time is a flyin

“4 months, wow, time flies.” I got that a lot over the last week. Now I’m on my way back to a routine of readings, writings and silly physics assignments. In reality, those are silly only because I don’t get them. In addition to that, I will be adding on some hours of part-time laboratory work and as much capoeira as I can manage in a week. Seeing as how I will now be so close to town, I could go for performances or exhibitions whenever I am free.

Enough of what is ahead. Time to catch up on what of the last 4 months…

It began with some time on Salt Spring, at a yoga place where J invited me to come be his building partner. He showed me how to handle some drills and other machinery. But the biggest lessons were: a good project takes time to plan, and any mistake can be fixed. We built a deck for a cabin that he was finishing, a big ass posh looking shoe rack and some canvases. The center was great, and the people in it just dears. I was fed the bestest vegetarian/vegan foods, made with love, eaten with great appreciation for all that had brought them to our table. Salt Spring is a fun crazy place. Dancing, markets, biking, climbing and happy smiley people. And when this came to an end, I was off again.

A brief overnight in Vancouver, I got ready for a roadtrip with Isa and her mother. Stocked up on a camping food and gear, we set off to cross the border. A man stood at the border crossing holding up a cardboard sign, which announced the date of rapture. He looked very serious. This was the beginning of a long journey that took us through many state and national parks from Washington to California, Utah to Idaho. Most of it was driving, I admit with a heavy heart, but such is the nature of a road trip which I should have been prepared to accept. Another big chunk of the journey was being amazed, feasting our eyes.

Deserving of special notice were the sequoias and redwoods in Northern California, the monoliths and climbers of Yosemite, the red earthy geological formations of Zion and the Valley of Fire, the bacteria and bison of Yellowstone. A humbling trip this was, not that I ever really thought I was big, but it did make me feel smaller than ever. I am thankful for my guardian angel allowed me to survive the fast and dangerous (in retrospect) roads of the states. After 3 weeks, we were back in Vancouver where I frantically packed and left for home.

Home. After about 20 months, is the longest I have every been away. Guinness remembered me fine, but Shaka seemed a little cautious and unsure. I spent some time in Sabah with my parents, hiking up Mt. K and just relaxing in KK. It was good to see my parents push themselves, and I think they were surprised by their success and determination.

With the help of my sis, I got certified as an open water diver and entered for the first time into the underwater world. It was a very intense and very moving experience. I was out in the open and yet felt confined, not in a bad way, but the contradiction tickled my mind in a way. I felt very alien in the water, and indeed I was one. The idea of another world so close to mine inspired me. I wanted to make one more dive trip before the end of my break, and I did. My sis and Ss made a dive trip to the Philippines. Destination: Panglao Island’s Alona beach. Another amazing travel to the underwater world, completed with laughably cheap rum, mango shakes and a tourist food. Of course, we saw the Tarsiers of Panglao too. Gremlins!

Later in the holiday, I spent some time on a farm in the jungle. “I am a farmer!” I declared. I had to declare. And I or you may laugh at first but it’s like flipping a switch in the head, and suddenly you’re more convinced of yourself. I didn’t care about the leeches, thorns and crazy billy goat and their attempts to ruin me.  I just wanted to work and the rain that stopped our progress started to get on my nerves. 

And in between these outings, I spent afternoons in the climbing gym and evenings at capoeira class. The group was great. People were chill, and really into the game. We weren’t required to wear uniforms or learn portugese. No one was judging and you played for yourself, played to learn and to have a blast. Others were helpful, teaching the new ones like me the moves and the history of the game. The music is so catchy too. The best part was the Bantus handshake. Slap fist shake. It didn’t matter if we knew each other or not, we would slap fist shake and be friends. It felt being a part of something. I started to lose some fats and got a little fitter. Oh yea, CARDIO! ABS! The pain.

I watch the Pacific range out the plane window. Wow. I should abandon ship now. Soon to land. And return to life of school. Though, this time it will be different, because I will be living away from school, in a livelier place.