I am very happy. Here in the transit lounge area of the Bangkok International Airport. I sip on a can of Singha beer (Thai) & a bag of Thai barbecue-flavored chips called INALM or INATM. I am the transient traveler, and I feel happy. It is quiet here at 12:20 am (Thai Time) and I am alone. No one knows me here; I owe them nothing & they owe me nothing. I feel free and light. Today, I am a shopping cart lady w/ 2 carry-ons. The little metal pushcarts are free to use here, so I've planted Mary's (hastily lent to me at the last minute in FW) Land's End bag and the canvas bag containing my high-end electronics, which I haven't even used yet. I sit here, feeling light, relaxed, and pretty rested, having just removed my hiking boots (been wearing them for 12+ hours) & put on my velcro-strapped black sandals. Hmmmm. My feet feel better. I thought of the following people: Julia Apodaca (hey, Julia, I made it to Thailand!); Elsie Escheverri-Carroll (thanks for the $20 check & the wonderful farewell drinking ritual w/ David on Julia's back porch electric clothes dryer!). Elsie, you wouldn't believe this place & how relaxed I feel. Then I thought of Patricia Greene because I saw her look-a-like walk past me a few minutes ago. Dear Patricia, with her thick thick Spanish accent. Great artist & travel-reveler. I am happy for her example & I am comforted by thoughts of her sashaying down concourse after concourse in foreign airports from Mexico to Iceland. Thank you, Patricia! I almost wrote a poem for you: "Ponte p'aya."
Then I thought of Mark Gee and about how he once told me a dream he'd had. It took place in the future: I was homeless on the streets, seemingly content & well-cared for. As I'd heard him talk, I remembered shuddering to think that I might end up on the streets, destitute and forlorn. But now, as I sit happily in the town furthest from Texas that I've even ever been, I know that I *am* that homeless (jobless, carless, husbandless, credit cardless) woman now. Maybe, it now occurs to me, Mark was merely dreaming of my life as a solo adventuress, traveling the outskirts of my home continent. This is the best way to be homeless, traveling by choice, alone y unfettered. No wonder I have felt so "wind" lately, my Libran air tendencies increasing in volume to make me feel spacey and largely disengaged from the material rat race world. I am so lucky knowing folks who would & could house me in a heartbeat from Vermont to Chicago to Denver to Dallas to GTO (Mexico) and New Orleans. This is a very positive, supportive feeling to have. This homeless lady actually has many welcoming arms in many homes in many places. Thank you, Mark, for sharing your premonitory dream with me...I hope *you* are content now.
DREAM -- I woke up towards the latter part of the Tokyo to Bangkok trip, on the plane, rather abruptly. I woke from a dream about a pathological murderess. The details have unfortunately evaporated, but it was a weird dream. Thankfully, it did not leave a bad afterbite w/ me when I jerked awake on the plane.
I've finished my beer. Now I must get to my sleep sack; the stitching must continue so I finish the sack before getting to KTM.
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2 comments:
hi, just came across your blog and found it interesting b/c you have a friend named julia apodaca? my name is julia apodaca. i thought i was the only one!
hmmm. i used to think i was the only
Tammy Gomez. i couldn't imagine any
parents out there wanting to give their
daughter such a name.
you learn something new.....
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