2.6.06
Blank. Its one of those lazy kinda months. Too lazy to write, to take pictures…to do anything but just sit at home and watch. Like that picture judy gave me. Hah…what a shame, eh? Part of me can’t wait till someone else comes here….so I can share this experience…in a language that I sadly know better than Vietnamese. But then again, there’s that part of me that knows that it won’t be the same…because there’s a part of me that can’t decide if I feel at home here. Comfortable, yes. Loved for and cared for like I’ve spent all my life here…..its an amazing feeling to have and share….so comfortable that it makes me wonder if I really understand the idea of home. i never really identified myself as a free spirit, nor really ever even thought about it until I played that silly game at the kure beach pier that told me I was one…and a friend concurred. And sense then, I’ve believed it. to be at home…..anywhere….? I love watching people….seeing people…live. My cousins asked me why I keep taking pictures of scenery….they seem uninterested. Maybe they’re used to it, or maybe they haven’t developed that sense of romanticism and appreciation of the world around them. (Hello, says the matter-of-fact, confident-no-its-more-prideful side in me. Hello, says the American in me?) Maybe I’m just too lazy to do anything useful and would just rather spend my head up in the clouds all day long. I dunno. I’m scared….to ask questions. To ask what ppl think…because I don’t know enough about the government and what’s allowed and what’s not. I don’t know anything about how anyone grew up and not everyone is willing to share….or well, maybe I’m just scared. In general. of difference. Maybe it’s a matter of….who am I to think that any of this is any of my business. Like a part of me is waiting for the “what’s it to you?” response, but then there’s that part of me that knows that more often than not, I am the overdramatic emotional post teen whose always looking to be a jumper to conclusions. (get over it) but then again, its coming. slowly…through conversations….i think I’m beginning to see how my perception of Vietnamese people conflicts with the Vietnamese perception of Americans. Its funny, because in all reality…we make the same assumptions against the other. its still a little too early to tell….but I’m still scared I’m going to run out of time. (hah, or maybe just run) Being here has allowed me to develop certain expectations about SIT and the program. Binh dan. Common folk. How I’ve been described, and definitely how I feel. :::insert half smile here::::
3.16.06
a month or so later. i remember writing the previous. Closed up, midday in the room where my mother slept 30 years before, taking my first break alone in about 5 days. it felt a little weird, finally taking the time to breathe and think about….VN. A month later, I sit in a semi-closed off room, still feeling weird about being alone, and also still feeling like this clash between identities is getting more and more involved…but then again, at the same time I think it’s just some sort social construct that I’ve found myself believing as truth. Quoc asked me what I thought about being here, and I told him that I’ve been finding myself worrying about what people think (yeah, that one threw me off too) and stuffs about wanting to fit in with Viets….and not succeeding….and at the same time trying to be one of the “Americans.” (balance, find it…or at least get out of that constant state of indecision). His response? Whatever I think, is all in my head. Its up to me. :::insert another half smile here:::
Recovered from Xanga 