Which is saying something.
It's been pouring since early this morning and looks as if it will continue for the rest of the day. I'm afraid I've been out of the UK for long enough to consider this kind of weather downright dismal and not worth going out in.
If Boy were here, he'd make a cup of coffee, grab his umbrella and go for a walk. And I'd probably trudge out the door after him because I wouldn't want to feel left out. Or like a wimp. I'd probably have a good time, although I'd whine about the weather to tease him. Then he'd probably make that goofy grin and do that hop-heels-together thing with his umbrella in the air. Without even spilling any of his coffee. Which would probably still be full, because Boy takes forever to drink anything.
Probably.
I don't have much to write or many pictures to share, as the last few days have been uneventful. Peaceful, soothing, quiet autumn days. We spent an evening at Sabi's, playing with Larissa and discussing pros and cons of Americans and Slovenians.
Sabi asked me if there was anything about America that made it special. Something positive America does that other countries don't do.
"Ummm...." I delved into all the dark recesses of my brain in search of something positive. "I mean, I'd like to say that we're really great at freedom of speech, but I just read an article about two journalists facing jail time for their coverage of the Dakota Pipeline protests," was my weak response.
Gosh, whenever I think about the US, I only consider all the ways I dislike it and how I hope to never live there again. I think about our deplorable healthcare system and how we cripple students with debt. I think about how the government subsidizes corn so that the cheap food is the unhealthy food. Soda, candy bars, Doritos. Anything with corn.
I think about the homeless kids I worked with and how well acquainted I became with a justice system focused on punishment and not on rehabilitation. I think about the highly conservative religious families with eight kids who tell their daughters they can't leave home until they're married and who refuse to let their children learn anything about evolution, sex or other religions.
Over forty percent of Americans still believe that the earth is about 10,000 years old.
Forty percent.
'Cos "Dinosaurs were just put there by God to test us."
I think about all the mortifying ways we abuse the environment for the profit of a few... how we treat the earth like everything is linear. Like nothing will come round full-circle. Like we'll never have to reap what we sow.
I think about the inexcusable lack of public transportation. The wide roads through sprawling cities with monstrous vehicles and people who don't know their neighbors because they only see their cars.
McDonald's. Starbucks. KFC. The chains I find in every country I visit and whenever I see them, my heart breaks a little.
I think about the fact that over fifty percent of Americans don't even have passports. And that people complain about ATMs with Spanish options or seeing "Empujar" and Push" on the glass door of a mall.
I want to shake these people by the shoulders and yell, "learning a foreign language is good for your brain! It's an OPPORTUNITY to grow and become a better person and think about life differently! SO STOP WHINING AND START BEING A BETTER PERSON!"
I think about foreign policy, the enormous military budget, the --
I think about a lot of things. None of them are good things.
"There has to be something good," Sabina pressed.
ARGH.
"In Slovenia, we have a joke," Andrej joined the conversation. "You find a genie, and he tells you, "You can have one wish. But whatever you wish for, your neighbor gets double."
"Okay," the Slovenian says, "take out one of my eyes."
"In Slovenia, if your neighbor has a cow, it doesn't make you want to have your own cow. It makes you wish the neighbor's cow was dead," Sabi added.
"Huh... well, maybe in the US the mentality is more like, "he has one cow, so I'll get three!" I also think that something that maybe makes us unique when compared to some other developed countries is that we don't have a lot of history. We can't really look back to anything... I mean, if we looked back to our history, it would just be, "LOTS AND LOTS OF GENOCIDE!" We're not rooted in tradition, history or anything like that. Which might give us more freedom to create. We're a country of people who are always trying to invent or to be the next big thing."
Which I think we've taken to an unhealthy extreme. But we're not like Verona. A city held captive to its past, buried alive by its history.
We ended the discussion with a quick, "these are just the stereotypes," and "this is just my experience."
"Not all Slovenians are like that," Sabi said as Andrej and I put on our shoes to leave.
"Of course they're not," I smiled at my lovely friend who'd so generously fed me prosciutto and cheese all evening. "If they were, I wouldn't be spending an entire month here."
Andrej and I attempted an afternoon jaunt to a nearby castle yesterday, but the BMW (whom we've named Malkovich) started acting up, so after taking it to a nearby mechanic, we rerouted to Skofja Luka.
Which also has a castle. Castles are not rare commodities in Europe, turns out.
During these quiet, peaceful days, I've spent my time practicing yoga, drinking tea, listening to Sam Harris, drinking coffee, reading Daniel Siegel, wanting to pour myself a shot of whiskey from the bottle next to the tea kettle, but ENGAGING WILL POWER and just making another cup of coffee instead, and trying to sort through what I'll be doing for the next few months.
I have a basic plan, every bit of which is subject to, you know, life.
Andrej and I will leave for Pula on the 30th (right after he runs a marathon. Like you do) and will stay there until the 2nd of November. Then my friend will drop me off in Zagreb, where I'll volunteer with a woman named Matea and her two kids for about a week. Just helping out around the house, being that extra set of hands.
After that...
November 10th-15th -- Banja Luka, Bosnia. I'll be staying with a fellow named Igor whose Couchsurfing "Philosophy" section says, "Still not sure I have one. But trying not to be an ignorant asshole is in my opinion a good direction."
November 15th-20th -- Mostar, Bosnia. I haven't got the faintest idea of where I'll stay, and I'm sure it'll work out. Like with all the other places listed below wherein I also haven't the faintest idea of where I'll stay.
November 20th-25th -- Sarajevo, Bosnia
November 25th-28th -- Peja, Kosovo
November 28th-December 1st -- Prizren, Kosovo
December 1st-4th -- Pristina, Kosovo
December 4th-9th -- Sofia, Bulgaria
December 9th-14th -- Plovdiv, Bulgaria
December 14th-15th -- Back to Sofia for my flight to --
December 15th --KATHMANDU! Woohoo!
I'll travel around Nepal for a couple weeks, then return to Kathmandu to attend a 10 day Vipassana meditation retreat, starting on January 2nd. For those of you who don't know about Vipassana meditation, here's a brief intro:
Vipassana means "to see things as they really are," and was taught in India over 2500 years ago by Gotama Buddha. Although this technique can be traced back to the Buddha, it is a non-sectarian method used to eliminate mind-clutter, focus on the present moment and (eventually) attain enlightenment.
Whatever that means. But you don't need to be any kind of religion or spirituality to participate. You have to be open, mindful and very, very patient.
In Vipassana, self-transformation is achieved through nonjudgmental self-observation. The idea is that if you are able to observe your thoughts as they occur, you do not become trapped inside of them, nor do you identify with them. So you sit for hours and train your focus on your breath as it enters and exits your nostrils. As soon as your mind wanders off to something else, like how you wish you'd bought one more pair of awesome pants in Mexico, you tell yourself, "Hey. Hey, Aimee. You're having a thought. That's not useful to you. You can let go of the thought."
And then you bring the focus back to the breath.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
But those pants were SO great... and they cost like, seven dollars in San Cristobal. If I had known that they didn't have such a great selection of comfy pants in Merida, I would have --
OOOH, you're thinking a thought. Let go of the thought. Imagine the thought leaving.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Just like we learn to balance through wobbling away from the center and returning to it, we learn to focus through our thoughts wandering and our mind consistently, non-judgmentally, beckoning us back into the present moment.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
This meditation is an experience I am absolutely petrified of. Spending an inconceivable amount of time sitting in silent meditation sounds like absolute torture for my brain and my body. But I think it's the kind of torture that will help change the way I process life. Change it for the better. So I'm gonna do it.
Then I'll spend another two weeks hopping about the least freezing areas of Nepal, eating lots and lots of dal and discovering what they eat in Nepal other than dal.
Then I fly to the Philippines to meet up with Andrej. We'll hang out for a couple weeks, wherein I will eat a prodigious amount of pork and my pescetarian friend will eat all the shrimp.
All of them.
After the Philippines, I'll have a month for myself in Thailand. I'll fly into Bangkok on the 17th of February, and flee Bangkok as quickly humanly possible, heading north to Chiang Mai. In Chiang Mai, I'll attend a three week training in Thai massage and then explore the surrounding area until I have to bus back down to Bangkok to fly to France.
March 17th - France. Somewhere. Who knows.
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