30 d’octubre 2009

why does it always train on me



Uf, coming closer to Singapore and all arrangements done for the 2 gigs. Only need shoes to go with my dress, my fantastic dress.

Once again, had a 14 hour train trip and slept like a baby. On hard sleeper. Which is like soft sleeper but more people. This time I shared with a bunch of guys and a woman.
I spent a lot of time Bali-dreaming, my next destination, AFPdreaming and (sorry) piesdemono-ing (for insiders).

When I woke up I had 3 people on my bed, imagine the surprise, and big slit eyes looking at me trying to find answers to my existence: age, marital status and children.
This time a guy served as an interpreter. A Vietnamese guy who spoke French. Told them about my many years, husbands and children. Asked a lot about Vietnam, got into social situation and the average Vietnamese conformity (and bit my tongue), when we got to religion I think I got them lost on my concept of believing in nature and the ancient sun worshiping cultures. From Siddharta's philosophy I got them into hippiesophy and due to the lack of following I left it there. Hippiesophy is a complicated subject.

But what was the surprise to see my bunk bed partner was studying Spanish... Showed me his books and he delivered proof to be on the right path.



Note a 12 hour sleep face...

I keep it short as well. Just back from Island-hopping in Nha Trang. No Mama Lihn's as I got too late for that and I am glad, as I could find a speed boat and enjoy very sweet company for lunch.

Also dann, I managed to loose the bottom of my bikini in a toilet and break again the fastening of the top, something is telling me it is time to buy a new bikini, nudism is not an option here, helaas...

Much love further, got me a room in Singapore right around the corner of the concert and I am going to try my best to deliver good reports!

28 d’octubre 2009

pros and cons of single traveller-ettes

A certain person I spent a whole bunch of years with used to call me all the time "Einzelgaenger". I think I am quite far from it.
Traveling alone is just the consequence of not always finding available travel buddies, in my modest opinion.
I can adapt to anyone, but I tend to be the Einzelgaenger when traveling in groups. But just for moments a day, when I need to get lost for a bit. I carry that since childhood, ask my monitors in the Esplai or otherwise or my friends at university (Motto: wo ist Selva/die Katze).

Traveling in 2 has proven great as the margin of negotiation brings always 50% chance to reach consense.
I enjoy traveling. Chilled to enjoy moments, scenes or sights I consider enriching.

The pros of traveling alone have allowed me to change plans constantly and set off to an Amanda Palmer concert out of the blue and change my itinerary anti clockwise.

Writings on the train. I always like writing in motion. I shared compartment with Vietnamese. They opened up a newspaper wrap and shared a chicken. The woman with the child was like a talking machine, she started yapping with the controller and didn't stop to take a breath even when chewing.

video

The sound of her talking and her accent was very soothing and I felt asleep for 14 hours in a row. When she stopped talking I suddenly woke up and needed a cigarette break.
Longest-ever. I shared space with a Vietnamese guy. We exchange cigarettes unsaid. Then our conversation was driven by the power of math due to the language barrier. His packet cost 30.000, he was 50, was married for over 15 years and had 2 children. Then I left because he began to get touchy (as a friend calls it: the international language of love ???)

So far for a day's reflection. I am going on a crazy 3 day coast tour with Amanda in my thoughts.
Had a little tour in Hai Long. The light was amazing and could not capture it with the camera.





Hanoi was welcoming, but I see what I didn't miss. I think it was holding back for me to show me a one year stay wouldn't have been the best idea, although I would kinda yap Vietnamese nowadays... The city got me on jet lag and alcohol abuse. But I must admit the people who surrounded me these days were first class. No words left to express gratitude. They really made a difference, I tend to be really slow the first days and that was the little push needed to start off. I hope I can pay it back some day. It's a small world after all and it proves we keep seeing each other!

23 d’octubre 2009

In Hanoi

day 2,
Aah, don't let time pass by...
I was looking for the cables of the camera to be able to upload at least a picture of Hong Kong, but I have to learn to organize my bags better (and start getting rid of stuff).
In any case Hong Kong was an amazingly strange and beautiful city at the same time. A metropole that felt laid back.
Or it was the company... Met a friend I hadn't seen in ages. Great to get to see people some times. Beer made its way and as I was jet lagging, everything start becoming dreamy and time passed by in a whiff.

Ha Noi is villagyif you have been to other Asian cities. As my friend put it: like a Chinese city but with a more tropical touch. Noise and organised chaos.

Being picked up from a fantastic human being at this moment who is going to help me establish a bit.
Party tonight and still no concrete plan to get out. Have to get organised. It is the downturn of travelling alone. I don't have a good freind to remind me of all the things I forget or leave behind.

Hope to be able to hang some impressions in the form of pictures.
Slept 12 hours straight, aah, feels great now and it's a beautiful day!

20 d’octubre 2009

city of rejection

Day 0, some 24 hours before departure and spreading wise words: Make it intense.

Feelings are intense at the moment. Ready to leave behind memories. Closing a cycle where it opened:
In the city of rejection.

Some years ago, before I came to NL and lost a very relevant bit of myself I tried to continue my march into Asia by coming through a scholarship to both stay in touch with the university world and to start off in South East Asia, as my experiences there and further on that area always made me feel I belonged there somehow.

Memories take me back to that group of 8 candidates, I made friends with 4 of them, the ones I felt more enthusiastic about it, leaving behind the ambitious ones who looked over your shoulder.
My interview was like an attack. Assisting in teaching German as a second language. I studied the language as a second language and sold myself as a living example of a success case reliant in the German university system.
There I was sitting in front of a woman called Ann Butterworth, who had a very strong English accent.
I lost face when they asked me: how can you bring people closer to the German culture being a foreigner?
It annoyed me. I didn't think it was a stigma. I can still explain German grammar better than a German. My accent is not strong. How can then a Miss Butterworth get away interviewing me? How could miss B make it to organize an exchange program to promote German language as a foreigner then?

I remember what happened when I got the rejection letter. The other 4 candidates didn't get the position either. We called each other. We wrote each other. We shared the bitter taste of failure.
I tried applying 2 more times. Same results.
The third time I got there without even feeling like it. Take me or leave me. I don't understand your policy. I am a walking case of motivation. What else do you want?
I thought you could get something if you wanted it so badly. I guess I was wrong.

I could have stayed in my beloved Germany. But I moved. I detached from uni life. I missed it every day. After the 3rd rejection letter and an attempt to go overseas through other means I tried concentrating in building up, as life turned into a "professional life".
I haven't liked working for a company. It is alienating. I remember how much time I spent in the office at the beginning, writing songs and reading Sartre, Marx and Descartes.
I remember my dear flatmate, 'the thinker' and our interests in philosophy and art in general. I remember his writings. He remembers my dreams.

As time went by interests swifted. Reality check. The rest is history. Years later, on quiet days at work I choose a weekly obsession (autism, transgenders, overpopulation, dolphins, eating disorders, tantra, mental illnesses, amazing animals, Amanda Palmer, quantum physics, Annelise Michel, community channel, judaism, prophecies...). See how far they were from my post war poets or existencialists. Seen as diashow and it says enough. The mind slows down. The inquietudes fall in a slow slumber.

City of rejection, here I am. Show me why you didn't want me.

I am starting where I didn't begin. And you know what? Maybe I find out I didn't want you either.

18 d’octubre 2009

Failures, successes

I once work at a pizzeria.
As a bachelor educated preppy girl I thought all I was going to find was a bunch of barrio people, the ones who find tossing a pizza a serious employment.
Nothing far from reality. Our pizza maker had a certification and was a pizza turning champion.
Silly to put it like this now, but for everybody but me she was like a big hero and I was slowly getting contagious from the overall "she is a master in pizzas" feeling.
My job was to deliver them. The first and only pizza deliver girl in the city.
Needless to say, that even provided a map, and in my neighbourhhood, my orientation problems won over my effectiveness in delivering pizzas on time. Also needless to say I had great fun biking around the barrio and enjoying the serious stress everybody had getting orders and delivering on time. Not that I couldn't be bothered, but I was indulging myself being understanding of my handicap. Funny enough and worth a study, people on, say, less advantaged areas were the ones ordering pizzas. Yeah, ok, I lived in a more high standard area, they probably go to proper pizzerias there if pizza is an option for an evening casual meal.
Anything around the more messy barrios was outer space for me.
Anyway, first failure. Ever. Despite my efforts not getting lost all_the_time, they didn't renovate my contract there.
For a higher educated preppy girl, working in a 0 intellectual effort job it was a failure (though getting around is already challenging for me. Whatever your views on my intelligence, it just works fine in very limited areas... The pizza delivering experience showed.)

More?? After that I worked in a computer company. I was good enough as the previous girl didn't know what a mouse was. User-oriented computer skills aside (which were quite decent at my age) I never, ever managed to keep all stuff in place. My job was to control in and outs of the stuff (yeah, like I am going to telly tell if someone was late), schedules, working progress, orders and, oh I hated it, taking calls, many many calls of things I didn't even know of. My failure was not being able to manage the call forwarding system and never knowing where people where. And of course not being able to play 'big brother' on my colleagues.
Ah, besides I was in the high flat leeching stage with my then-boyfriend and of course not getting any sleep at all ;-0, so all I remember was me being completely tired after 2 hours sleep, smoking like a champion and taking my break in a near mall to *sigh* nick some gorgeous dresses to show off when arriving home. Naughty girl.

More to it: I worked for the company of a friend. Lawyers. Delivering court cases, following on documents first hand (remember Internet was not there, so I was the e-mail sender). NO failure, but goodness, so clueless of instances and whatever all these docs meant, I really had to keep a cheat sheet to know what the hell I was talking about.

This all about failures. But wait for the successes, because they get more interesting.

The area I have first succeeded in is... prrrrrooom! Child care.
Amazing how someone not particularly moved by kiddies has made a freaking difference on them. No modesty. My skills on child psychology are intuitionist and surprisingly effective. I could handle any little bastard. Well, I am very affective, but merciless on their child quality, and maybe that distance, in which you don't stimulate kids as retards kinda worked.
And besides until God knows when and why, I have always been very close to my inner child, so with them I was on an equal level.

More to successes. Jobs related to the outer image. Shit and this is annoying. Whatever involves looking like a doll works. Using my language assets of course, but I have been a pole dancer, so go figure... My failure there was not being able to fake bimboness. i would have made a career otherwise. I suck at small talk and flirtatious emptiness. But believe me you have to be really smart to pretend you are dum. Ergo, I am not really smart. Or really pretty. So I guess I was trying to balance between the two of them.
But I have the moves... Pff, ok, enough.
And working on events. My extroversion always helped me. Although again my soft skills are questionable. But seems the combination of my outer grotesque+dressed like a doll+world knowledge made it to make a good impression. Fools, i know how to behave... for a while until you get me interested in something and I forget the role I am playing.


There you go 2 great skills: child care and pole dancing... Am I balanced or what?

Just a thought after loosing a job on skills I kinda lost interest on. But I am really happy I acquire. Until at some point I couldn't see the colours of it, the excitement.
In the end what I am best at is language teaching. It combines the theatrical bit, my motivation to share, the lack of small talk (anything you say can be valuable and absorved), being in touch with humans and the patience skills.

Anyway, that's how far I got from my memories back in the pizza days.

Today's feelings.

- There is someone here who is going to wake me up early in the morning. And I so not fancy it.
- All the others are just asleep. Multiplying by 0 doesn't take a mathematician.
Even I can do it!

04 d’octubre 2009

The incredible eyes and the dirty girl

I have been biding time trying to get the image out, but it has caught me again today... Such amazing eyes I have seen these days, so long I didn't look into the eyes.

It all happened as I went to the doctor to remove my cyst. The doctor and the assistant were looking at my little horn/alien in my head while I felt the knife poking a hole in my scalp, yuks!
But that kept me little busy as I was much more into their eyes in front of me. I couldn't say if they are beautiful but they were definetely amazing.
Lagoon green both (I am a sucker for green eyes) and such a huge, huge eyeball it didn't fit in the eye and was kind of poking out, without even wearing contact lenses.
There I was mesmerized by the strange eyes that were fixed in me. Well, in my alien.

I asked them to show it to my. It was a puss bag with roots. I wanted to take it home, but I already have a half pension cat and plants so I didn't know where to put it... So cute and hungry!

So I am not allowed to wash my hair. And seen my condition the last days: sleep-wake-sleep-wake-eat-sleep I am definitely feeling like a daytime hikikomori with really filthy hair.
I have to admit I am being quite creative with the grease and the knots and I have added some fun to the filth. Hair is so sticky, anything sticks to it.

State of hair one week unwashed:




Dirty, dirty girl.

Today's feelings:
- I am mastering procrastination. At the moment I have 4 things running at the same
time and not doing a single one.
- A thought: As friends have said lately... I start admiting... I think I am
addicted to chaotic situations and turnarounds. Why? I am seeking proper guidance
to find out.
- Control freak on one side but just to ride twirls and turns... I am my own
tornado.