On Roots 02.27

We got profiled at the airport. Both Sophie and I were stopped and searched. They were looking for passive-aggressive types. They had dogs sniffing my bag. I was glad they didn’t bite mine off. I was shaken but Sophie bitch-slapped me and told me to man up. That helped. While we were waiting I saw the news on the monitor that poor Miga was beaten to death with a Bombardier torch in Yaletown. Vancouverites seem nice enough but they are so heavily caffeinated that they tend to be unpredictable.

later

An hour from Narita. I have never watched so many movies in my life. My favourite is ‘Where the Wild Things Are’. I loved the soundtrack and while it’s probably not the movie for everyone it is the movie for someone who grew up feeling ‘other’. So many of the fantasies and emotions are familiar territory– or were familiar. I probably won’t see another movie for three months so I guess that was my grist.

I realized about three hours into the flight that I have no capacity to understand the personal emotional impact of actions taken. Just to clarify; I do things and then I am suddenly struck with an unanticipated emotional reaction - I have undoubtedly romanticized the idea of the journey which distracted me from my reaction. Almost immediately after taking off my spirit momentarily tanked - I was going to miss some fixed things in my life very much. Kayla, Evan and Willow appeared in my mind, their faces as I saw them last – I experienced a mild physical shock - I didn’t realize how profoundly I am attached to them. Damn that cat. I briefly experienced a sort of dread - almost a longing which anticipates the time and distance that separate our seeing each other again. I reach out with an emotional thread to my loved ones and friends and determine to keep them close to me wherever we travel.

I thought of a new word for Nancy: marathong. No-brainer. I hope to see some dipthongs in Thailand.

later

landed in HCMC. It's a bazillion o'clock, haven't slept in about 30 hours and don't feel tired, just wired. It's warm and the night is funky in that urban tropical way - diesel, petrol, leaf-mould and something I've never been able to identify. The tocsin of moped and scooters outside the hotel - the punctuation of mechanical dialogue: 'make way', 'my turn', 'go ahead'. 'phuck you!' I will be making digital audio recordings of my envrions as well on this trip and posting those.

No photos worth posting, tomorrow I hope.