Right now I'm sitting in my guesthouse room on a soft bed (by my adjusted standards anyhow) with a fan over my head. Earlier I took a hot shower, scrubbing myself down, and felt in the complete lap of luxury.
But I also feel weird here. Last night I couldn't even sleep between the sounds of traffic and the lights shining into my room. I am used to no more than the sounds of frogs and crickets and the light of the moon seeping into my room.
Today I just feel like a space cadet. I find myself moving at a sluggish pace next to the rush of the city. I suppose I realize that Chiang Mai doesn't have the rush of most cities, but it feels overwhelmingly sensory stimulating at the moment nonetheless. I find myself stepping back from it all and watching. Quietly. At a distance. Like I am currently incapable of being a part of it.
None of this really bothers me per se. For I do not live here, and it does not disturb to watch Chiang Mai as a curious outsider. Right now it is more than appropriate that the village/camp feels most like home to me or that other places feel quietly "otherly" to me. The village is my home for now.
Yet, as I write these words, I am forced to face the inward change. I've slowed down. I've quieted. I've poured myself into a new community, and I have changed because of it. There's no going back. This is my community, and these are my friends.
Eight days and I return "home."
But I also feel weird here. Last night I couldn't even sleep between the sounds of traffic and the lights shining into my room. I am used to no more than the sounds of frogs and crickets and the light of the moon seeping into my room.
Today I just feel like a space cadet. I find myself moving at a sluggish pace next to the rush of the city. I suppose I realize that Chiang Mai doesn't have the rush of most cities, but it feels overwhelmingly sensory stimulating at the moment nonetheless. I find myself stepping back from it all and watching. Quietly. At a distance. Like I am currently incapable of being a part of it.
None of this really bothers me per se. For I do not live here, and it does not disturb to watch Chiang Mai as a curious outsider. Right now it is more than appropriate that the village/camp feels most like home to me or that other places feel quietly "otherly" to me. The village is my home for now.
Yet, as I write these words, I am forced to face the inward change. I've slowed down. I've quieted. I've poured myself into a new community, and I have changed because of it. There's no going back. This is my community, and these are my friends.
Eight days and I return "home."
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