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Published On: Apr 26, 2006 10:02 PM
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Published On: Apr 26, 2006 10:02 PM
One Step Closer to Far From Here
Hi, guys. Me again. Sorry about yet another
personal entry, and there's no telling when I'll get around to posting it --
probably once I hit the States
again.
At this point just about everything is done; I'm almost completely packed, I've almost made certain that both members of the new team can use the computers (I do not understand why our Win 2k machines insist that someone has to have administrator rights in order to print, but it took me ages to figure it out), the two boxes of books have almost been carried back to the office, and I've almost remembered to take the Keeper of Seasons Hall banner down and stow it in my backpack. I'm doing that right now.
Anyone have any suggestions on cleaning heavy embroidered canvas? This banner has been from New Mexico to California to Kentucky to Kosovo to Kuwait to Iraq to Afghanistan and by the time it gets back to Kentucky again, it's going to need some serious cleaning. Mostly dust from the various areas of the Middle East. On second thought, maybe it's better the way it is, in some weird poetic "battle-scarred" sense. No idea.
So next stop is Kyrgistan; I'm flying tomorrow (by the time you read this it won't be tomorrow anymore). Kyrgistan is a small country that was part of the Soviet Union back when there was a Soviet Union. From the little I've seen of the people, they appear mostly Asiatic. Nice place. They jokingly refer to it as "behind the rusty curtain."
It still, after 5 and a half years of intensive travel, seems strange to talk this matter-of-factly about flying into the former Soviet Union. I never dreamed when I was sleeping my way through social studies class that I would one day visit all those places that I was failing to learn the names and major exports of. The names and locations would benefit me now, I suppose; I still haven't found a reason for knowing the major exports.
On my first trip out of the United States, I went to Japan, to Yokota Air Force Base in the Akishima district of Tokyo. I don't really know what I expected, but I remember thinking that it didn't look all that different from the United States -- this was no futuristic anime city. There were some differences, like the roads built in layers atop one another, but other than that it really looked a lot like the US.
I remember I was riding the bus from the airport to the base, and I surprised myself by falling asleep. I'd slept so much on the plane and was so excited that I hadn't thought I would ever sleep again, but the next thing I knew it was dark outside the bus windows and an SP was asking me for a copy of my orders. Stupid stupid stupid! I'd packed them all in my luggage underneath the bus, and had to get off and pull them out.
Anyway, what I was getting at when I first got distracted with telling my Japan story (I could go on and on -- the amazing toilet in my hotel room, the freaky lights under the bed, puzzling out the menus, the squid jerky, and white water rafting the Tone River), was that I remember that every now and then I would be doing something perfectly normal like walking back to my room from the Food Court, or getting into the wrong side of the car for the 50th time, and it would suddenly hit me all over again --I'm in Japan! Literally, I remember I would just suddenly think that, and realize that I was actually having all those adventures I always hoped I would. In my memory, I was filled with the kind of elation that inspires the Snoopy dance. I don't think I actually did it, but I might have.
Today, maybe I'm a little more jaded. Or maybe the places I've been in the past two years -- Kosovo, Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan -- just don't inspire the Snoopy dance. Maybe I've been away so long that just being back in the States will inspire it. And maybe, if I do it in a public place, people will throw money.
Take care everybody. I'll see you soon, or at least have another post up.
At this point just about everything is done; I'm almost completely packed, I've almost made certain that both members of the new team can use the computers (I do not understand why our Win 2k machines insist that someone has to have administrator rights in order to print, but it took me ages to figure it out), the two boxes of books have almost been carried back to the office, and I've almost remembered to take the Keeper of Seasons Hall banner down and stow it in my backpack. I'm doing that right now.
Anyone have any suggestions on cleaning heavy embroidered canvas? This banner has been from New Mexico to California to Kentucky to Kosovo to Kuwait to Iraq to Afghanistan and by the time it gets back to Kentucky again, it's going to need some serious cleaning. Mostly dust from the various areas of the Middle East. On second thought, maybe it's better the way it is, in some weird poetic "battle-scarred" sense. No idea.
So next stop is Kyrgistan; I'm flying tomorrow (by the time you read this it won't be tomorrow anymore). Kyrgistan is a small country that was part of the Soviet Union back when there was a Soviet Union. From the little I've seen of the people, they appear mostly Asiatic. Nice place. They jokingly refer to it as "behind the rusty curtain."
It still, after 5 and a half years of intensive travel, seems strange to talk this matter-of-factly about flying into the former Soviet Union. I never dreamed when I was sleeping my way through social studies class that I would one day visit all those places that I was failing to learn the names and major exports of. The names and locations would benefit me now, I suppose; I still haven't found a reason for knowing the major exports.
On my first trip out of the United States, I went to Japan, to Yokota Air Force Base in the Akishima district of Tokyo. I don't really know what I expected, but I remember thinking that it didn't look all that different from the United States -- this was no futuristic anime city. There were some differences, like the roads built in layers atop one another, but other than that it really looked a lot like the US.
I remember I was riding the bus from the airport to the base, and I surprised myself by falling asleep. I'd slept so much on the plane and was so excited that I hadn't thought I would ever sleep again, but the next thing I knew it was dark outside the bus windows and an SP was asking me for a copy of my orders. Stupid stupid stupid! I'd packed them all in my luggage underneath the bus, and had to get off and pull them out.
Anyway, what I was getting at when I first got distracted with telling my Japan story (I could go on and on -- the amazing toilet in my hotel room, the freaky lights under the bed, puzzling out the menus, the squid jerky, and white water rafting the Tone River), was that I remember that every now and then I would be doing something perfectly normal like walking back to my room from the Food Court, or getting into the wrong side of the car for the 50th time, and it would suddenly hit me all over again --I'm in Japan! Literally, I remember I would just suddenly think that, and realize that I was actually having all those adventures I always hoped I would. In my memory, I was filled with the kind of elation that inspires the Snoopy dance. I don't think I actually did it, but I might have.
Today, maybe I'm a little more jaded. Or maybe the places I've been in the past two years -- Kosovo, Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan -- just don't inspire the Snoopy dance. Maybe I've been away so long that just being back in the States will inspire it. And maybe, if I do it in a public place, people will throw money.
Take care everybody. I'll see you soon, or at least have another post up.
Posted: Sun - April 18, 2004 at 04:12 PM