like it. A family joint, it is not. And there should be a place in the restaurant scene for that. Unabashedly adult.
I ordered the crispy fried pork and pickled watermelon salad to start with. It had six or seven one-inch cubes of deep fried pork belly, six or seven one-inch cubes of watermelon, smaller bits of pickled watermelon rind, and a salad of thai basil, cilantro, and scallion on top. I say, "Ga' DAMN! that was a good salad." I followed that up with the Lo Si Fun, which were short rice noodles with chinese sausage and shiitake mushrooms in a really rich sauce. When I say rich, I mean RICH. It was so rich that I wasn't sure if I could finish it. It didn't help that they amused me, mid-coursed me and threw some dessert cake at me. I think everyone gets amused and desserted, but I got a very good mid-course of pickled roasted beets over a spicy mayo. At first, I wasn't so sure about the combination, but by the fourth bite, I was really digging it. And I don't even like beets all that much.
Anyhow, if you're in the NYC, go check out Fatty Crab. It's pretty cool. I almost think that I wasn't hip enough to be eating there. But I would try it anyways.
Well, it's late and I have to spend five hundred dollars on travel insurance tomorrow. It should be a good time. So cheers until next time.
What's my problem? Not being organized enough
You know in spy movies when a spy is on the run and he needs to make a break for the border? You know how he opens a drawer and pulls out five different passports and several different currencies? Well, I have one passport and several different currencies. Just five minutes ago, I opened up my secret spot that holds several envelopes and pouches. After sifting through the contents, I pulled out my Hong Kong and my Thai currencies for my trip. That's right. I have multiple currencies at hand. Yes, it's true that some of those said currencies no longer hold any value (Czech Krounas), and some countries' currencies hold very little value (Cambodian Riel), but I hold onto them for the hell of it.
I realize that it's not much, but some of these currencies are going to be enough to buy me snacks at airports in Hong Kong and Bangkok, two places that I will probably be going through during this trip (unless I decide to ditch the familiarity of Bangkok for the possibilities of Kuala Lumpur). So, I currently have 210HKD ($27.07 USD) and 220THB ($7.35 USD). See. Small time spy stuff. A real spy would at least have a thousand US dollars of each.
Anyhow, I have almost everything taken care of for my departure. My visa was a bit of an ordeal. See, I went down to New York City on Thursday to submit my passport to get my Chinese visa. I opted for the expedited service so that I could pick it up on Friday so I could come back to Boston on Saturday. It didn't work out so well. See, on the website, I recalled that the office was open from nine in the morning until half past noon, and then again from half past one until five in the evening. So, when they told me to pick the visa up on Friday after two in the afternoon, I thought that it would be fine if I picked it up at three. I didn't bother to look at the claim slip or the paper on the door to the consulate. It clearly stated that the hours were from nine in the morning until half past two in the afternoon. So, when I rolled up at three, the place was locked up tight. BASTARDS! It had already been a bad enough day with me locking my phone in my buddy's apartment and missing the train that would have gotten me into town right on time to meet my other friend for lunch. So, I did go back up to Boston on Saturday and trek back down on Monday to pick up my visa. Eight hours on a bus in one day. I guess it was just training for my flight to China, huh? It's not like I haven't done long haul flights before.
The good part about my trip to New York City was that I went and ate at Fatty Crab. I have to say that this was really kind of like a place that I would want to own and/or work at. It's a tiny joint in the West Village that serves Malaysian inspired food. It was loud, dark and rowdy. The bar had four seats. The rest of the dining room had a cramped thirty-two seats. You could see into the three-man line. They were unabashed by their use of pork and deep frying. They used clay pots. The music was loud and unapologetically contained explicit lyrics. Honestly, I think that Boston needs a place like it. A family joint, it is not. And there should be a place in the restaurant scene for that. Unabashedly adult.
I ordered the crispy fried pork and pickled watermelon salad to start with. It had six or seven one-inch cubes of deep fried pork belly, six or seven one-inch cubes of watermelon, smaller bits of pickled watermelon rind, and a salad of thai basil, cilantro, and scallion on top. I say, "Ga' DAMN! that was a good salad." I followed that up with the Lo Si Fun, which were short rice noodles with chinese sausage and shiitake mushrooms in a really rich sauce. When I say rich, I mean RICH. It was so rich that I wasn't sure if I could finish it. It didn't help that they amused me, mid-coursed me and threw some dessert cake at me. I think everyone gets amused and desserted, but I got a very good mid-course of pickled roasted beets over a spicy mayo. At first, I wasn't so sure about the combination, but by the fourth bite, I was really digging it. And I don't even like beets all that much.
Anyhow, if you're in the NYC, go check out Fatty Crab. It's pretty cool. I almost think that I wasn't hip enough to be eating there. But I would try it anyways.
Well, it's late and I have to spend five hundred dollars on travel insurance tomorrow. It should be a good time. So cheers until next time.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Day 134: Last Sprint
Listening: They say time will make all this go away, but it's time that has taken my tomorrows and turned them into yesterdays. And once again that rising sun is droppin' on down and once again, you, my friend, are nowhere to be found.
What's my problem? Having no idea what it will be like in China.
I have a mere six more days before I make my exodus from this island and another fourteen before I skip the country. I can feel the tension in my shoulders slowly releasing and I feel like I can breathe a little easier.
I've been counting down the days until my exodus from the island for a long time, for almost half the season. I knew pretty quickly that it didn't feel right, but I am a man of my word and a man of commitment. So, I stayed. As I talk about leaving with glee, one of my friends seems disappointed in me. She loves the island. And, though she doesn't want to stay for the isolated, cold winters, she believes the simpler life is for her.
We had a brief conversation last night as we walked to a bar. I said that of the few things that I will miss about the island, one of them is the incredible view of the stars. She said that Nantucket was a beautiful place. And, to that, I said that a place can be beautiful and not for you at the same time. That's what this place is. It's beautiful and not for me at the same time. It's a place I would come to for a weekend to hang out at a beach and have a nice dinner, but I would never live here again unless something drastically changed in me. Nantucket, much like Lyon, France, was a beautiful place, but it just didn't sit well with me. It wasn't a place I wanted to spend much more than one single night.
The schedule of my life over the next couple of weeks is pretty rapid fire. This weekend is Hogtoberfest at American Seasons, which should be even more amazing than last year. Whole roasted pig's heads on the tables and charcuterie up the whazoo. Tuesday, one of my best friends will be picking me up from the ferry. Hopefully, I'll get to see his new digs and maybe his new pup. Wednesday is another one of my friends' birthday. Hopefully I'll get to buy her a drink or a plate of pig tails. Thursday, I'll be heading to NYC to apply for and hopefully receive my expedited visa to get into China. I'll be down there for a couple of days, hopefully having dinner with some friends and just relaxing. I think I'll be catching a ride back to Boston with a friend of mine, so I can go to the 10-course Dante's Inferno dinner on Sunday with a few friends. Between then and November first, I'll be preparing for my trip to China.
I don't have a whole lot left to do for the trip. I have to book my first few nights of hotel in Shanghai so I can adjust to the time zone without the potentially crazy backpackers. I also have to buy my travel insurance. As far as gear goes, I think I only need to buy a new headlamp and maybe a few new pairs of socks.
The tough part for me will be the actual packing. I'll have to pack for my trip around China in late fall where it might get chilly and maybe a couple of weeks in southeast Asia where it might get steamy (the way I like it) all in my backpack. Then, I will need a separate suitcase for my time in San Francisco and Vancouver for the holidays, where it will be downright cold and I will also need some dressy options. I'll be leaving the nicer stuff in my suitcase in San Francisco while I'm in China, but it really will be hell trying to decide what's going where with me. As always, everything that I take with me abroad needs to be relatively quick-drying, and it can't be anything I would cry about losing or ruining while I'm on the trail.
The new addition to the pack this time around will be a netbook. I was thinking about buying a netbook to bring with me just in case the great firewall of China blocks me out of my blog and my photo storage site. The thing is that when I get back home, I'll never use the netbook again, because I'm a Mac guy. When it came to light that my brother was looking to purchase a netbook, the plan came together. He would buy the netbook, I would pay for some of it and I would use it until I got home and hand it off to him. It's a great arrangement. If something happens to the netbook on the trail, I just owe him the money for it. I'll be able to keep a great record of my trip and it'll be small and light enough for me to carry around.
So for right now I'm looking at travel insurance, Shanghai hotels, and maybe a few cooking classes in China. There's a culinary tour in Xi'an for $60 (roughly) which takes you around the Muslim quarter and introduces you to the Chinese Muslim (Hui) cuisine. There are also a few different classes that I have found in Shanghai as well. I really want to take a more intense course, though. The questions are is these types of classes are offered, how much they cost, and if I can afford the time.
Something else I'm really excited about is that if I end up going back to Thailand where it will be warm, I'm planning on going to Wat Bang Phra, a Buddhist temple where they do old school Buddhist tattoos of protection. I feel that these days more than in the past, I could use a bit more protection. It would be a really cool experience to get the tattoo in the traditional bamboo needle. I'll probably get one either on the back of one of my shoulders like the one that Angelina Jolie has. I think that the other place I would consider getting it would be on my calf or my left forearm. It'll have to be one of the last things that I do in Thailand though, if I want to hang out at the beach. See, you can't really go in the ocean if you have a fresh tat. If I'm in Thailand I will most definitely be taking a dip in the crystal blue water and hanging out on the soft white sand.
It's funny. Last time I talked to my mother, she said that she thinks that I should plan a family vacation for the four of us. When I think about doing it, I know that there's no way it would ever happen. Between the facts that my father likes his concierge, and I like hostels with bars with cheap beer and people doing things on a shoestring, I don't think the accommodations would ever line up. My parents like things to be relatively planned out, to be like cattle led from one grazing area to another, whereas I like being able to dip at the drop of a dime. I left Hue, Vietnam a whole lot earlier than I thought I would. The same thing with Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I also like that I stayed longer in Hoi An, Vietnam and Cinque Terre, Italy. When you're with three other people, you don't get that freedom. And I don't think that my parents would buy the whole, "I'm going ahead... I'll meet you in the third city on the trail in a week...." thing. Four people means that four people have to have their bladders synchronized, their food desires coinciding, and their interests catered to. It's almost impossible to do that with one other person, to spend an entire backpacking trip with another person for more than a week and not take time off. Forget the fact that they'd have to carry their luggage on their back and wash their clothes in sinks. So, yeah, I don't see it happening.
Anyhow, I have to go. It's my last night off on the island and it's also prime rib night at Kitty Murtaugh's. I love me some prime rib.
What's my problem? Having no idea what it will be like in China.
I have a mere six more days before I make my exodus from this island and another fourteen before I skip the country. I can feel the tension in my shoulders slowly releasing and I feel like I can breathe a little easier.
I've been counting down the days until my exodus from the island for a long time, for almost half the season. I knew pretty quickly that it didn't feel right, but I am a man of my word and a man of commitment. So, I stayed. As I talk about leaving with glee, one of my friends seems disappointed in me. She loves the island. And, though she doesn't want to stay for the isolated, cold winters, she believes the simpler life is for her.
We had a brief conversation last night as we walked to a bar. I said that of the few things that I will miss about the island, one of them is the incredible view of the stars. She said that Nantucket was a beautiful place. And, to that, I said that a place can be beautiful and not for you at the same time. That's what this place is. It's beautiful and not for me at the same time. It's a place I would come to for a weekend to hang out at a beach and have a nice dinner, but I would never live here again unless something drastically changed in me. Nantucket, much like Lyon, France, was a beautiful place, but it just didn't sit well with me. It wasn't a place I wanted to spend much more than one single night.
The schedule of my life over the next couple of weeks is pretty rapid fire. This weekend is Hogtoberfest at American Seasons, which should be even more amazing than last year. Whole roasted pig's heads on the tables and charcuterie up the whazoo. Tuesday, one of my best friends will be picking me up from the ferry. Hopefully, I'll get to see his new digs and maybe his new pup. Wednesday is another one of my friends' birthday. Hopefully I'll get to buy her a drink or a plate of pig tails. Thursday, I'll be heading to NYC to apply for and hopefully receive my expedited visa to get into China. I'll be down there for a couple of days, hopefully having dinner with some friends and just relaxing. I think I'll be catching a ride back to Boston with a friend of mine, so I can go to the 10-course Dante's Inferno dinner on Sunday with a few friends. Between then and November first, I'll be preparing for my trip to China.
I don't have a whole lot left to do for the trip. I have to book my first few nights of hotel in Shanghai so I can adjust to the time zone without the potentially crazy backpackers. I also have to buy my travel insurance. As far as gear goes, I think I only need to buy a new headlamp and maybe a few new pairs of socks.
The tough part for me will be the actual packing. I'll have to pack for my trip around China in late fall where it might get chilly and maybe a couple of weeks in southeast Asia where it might get steamy (the way I like it) all in my backpack. Then, I will need a separate suitcase for my time in San Francisco and Vancouver for the holidays, where it will be downright cold and I will also need some dressy options. I'll be leaving the nicer stuff in my suitcase in San Francisco while I'm in China, but it really will be hell trying to decide what's going where with me. As always, everything that I take with me abroad needs to be relatively quick-drying, and it can't be anything I would cry about losing or ruining while I'm on the trail.
The new addition to the pack this time around will be a netbook. I was thinking about buying a netbook to bring with me just in case the great firewall of China blocks me out of my blog and my photo storage site. The thing is that when I get back home, I'll never use the netbook again, because I'm a Mac guy. When it came to light that my brother was looking to purchase a netbook, the plan came together. He would buy the netbook, I would pay for some of it and I would use it until I got home and hand it off to him. It's a great arrangement. If something happens to the netbook on the trail, I just owe him the money for it. I'll be able to keep a great record of my trip and it'll be small and light enough for me to carry around.
So for right now I'm looking at travel insurance, Shanghai hotels, and maybe a few cooking classes in China. There's a culinary tour in Xi'an for $60 (roughly) which takes you around the Muslim quarter and introduces you to the Chinese Muslim (Hui) cuisine. There are also a few different classes that I have found in Shanghai as well. I really want to take a more intense course, though. The questions are is these types of classes are offered, how much they cost, and if I can afford the time.
Something else I'm really excited about is that if I end up going back to Thailand where it will be warm, I'm planning on going to Wat Bang Phra, a Buddhist temple where they do old school Buddhist tattoos of protection. I feel that these days more than in the past, I could use a bit more protection. It would be a really cool experience to get the tattoo in the traditional bamboo needle. I'll probably get one either on the back of one of my shoulders like the one that Angelina Jolie has. I think that the other place I would consider getting it would be on my calf or my left forearm. It'll have to be one of the last things that I do in Thailand though, if I want to hang out at the beach. See, you can't really go in the ocean if you have a fresh tat. If I'm in Thailand I will most definitely be taking a dip in the crystal blue water and hanging out on the soft white sand.
It's funny. Last time I talked to my mother, she said that she thinks that I should plan a family vacation for the four of us. When I think about doing it, I know that there's no way it would ever happen. Between the facts that my father likes his concierge, and I like hostels with bars with cheap beer and people doing things on a shoestring, I don't think the accommodations would ever line up. My parents like things to be relatively planned out, to be like cattle led from one grazing area to another, whereas I like being able to dip at the drop of a dime. I left Hue, Vietnam a whole lot earlier than I thought I would. The same thing with Phnom Penh, Cambodia. I also like that I stayed longer in Hoi An, Vietnam and Cinque Terre, Italy. When you're with three other people, you don't get that freedom. And I don't think that my parents would buy the whole, "I'm going ahead... I'll meet you in the third city on the trail in a week...." thing. Four people means that four people have to have their bladders synchronized, their food desires coinciding, and their interests catered to. It's almost impossible to do that with one other person, to spend an entire backpacking trip with another person for more than a week and not take time off. Forget the fact that they'd have to carry their luggage on their back and wash their clothes in sinks. So, yeah, I don't see it happening.
Anyhow, I have to go. It's my last night off on the island and it's also prime rib night at Kitty Murtaugh's. I love me some prime rib.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Day 83: Estimates
Listening: It's like the more money we come across, the more problems we see.
What's my problem? Taking stock of potential expenses...
Flight Boston-San Fran/Jose RT: Delta Dollars=FREE!
Flight San Fran-Shanghai, Hong Kong-San Fran: $900
Flight Hong Kong-Bangkok RT: $200
Hostel/Hotel for 49 nights: (Avg $30/night) $1470
Food for 49 days: (Avg $25/day) $1225
General train/bus travel in-country: $750
Flight San Fran/Jose-Seattle: $250
Bus Seattle-Vancouver, B.C. RT: $55
--------------
Minimum Total: $4850
*OUCH*
What's my problem? Taking stock of potential expenses...
Flight Boston-San Fran/Jose RT: Delta Dollars=FREE!
Flight San Fran-Shanghai, Hong Kong-San Fran: $900
Flight Hong Kong-Bangkok RT: $200
Hostel/Hotel for 49 nights: (Avg $30/night) $1470
Food for 49 days: (Avg $25/day) $1225
General train/bus travel in-country: $750
Flight San Fran/Jose-Seattle: $250
Bus Seattle-Vancouver, B.C. RT: $55
--------------
Minimum Total: $4850
*OUCH*
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Day 72: Need.
Listening: I saw her today at a reception. A glass of wine in her hand. I knew she would meet her connection. At her feet was her footloose man.
What's my problem? 200+ covers even on Mondays
Just a quick note. Maybe a longer one down the line. Sometimes, when it's been raining for the past three days off that you've had and you're not talking to anyone outside of your place of business and you're not stimulated intellectually, the world throws you what you need.
This morning, I woke up earlier than normal. I ran some errands. I was supposed to have breakfast with my pal, but he didn't respond to my text in time. So I went to Black Eyed Susan's on my own instead.
There was a pretty sizable crowd outside the joint. It is the apex of the season, and the people wandering around the streets are enough to make me go bonkers. But, as a solo diner, I was able to secure a seat at the bar rather quickly.
I was seated next to this other solo diner who struck up a conversation when she saw that I was reading a book about Bangkok. From there, the conversation just flowed. It was a solid intellectual conversation, probably my first in months. It was nice to just connect with a real person, if only for a couple of hours while we drank our coffee and nibbled on our scrambles.
It was a complete breath of fresh air. I wish I could find more like her on the island. Unfortunately, she's really only here for a week, though she owned a bike shop on the island for 12 or 14 years.
It would be nice to find more like her. Maybe I just need to find more solo diners. Where I would find them on a vacation island, I have no idea. See if they're reading a book and comment on it. Never know when someone's going take your mind off of tomorrow and put you in a good place in the present.
What's my problem? 200+ covers even on Mondays
Just a quick note. Maybe a longer one down the line. Sometimes, when it's been raining for the past three days off that you've had and you're not talking to anyone outside of your place of business and you're not stimulated intellectually, the world throws you what you need.
This morning, I woke up earlier than normal. I ran some errands. I was supposed to have breakfast with my pal, but he didn't respond to my text in time. So I went to Black Eyed Susan's on my own instead.
There was a pretty sizable crowd outside the joint. It is the apex of the season, and the people wandering around the streets are enough to make me go bonkers. But, as a solo diner, I was able to secure a seat at the bar rather quickly.
I was seated next to this other solo diner who struck up a conversation when she saw that I was reading a book about Bangkok. From there, the conversation just flowed. It was a solid intellectual conversation, probably my first in months. It was nice to just connect with a real person, if only for a couple of hours while we drank our coffee and nibbled on our scrambles.
It was a complete breath of fresh air. I wish I could find more like her on the island. Unfortunately, she's really only here for a week, though she owned a bike shop on the island for 12 or 14 years.
It would be nice to find more like her. Maybe I just need to find more solo diners. Where I would find them on a vacation island, I have no idea. See if they're reading a book and comment on it. Never know when someone's going take your mind off of tomorrow and put you in a good place in the present.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Day 65: Fit.
Listening: I’m getting weary waiting for the harbor lights to change. I’ve forgotten what I do it for but I tread water just the same.
What's my problem? I'm a bit of a square peg.
When I was six, I moved from outside of Boston to the suburbs of St. Louis. In St. Louis, I was the new Asian kid. I didn't fit in very well or find myself well-liked by the masses. When I was twelve, I went to a new school. It was a Catholic school. I was a devout Athiest. From there, I moved to Chicago and I was exposed to this whole multicultural world that I had never been exposed to. In Chicago, I had friends in all sorts of cliques, but I don't think I really ever belonged to any of them. After being there for five years, I became a city kid. And what did that city kid do? He went to a college in rural Maine. So I was the city kid in the rural college. I was also the kid who liked house music. I wasn't the kid who was jammin' on Phish or Dave Matthews Band. I came out of college with an English degree, and not so promptly got a job as a mutual fund accountant. I wasn't exactly the model of the accountant. I could get the job done though, and I hated doing it. When I finally got my head out of my ass and quit the day job to become a cook, I was finally doing what I loved and I was hanging out with people I wanted to hang out with. However I was still the cook who was a white collar worker. Now I'm a cook on an island full of rich people. In a kitchen where I fit but I don't.
The whole point of that bit of exposition is just to show you how I have never felt like I've belonged anywhere that I've been really. I think that the only places that I really have felt that I have belong were in hostels as I have been traveling. It just dawned on me that the reason I felt like I belonged there was because I was in a place full of other people who didn't really belong where they were. We were all people from different parts of the world who were in one place that wasn't home. We all belonged as people who didn't belong. Epiphany.
Sometimes I just want somewhere that I'm supposed to be. I want to feel like I belong somewhere. I don't feel like I fit anywhere. Sometimes it kills me. I want some full time cohorts. A mob. A gang. Even if just like Mao, a gang of four. It's tough being at the age I'm at and doing what I'm doing. Many of my friends are making bank and are settling down with marriages, houses and kids. Sometimes they say to me that they're envious of the life I live, cooking for a living and traveling the globe. Don't get me wrong. I love traveling the globe and I enjoy cooking. The money isn't great though and the security is even worse. The hours are so bad that the only people you meet are the people you work with or the people at other restaurants.
I like multi-dimensional people. I'm not saying that restaurant people aren't multi-dimensional, but if you get a bunch of us in the room together, the only things we talk about are restaurants, food, how much we drank or who we fucked and we got them to do. Even if two restaurant workers went to the same foreign country, they'll only talk about it for five minutes before it comes back to food, booze and fucking. I want to hang out more with people who bring other things to the table, and sometimes foray into the arena of food, booze and fucking. I want people who talk about books and far off places. I want to be down with people who want to talk about technology and agriculture (from here on out to be referred to as T&A). I want to talk with people who have different views on what art is, what's good for the body and good for the mind.
So, I'm looking forward to getting out again. China, China, China. I have already e-mailed my friend Isa in Shanghai and my friends Candy and Simon in Hong Kong, who I visited last time I was in Hong Kong. I've bought a Rough Guide book for China and have started researching on the internet whenever I get a chance to. I know that I'll be starting in Shanghai and I'll be going to Guangzhou. Suzhou is so close to Shanghai that I'll have to take a trip out there. What I'm debating is whether I try to get up to Xian to see the terra cotta warriors, or whether I should try to get up to Beijing, or whether I should stick to the southeast and then head back into Vietnam and Thailand where it'll be warmer. Really, I'm just looking forward to belonging where I don't belong again.
A bit about guidebooks... Frommer's sucks. Fodor's sucks. Both have their information really shoddily put together. It doesn't tell you really much at all about the cities or what besides the few touristy things there are to see. They're much more geared to the people who want to be spending $100+ for a hotel room every night. The Frommer's China book that I got from the library has the most awful maps as well. There is no scale as far as how far things are from each other and how long it takes to get from point A to point B. It just blows all of the way around.
Lonely Planet is, generally, a good guidebook. The problem with Lonely Planet is that everyone and their mother has the Lonely Planet guide to wherever from here to Timbuktu. This means that any hostel that's in it is going to be 90% booked up, and the prices will be much higher than in the book. The same goes for any restaurant in it as well. That's why I decided to go with the Rough Guide. If I really want to get the Lonely Planet (who by the way has EXCELLENT maps), I'm pretty sure I'll be able to find a knockoff copy of it somewhere along the way, or even just pick up one that someone has left at a hostel. I have looked at a few different Rough Guides and they have good information that's well organized, good maps and it's not just the touristy things.
I can't wait to book my airline tickets. Once I do that I REALLY know I'm going. I'm sure I'll book them sometime in September or maybe in October. I got me some time.
So, today I got a text message from the world's best ex-roomie, who sent me a package of treats and some DVDs to pass the time with. She said I should join Facebook finally. I'm still giving some thought to it. For a long time I have been adamantly against it. I don't know what Facebook would really do for me. Most people know where I am and what I'm doing. But, increasingly, other people are using it to tell other people where they are and what they're doing. Should I join and make it "easy" on myself, or should I fight the fight and fight for my friendships? I mean, if they're not connected to you outside of cyberspace, why should they be connected to you IN cyberspace? I have no idea the answer to this question. All I know is that I can't really think of any of my friends who AREN'T on Facebook. And it's not like I'd be posting pictures of me scantily clad taking hits from a beer bong and improperly fondling a senator's daughter. But who would be my "Facebook friends?" My real friends? People I met during my travels? Cooks? To join or not to join... Next thing you know I'll be twittering my face off about how I haven't shaved in a week and my face is itching. No one wants to know that shit.
Anyhow, I've been at the coffee house ALL DAY LONG, as it has been raining, yet again, on my day off. The woman at the counter just called her daughter "princess." I think she's setting her daughter up for massive disappointment or an ego that no one wants to deal with. Irresponsible parenting. I'm going to look at some airfares before I bounce out of here. The place is about to close anyways.
What's my problem? I'm a bit of a square peg.
When I was six, I moved from outside of Boston to the suburbs of St. Louis. In St. Louis, I was the new Asian kid. I didn't fit in very well or find myself well-liked by the masses. When I was twelve, I went to a new school. It was a Catholic school. I was a devout Athiest. From there, I moved to Chicago and I was exposed to this whole multicultural world that I had never been exposed to. In Chicago, I had friends in all sorts of cliques, but I don't think I really ever belonged to any of them. After being there for five years, I became a city kid. And what did that city kid do? He went to a college in rural Maine. So I was the city kid in the rural college. I was also the kid who liked house music. I wasn't the kid who was jammin' on Phish or Dave Matthews Band. I came out of college with an English degree, and not so promptly got a job as a mutual fund accountant. I wasn't exactly the model of the accountant. I could get the job done though, and I hated doing it. When I finally got my head out of my ass and quit the day job to become a cook, I was finally doing what I loved and I was hanging out with people I wanted to hang out with. However I was still the cook who was a white collar worker. Now I'm a cook on an island full of rich people. In a kitchen where I fit but I don't.
The whole point of that bit of exposition is just to show you how I have never felt like I've belonged anywhere that I've been really. I think that the only places that I really have felt that I have belong were in hostels as I have been traveling. It just dawned on me that the reason I felt like I belonged there was because I was in a place full of other people who didn't really belong where they were. We were all people from different parts of the world who were in one place that wasn't home. We all belonged as people who didn't belong. Epiphany.
Sometimes I just want somewhere that I'm supposed to be. I want to feel like I belong somewhere. I don't feel like I fit anywhere. Sometimes it kills me. I want some full time cohorts. A mob. A gang. Even if just like Mao, a gang of four. It's tough being at the age I'm at and doing what I'm doing. Many of my friends are making bank and are settling down with marriages, houses and kids. Sometimes they say to me that they're envious of the life I live, cooking for a living and traveling the globe. Don't get me wrong. I love traveling the globe and I enjoy cooking. The money isn't great though and the security is even worse. The hours are so bad that the only people you meet are the people you work with or the people at other restaurants.
I like multi-dimensional people. I'm not saying that restaurant people aren't multi-dimensional, but if you get a bunch of us in the room together, the only things we talk about are restaurants, food, how much we drank or who we fucked and we got them to do. Even if two restaurant workers went to the same foreign country, they'll only talk about it for five minutes before it comes back to food, booze and fucking. I want to hang out more with people who bring other things to the table, and sometimes foray into the arena of food, booze and fucking. I want people who talk about books and far off places. I want to be down with people who want to talk about technology and agriculture (from here on out to be referred to as T&A). I want to talk with people who have different views on what art is, what's good for the body and good for the mind.
So, I'm looking forward to getting out again. China, China, China. I have already e-mailed my friend Isa in Shanghai and my friends Candy and Simon in Hong Kong, who I visited last time I was in Hong Kong. I've bought a Rough Guide book for China and have started researching on the internet whenever I get a chance to. I know that I'll be starting in Shanghai and I'll be going to Guangzhou. Suzhou is so close to Shanghai that I'll have to take a trip out there. What I'm debating is whether I try to get up to Xian to see the terra cotta warriors, or whether I should try to get up to Beijing, or whether I should stick to the southeast and then head back into Vietnam and Thailand where it'll be warmer. Really, I'm just looking forward to belonging where I don't belong again.
A bit about guidebooks... Frommer's sucks. Fodor's sucks. Both have their information really shoddily put together. It doesn't tell you really much at all about the cities or what besides the few touristy things there are to see. They're much more geared to the people who want to be spending $100+ for a hotel room every night. The Frommer's China book that I got from the library has the most awful maps as well. There is no scale as far as how far things are from each other and how long it takes to get from point A to point B. It just blows all of the way around.
Lonely Planet is, generally, a good guidebook. The problem with Lonely Planet is that everyone and their mother has the Lonely Planet guide to wherever from here to Timbuktu. This means that any hostel that's in it is going to be 90% booked up, and the prices will be much higher than in the book. The same goes for any restaurant in it as well. That's why I decided to go with the Rough Guide. If I really want to get the Lonely Planet (who by the way has EXCELLENT maps), I'm pretty sure I'll be able to find a knockoff copy of it somewhere along the way, or even just pick up one that someone has left at a hostel. I have looked at a few different Rough Guides and they have good information that's well organized, good maps and it's not just the touristy things.
I can't wait to book my airline tickets. Once I do that I REALLY know I'm going. I'm sure I'll book them sometime in September or maybe in October. I got me some time.
So, today I got a text message from the world's best ex-roomie, who sent me a package of treats and some DVDs to pass the time with. She said I should join Facebook finally. I'm still giving some thought to it. For a long time I have been adamantly against it. I don't know what Facebook would really do for me. Most people know where I am and what I'm doing. But, increasingly, other people are using it to tell other people where they are and what they're doing. Should I join and make it "easy" on myself, or should I fight the fight and fight for my friendships? I mean, if they're not connected to you outside of cyberspace, why should they be connected to you IN cyberspace? I have no idea the answer to this question. All I know is that I can't really think of any of my friends who AREN'T on Facebook. And it's not like I'd be posting pictures of me scantily clad taking hits from a beer bong and improperly fondling a senator's daughter. But who would be my "Facebook friends?" My real friends? People I met during my travels? Cooks? To join or not to join... Next thing you know I'll be twittering my face off about how I haven't shaved in a week and my face is itching. No one wants to know that shit.
Anyhow, I've been at the coffee house ALL DAY LONG, as it has been raining, yet again, on my day off. The woman at the counter just called her daughter "princess." I think she's setting her daughter up for massive disappointment or an ego that no one wants to deal with. Irresponsible parenting. I'm going to look at some airfares before I bounce out of here. The place is about to close anyways.
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