The Reluctant Traveler
The Tales and Travels Of a Man Who'd Really Rather Just Stay Home
Forever a Foreigner.
For the past three months, I’ve been eating at this small local restaurant near my house. And every time I’ve eaten there, they’ve given me a small bowl of hot water to wash my hands in.
I just discovered today that I’ve been washing my hands in their free complimentary soup.
Invincible.
So I just had my first motorcycle accident last night.
I was racing through a pair of green lights when the second light changed. Strangely, a part of my mind registered that the light had changed, but not the part responsible for actually doing something about it, so my internal dialogue went something like this: “Oh hey, the light is red… … … OH !@#$, THE LIGHT IS RED!”
I slammed on my brakes and ended up doing that cool motorcycle move where the bike lifts up on to its front wheel, except instead of landing back down safely, I fell over on my ass.
Amazingly, neither me or my passenger were hurt badly (my friend long ago developed a 6th sense for when I’m about to do something stupid and had jumped off the bike in time). All I got was a scrape, a bruised wrist, and a nice little immortality complex.
So, yeah, not a bad way to end 2012.
“Home For a Rest” by Spirit of The West
The ultimate Canadian drinking song. It doesn’t matter which part of Canada you live in; if this song comes on, everyone in the pub will get up and dance like drunken Irishmen. It’s beautiful.
Hell Week.
Tuesday - Night Before Final Exams: Went out to dinner with co-workers, got massive food poisoning.
Wednesday - 1st Day of Exams: Stayed up till midnight grading test papers while fighting the urge to throw up on said test papers.
Thursday - 2nd Day of Exams: Stayed up till one in the morning grading test papers while contemplating insanity as a viable career option.
Friday - Report Day: Sat in one room for seven hours waiting for student to come pick-up their report cards. Tried in vain to explain to parents the detailed nuances of their child’s educational progress in broken Indonesian. Gave up and resorted to using a “thumbs up, thumbs down” system of communication.
Impulsive Altruism.
Just watched some videos from MTV’s Exit campaign.
My friend posted a link of a live Jason Mraz show in Burma he was attending, but YouTube bounced me around to some of the other music videos in the campaign. In case you are clueless like I was, MTV’s “Exit” is to raise awareness of human trafficking and the music videos shown on the channel will rip out your heart and beat you with it until you realize just how much of a horrible human being you are for complaining about anything, ever.
I got halfway through a Killer’s song set to a video about human sex trafficking, before I logged out and registered as a monthly donor for the organization Not For Sale. I’d recommend checking out both the charity and MTV’s campaign. Or, you know, don’t do either and go back to living a happy, blissfully-unaware life.
It’s up to you, really. For me, I’m going to crawl under the covers and softly weep myself to sleep.
Comfort Food.
I just ate a huge cup of Baskin Robbin’s ice cream because I lost my bike keys at the mall. Apparently, I have the coping mechanisms of a teenage girl who’s just been dumped.
Hypocrites.
I live amongst the largest Muslim population in the world. Still, they insist on insulting God by making bacon with beef, not pork.
Silly religous people, don’t you know that pork products are God’s way of telling us that he loves us and hopes we return to him soon by way of heart failure before the age of 40.
Spiritual Pipe Dreams.
Next year, I want to …
1. Complete the “Way of St.James“ pilgrimage in Spain (Christian)
2. Join a Buddhist monastery in Vietnam
3. Fast for the entire month of Ramadan
What do guys think?
The Ol’ Muslim Conversion Thing.
I’ve been thinking about her again.
I saw a white girl walking down the street with his Muslim wife and thought to myself “Could I do that?” I mean, marriage alone is a scary enough prospect, but converting to Islam too?
Technically-speaking, I follow the Zen Buddhism philosophy which accepts all religions and atheism as more or less the same thing, so I do believe in Allah in a roundabout sort of way. Still, I’m not a Muslim and I don’t want to be identified as such. And I deeply resent any religion forcing people to “pick a side” just so they can be with someone they love.
If it was just a quick lie for legalities-sake so we could get married and move on with our lives, I would be fine with that. Sadly, I know that’s not the way it will be. Every time someone mentions my conversion or asks me if I’m a Muslim - I will feel a slight pain in my heart. It’s the pain of not being able to be honest about who you are; about having to lie about something core to your being. And while slight, I know those pains will accumulate into bitterness and resentment. Would you be able to deny your faith to be with someone you love? If not, you shouldn’t demand it from others.
If I did convert, it would be for her and her only. Keep your stupid “one god”, I’ll only be singing your song, yes, but it’ll only be lip-service so I can be with someone much more important - my wife. And I’m sure as hell, not going to lie when I’m raising my child: his mother will raise him Muslim and I’ll raise him atheist, and hopefully, he’ll have the good sense to say fuck you to us both and become a Christian.
I can’t say what the end of this year will bring - all I know is that I will have some tough decisions to make. And to my Muslim friends, if I ever do convert to your side, please don’t talk to me about it - don’t congratulate me, don’t mention it casually in conversation, and don’t offer me support. While I know your intentions are good, it will be just another small pain in my heart.
Just let me and my wounded pride be - the price you pay for love.
