Lights from Salem

Musings and thoughts of a traveler and armchair linguist on his journey through the ups and downs of life.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Webs

Originally Written January 20, 2010

Dear Readers,

To set the stage where I am writing from: It’s ten minutes past midnight and since my DVD-Rom is breaking down, I watched a few podcasts, mostly TEDTalks, for any of you fans out there.

But there are a few things that I wanted to express in words. I can feel the wave moving away from me, or however I can describe the feeling that moves me to write, but I’ll do my best to pin down what I wanted to say. After listening to some the podcasts on education and technology and the environment and the other things that the speakers at TED presented, I listened to a talk that

I am currently probably the only person in my village who is awake right now. The rest of them have gone off to sleep, and after I finish writing this, I’ll myself be turning in. But elsewhere in the world people will be getting up. Some of them, over in Europe as it were, will be some friends who I love. And it’s like that all over this planet. People are constantly rising or going to bed, or going to work, or making lunch, or walking in a park, or on a boat, or an endless number of possibilities. The point I’m trying to make is that it’s like we are one giant organism: each one of us doing our own thing but part of a bigger whole.

The Bible refers to this as the Body of Christ. I’m not sure what other faiths or philosophies refer to it as, I’m afraid, but I don’t believe this is a Christian idea. I don’t think the idea of oneness is really a religious idea at all. We are linked even through the environment, in the ecosystem, and believe, although I don’t know how to illustrate it, through many deeper levels as well, probably levels that most of us aren’t consciously aware of.

Anyways, I think the idea of separateness is harmful because it creates a Me vs. You, Us vs. Them system. I’m not suggesting that we should all just run off to communes; societies serve practical purposes through distinct groups, clubs, nations, and of course families. People are joined, or excluded, through language, religion, common ideas, and so forth. I believe in individualism and in thinking for one’s self. But I think it’s prudent to remember that many of these differences are superficial. Deep down we all share a link to a common spirit of sorts. Something that makes us feel concern or empathy for other people, or even animals and plants, as the case may be, for people across the globe, across cultures. Some would say that caring for others is the moral thing to do, or that we can’t understand how someone or something feels and we are projecting our feelings. And both perspectives are valid. But why then the capability to feel?

Well, I feel a connection to this next part of the blog with the first part, but let’s see if I can show the connection in words. Usually when I write answers I’m looking for bubble to the surface of the page from I don’t know where. It’s funny that way.

I got a message from a dear friend of mine a couple of weeks ago. She was fairly vague in parts of it, but said she had decided to make a change in her life to embody positivity. I was proud of her, and it also inspired me to try to do the same thing. I’m a quarter of a century old. Much of that time has been lost from anxiety and depression at points in my life. Many of you can probably relate your own struggles to this, as well. Peace Corps has also been a very hard thing for me. It’s provoked a lot of negative and frustrated feelings, a lot of complaining and self-pitying and self-doubt. All of which is good, of course, because right on the heels of those feelings room to mature has opened up for me.

In my struggles in life I’ve learned a lesson that I’ve said everyone should learn. So I’m going to write this lesson down for all to read:

Your thoughts only have as much power as you give them.

This does not mean you can control your thoughts. But you can control what you indulge in. And if you can’t control them, start small, practice, and eventually you will, to a large degree anyways. Here’s the deal: Life isn’t going to be easier or more fun, it’s just going to be the way it was. What changes is your perception about it. When your perception changes – hopefully for the better – your attitude and actions improve as well. For example: I can be depressed about lack of things going on here and how the rain is such a downer and so forth. Or I can just accept it and then see what I can do about it. About the rain, that’s easy. I can’t change the weather. And many things in our life are “weather.” Many things in life we have precious little control over. About the lack of things to do: That depends on the individual. Either you then decide to find things to do, make ways to keep yourself busy, or adopt a different attitude about how life is where you are. In my case, I have been frustrated of the super-slow progress of the town library. It’s taken me a year to accept that things just happen at their own pace here. That doesn’t mean I give up. I’ll still have to help keep them on task, but understanding that life unfolds in its own way is helpful when dealing with challenging situations.

It’s a humbling lesson I’ve learned, and sometimes I have to relearn it. But relearning isn’t so bad because with time it becomes more second nature. When I have a negative, depressing or angry thought, I’m learning to ignore it, if it’s appropriate. Sometimes those feelings are telling important messages, but usually they are unproductive. If they are, I acknowledge they are there, and then tune them out, like a TV commercial. Or I try to anyways. Often I still feel like I’m in Don’t Take Life So Seriously 101.

I hope this helps. I hope it makes sense. If you don’t see the connection between the two parts of this entry, don’t worry about it. Basically what I’m saying is, it seems to me we are more tied related to everything than not, like we are all branches of the same tree, and that our thoughts flow over us like rain, but with practice we can choose what we let soak into the wood of that tree.

That’s what I believe. It’s made sense in my life.

One more thing: I want to put up a map or something to have readers pin-point where they are reading from. But until I can do that, or if I can do that, please respond so I can see what parts of the world my blog is reaching. This is going to be a standing request, and if you answer once, you don’t have to answer again. Some have answered already, and I really think that’s cool. It goes well with this interconnection theme I was talking about. Thank you for playing along!

Tschüss,
Tristan

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

The Great Indoors

Originally Written January 7, 2010

Dear Readers,

I’m finally breaking blog silence again as I settle down with my bottle of Coke and sunflower seeds to write out my thoughts. For the holidays I traveled home. This was the first time I’d ever “visited” America, as a matter of fact, as strange as that sounds. But as I think I said in my previous entry, whenever I’ve been out of the country, I’ve never come home until my trip was over.

It was great being home, although for the first day or two it didn’t seem real. It would be like, “Oh, that’s my backyard. That’s my backyard. I wonder if that’s my backyard.” For the most part I think that wore off. My dog got fat. That was kind of disappointing. But he still has his zest for life, and going for walks, and now loves cheese, something that I wasn’t aware of beforehand. He now understands three words of language (not including his name): walk, cheese, and Milkbone.

Other than spending time with my family, I didn’t do much. And that turned out to be better than I thought it would. I had been planning to go see some friends as well as my cousin on the other side of the state, but the weather in their area was unconducive to visitors. So I spent New Years with my estranged pal Sam Adams and watched TV while playing a computer game during the commercial breaks.

Being in my parents’ home made me feel like I was walking in luxury. Of course I enjoy comfort but I’ve never really been overly interested in materials (besides books and DVDs), yet when I saw the decorative stuff that is commonplace in many American homes, such as glass bowls filled with marbles plastic plant decorations, such as a Christmas wreath, or some of the decorative lamps or bronze figures my parents have collected over the years, I felt a bit like I was visiting a castle. Decorating has never been among my natural set of skills. Right now the only things I have on my walls are a calendar and a map of where the Peace Corps has been. And it’s not a very good map either (no capitols, no geographical information, just very straight forward colored in countries). But even in my bedroom in America the only thing I have on my walls are full-sized flags from Mexico and Germany. I like things simple.

I took nice hot baths, had iced tea (I honestly had forgotten how good it tasted, and that’s the right hand of God truth). I saw “Avatar” in 3-D and got nice hot buttery popcorn that you can’t get in Peru. I had forgotten how fast the internet was. And I had some good heart to heart talks with my parents.

But here’s the kicker. I was looking forward to coming back to Peru. It didn’t surprise me really, but it did relieve me a bit. Things here have been tough, but my routine is here, a lot of my friends are here somewhere, and even though I’ve talked about how I wish there were more infrastructure in my town, I have a better idea what I’m supposed to do. I still am not sure what I’ll do afterwards, but I guess I’ll think of something.

So after a nice couple of weeks in the good ol’ – albeit below to slightly above freezing – US of A I found myself on a plane back to Peru. For my first flight I had my iPod and e-reader in hand, charged and ready to entertain their new master, but as it turned out I talked to another traveler of the world, a young woman from Colorado who spent a few years doing marine biology work off a sailboat. For the entire duration of the flight we talked about where we had been, the kind of work we had done or what we had studied, and coping with similar things like the isolation that comes with being either on a boat in a rural village.

For my next flight I just watched movies and drank Coke.

Piura is hot and humid and I had forgotten to pack the shorts I had brought home. But still I survived and fought off hordes of taxi drivers outside the bus station and walked to my hostel where I stayed before heading back to site where I am now. Orfelinda isn’t around, it turns out. She and Peter are in Lima because she had to have a doctor from there examine her foot that’s been hurting her for a month or two. So it’s just Neysar at home. He told me he’d been home alone since December 18. I asked him what he did for Christmas and he told me he killed and cooked a hen. I asked him if he was sad to spend Christmas without his brother or mom, and he said, partly yes. But then he added that he was also partly happy because he got to have a whole hen to himself, and I can’t blame him for that. Peruvian chicken kicks butt and I don’t even like chicken that much.

My room smelled pretty musty, which I had been expecting; sealed adobe homes tend to give off an earthy odor. Nevertheless I was surprised to see so much dirty on the floor since I had cleaned right before I left. I decided to clean before unpacking. I discovered a plethora of flying insects, from little moths to beetles in my room. That didn’t surprise me. The dead bat under my bed did. I like bats, even though they can carry diseases. It’s too bad it didn’t stay alive in my room and eat all the flying bugs before it croaked. Right now there’s a cricket chirping under my bed and I’m rolling thoughts around in my head about how I’m going to liberate it from my room. This morning at noon when I woke up I saw insects clinging to the outside of my mosquito net and a big spider on my door that I whacked with my sandal. The Great Indoors indeed.

The rainy season has begun, but so far I haven’t seen much rain. To take advantage of the fact, I went jogging.

Ah yes, I made no New Year’s resolutions, in case anyone is curious. The only resolutions I can specifically remember is something like try to learn four languages or something this year. I figured the time limit would help me get my kiester in gear but it never did.

But I have made some life goals, especially after reading an email from a dear friend of mine who told me she was making some major life changes for the better: A more positive outlook. To be more conscious and present. To remember that negativity has no place in my life. Even if I don’t like to eat rice all the time. I’ve heard that if you stop fighting the flow of life, you become still and more at one with the Peace of Everything, because you are part of the Everything. Since I heard that and have kept that in mind, I have seen that I’m generally more positive, more still of mind, and I haven’t felt any real depression to speak of for the first time in years. So I’m curious to see how much further I can develop myself, and perhaps even help others.

Cheers all!

Tristan

PS- Out of curiosity, I want to know where those who read my blog live. I know some of my family and friends read my blog, but I've been curious if anyone from around the USA or from any other country read. If you are one of them, please leave me a reply saying where you are from. You don't have to be specific if you don't want, but I just want to see what parts of the world are reading my messages. Thanks!