stray 23March04 - Part three of four.
I have arrived, I am home. My destination is in every step.
I went to a dowsing workshop and that’s a weird story too. Guy in
Nelson
was like, I do dowsing. I was like, I’d like to learn that. He was
like,
alright but we both forgot about it. Mate of my father’s we stayed with
in
Golden Bay had a dowsing book on his bookshelf, I flipped through it.
Driving to a street party in Takaka that night we passed an old shed
and
Alan (my father) was like, got your file? I was like, sweet, and
retrieved
my trusty Leatherman (tm). Alan cut two bits of number eight fencing
wire
(classic) and bent them into dowsing rods. I hid a twenty cent piece in
the grass and he found it first try. Incredible really. Went to the
party,
watching an act and I’m all like, I want to practice dowsing tomorrow.
Woman passing at that exact moment was like, dowsing? What? I’m off to
a
dowsing workshop tomorrow morning, leaving now, staying in Nelson,
wanna
come? I was like how much? And she was all, sixty bucks. I did the
thing
where you whistle backwards but Alan was like, I’ll pay. Sweet, I was
like. Went (would’ve been a spit in the eye of serendipity not to),
stayed
with woman who turned out to be an old friend of the family’s,
attended,
dowsed.
Actually the workshop, which was like nine hours long, turned out not
to
be too much about dowsing and more about how the use of it pertains to
global energy line flows and Maori migration patterns and myth. Very
interesting and we did learn the basics (I was the only one there with
my
own rods) and I sort of got it to work, maybe.
I haven’t really stuck with it, but it’s a good skill to maybe hone
someday.
And more weirdness, but this time bad stuff. I had a dream my sister
showed up and said something had happened but it would be ok. I got a
bit
freaked out. Then I couldn’t get hold of her for a week and a half and
ended up ringing from here to make sure everything was ok. It was,
nothing
had happened. Yet.
Mid writing this I get an email from her saying she’s hit a car and
taken
a header off her bike, emergency room but nothing too serious.
Ok, let me just say this for the record; I’m not saying I can, based on
one event, but I DO NOT WANT TO BE ABLE TO TELL THE FUTURE. Seriously.
If
it’s bad stuff its just going to terrify me and if its good I’ll have
been
assuming it was coming anyway. I do not want to be able to tell the
future.
I don’t believe in the existence of the future anyway, so it can just
fuck
right off.
Chapter three,
Being entitled “Such sweet sorrow.”
Or
“The fine art of saying goodbye.”
I think it was Shakespeare. It sounds like something he’d say. Parting
is
such sweet sorrow. That’s exactly what it is. Exactly.
Sorrow because you’re not going to see them for a while, quite possibly
ever, sweet because in that moment everything good you feel for that
person comes to the surface and you realize just how much you actually
care about them.
It is the worst thing about traveling, without a doubt. I think I’ve
mentioned this before but I’ll go through it again. It can get so bad
it
actually prevents a lot of people from traveling at all, and cuts short
many travels of people who find they simply can’t bear being away from
the
people they love. I can understand that, but don’t suffer it so. Its
not
the being away that’s so bad, it’s the build up.
There are a few techniques I use and know of.
The goodbye party. Good because you get to get it all over at once, and
everyone’s drunk. If you miss actually saying goodbye to a few people
(perhaps because you were curled up in the hot water cupboard above the
bathroom) then at least you can assume the goodbye was inferred in the
party itself.
The just suddenly not there anymore trick. Canadian friend of mine was
a
big fan of this, though I think it can be a little harsh. Where’s
Daniel?
I… don’t know. Actually. Now that you mention it I don’t think I’ve
heard
from him in ages. People can get a little hurt if the first they hear
about you suddenly being in another hemisphere is a group email.
The one by one hug and promise of contact through regular writing. Not
a
lot to be said for this one though its almost always what ends up
happening. Email softens it a bit, but it’s a chore.
Take everyone with you. Wouldn’t that be nice. Until you got sick of
them.
The I’ll see you soon. This is a good one. Make mutual plans for months
down the track. Then it’ not really goodbye, just a catch you later
when I
have some more amusing anecdotes. It’s even better if it actually
happens.
So goodbye, all of you, and hello again. Thank god for email. Photos
are
good too. I carry you all with me (well, ok, not all, since it turns
out
some of you on this list I’ve never even met) but you know what I mean
because I know you do it to. We’re travelers all of us.
I have arrived, I am home. My destination is in every step.
Speaking to people recently I’ve decided that Hawaii is somewhere I’d
like
to spend more time. But they weren’t talking about Honolulu. Honolulu
sucks. It was night when I flew in and out and I was only there for one
day, so I didn’t get to see anything much else than the city, and it’s
a
dive. One big mall and housing complex, with a forest of gaudy hotels
for
a little visual variety. And full of Americans, the bad kind. I asked
four
people the time and two completely ignored me. There was a fake
waterfall
out front of one mall, but I guess water in its natural state isn’t
perfect enough, since they’d dyed it bright blue. Little things like
that.
I paid my respects to Pele and found a hostel. I had been expecting a
massive hassle getting through customs, fingerprinting and background
checks but it was actually about the easiest border I’ve ever crossed.
They had the id checking gear set up at passport control but weren’t
using
it. The woman looked at my passport photo, looked at me, asked me to
remove my wooly hat and said ‘this doesn’t look like you’ then waved me
through.
The old dude with the crew cut and handgun was like You got anything to
declare? No. No alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing? No consumables of any
kind. He fixes me with his beady little eye and drawls You sure now?
You
bet. Ok, next.
Spent most of the day sitting under a palm tree on the beach eating
mango
and reading The Beach. Slight irony but it mostly just made me think of
Malaysia.
Left that night for my annoyingly short to be leaving at that hour
flight
to Vancouver. Got a shuttle and made transit friends with an Italian/
Torontan girl who was hoping for a standby. That’s an air travel thing,
not something sordid. We hung out until we got on the plane and then
lost
track due to the seating arrangements and I didn’t see her again.
That’s
what transit friends means.
It was five thirty am local time when I arrived in Vancouver and I had
maybe three hours of sleep in me, needing more. Crossing immigration
was
again no problem and my working holiday visa got stamped in without
them
wanting to see anything like bank statements or other incriminating
documents.
Caught a bus into town and fucked it up a little because I didn’t
realize
it was town and ended up looping all the way out again like Haley’s
comet
and had to swing back and take another run at it. Didn’t cost me as the
nice bus driver lady slipped me a free ticket since I obviously had no
clue about anything.
Hostel. Slept the whole damn
day.