Matchingsocks’s Weblog

Some of you would already know this, so it won’t come as such a shock to you guys. But for the uninformed, this might come as a tad of a shocker to you, but here goes:

This girl is reconsidering her decision to go to grad school.

(Read: This girl might not go after all.)

To be honest, its been something that she’s thought about for a long time already. Questioning her decision to go as been happening not just in her tiny brain, but she has been asked by several close friends if it is really necessary for her to go. One such person is Staircase Master who questioned the real necessity for grad school outside of her to have her masters just to fulfill some UN work pay scale criteria since she already more than qualified for the job in question when one looks at job scope alone. He made mention that she might be better off taking the next two years and simply working to get more policy ground experience if she’s able to consider not working for the UN.

As it turns out, he’s not far from the truth. This girl has come to the realization that she cannot really work for anyone else other than herself. Sure, she does bit projects for The Father and stuff, but she mainly keeps her easy-going flexi-time lifestyle which she loves dearly. Sure, she has loads of projects from personal referrals- most clients don’t know she’s not with The Company anymore- but she still gets to keep her mild-travelust, moderate-corporate woman lifestyle which she is finding it hard to pass up.

And so, if this girl is not going to work for the UN- which would most likely see her working under some two bit dumbass that she’d hate and disrespect greatly- it begs the question of why she’s even headed off to grad school in the first place. Becoming a corporate animal at the UN? She might positively not survive the experience. Some friends have wagered she won’t last past half a year. Green Bra gives her two months. The mother gives her two weeks. The odds don’t seem to be in this girl’s favour.

In addition, her plate recently has been finding itself rather full from bit projects that have stacked up back to back. She’s finding herself oddly busier and busier. This is in spite of her putting off more and more projects. How that all adds up, she’s not sure; but she’s duly time entertained. And, of course, she has more stuff up her sleeves in terms of the things and new things she’d like to do: Like bringing in a new program to town for the fun of it.

So, should she still go?

This girl fully expected to be able to sleep in on a Saturday when The Boy woke her- unceremoniously at half past seven in the morning- to begin a “Quest for the Magical Eggplant.” He had designed- with her sisters and best friends- an amazing race type quest for her while she was away. She had fully intended to go shopping with Smelly Melly later that day, but it seems that even that was ruse to simply get her to block out the day! So, he presented her with a empty charm bracelet and told her she was to “go forth” and find seven charms which were stolen and spread across the land by an evil Wizard; for it was only when the charms were reunited would the wearer (this girl) be able to find the Magical Eggplant (The Boy). And so, still with sleep in her eyes, this girl was hurried out of bed and on to her magical quest.

The first clue led her to visit the Princess and the Pea (The Princess, who was still asleep- it was really early in the morning when this girl set off on this quest) who required her to give her a back rub before she would hand over the first charm: a doggy charm with a red leash.

The second clue led her to find the Sage (The Prefect- who was sleeping next to The Princess so it was geographically easy for this girl) who would present her with her next charm. After a hilarious fifteen minutes of bantering and The Prefect trying to sound valiantly theatrical and this girl having to make the little one breakfast, she walked away with her second charm: an old vinyl record player.

The third clue sent her to the airport in search for the bears: Smelly Melly (British Bear) and Onion (Bored Brute Bear). This girl got there ahead of schedule and bumped into Smelly Melly before she could “go into hiding”. Thankfully, she didn’t give this girl a hard time and handed over the third charm: a little luggage, complete with the cutest white tee inside.

The fourth clue suggested that Onion was at the Happy Place (MacDonald’s) and she oddly took a while to find him. Onion is not naturally into these games and it attests- as she was reminded time and time again- to how much he cares for this girl as a friend to be helping The Boy. He told this girl he was bored and she was actually made to buy him a magazine before he was willing to hand this charm over. She bought him a photography magazine stuffed unceremoniously behind the National Enquirer. He handed over the fourth charm: a pair of running shoes.

The fifth clue told her to venture forth to the tombstone in the orchard (it was a shopping center) to find the place where she should seek the Elfling at the place one would see Nigella and Jamie. With Smelly Melly by her side, this girl found her way to the cooking section (this girl and the boy cook alot together) which was wrong. It was the bookshop instead and there she found Zwieback who made her buy a cookbook before turning in the fifth charm: A set of cutlery.

There wasn’t a sixth clue but this girl was led to the artist section to discover a hidden charm box with her sixth charm nestled within: a dragonfly.

The following clue sent her across the island to the coffee and tea fields of Guthrie House where she was supposed to find the Wizard and Sorceress who were guardians of the last and most precious of charms. This girl racked her brains all the way there trying to figure out who this final pair was in vain, and true to fashion, there was no one she recognize! Smelly Melly got her to announce- rather loudly, might she add- to the sitting, bemused public that she was on a treasure quest and looking for the wizard and sorceress. Everyone there was duly amused as she went table by table asking. As luck would have it, she found them outside, sitting right in a corner.

The sorceress presented this girl with a necklace laden with many charms and this girl was tasked to pick which of them was the final charm. The necklace had about 10 charms on them, each with its own possibilities; this girl only had three guesses. She picked a horse shoe (because she and The Boy kinda got together at a horse stable)- which she was told was wrong. Next, she picked a car (because they both love cars)- which was also wrong. Finally, she picked a hot air balloon (because she always says that The Boy lives on cloud nine). The Wizard thought it was a sassy and funny enough answer and told her that the truth of the matter was that the final charm wasn’t on the necklace itself. It would later be revealed that her choices did mirror that of The Boy’s: he had tried to buy her a horse shoe but it was out of stock. So was the car.

The final clue bid her to know that “the bracelet was complete, the journey was nearly done, follow the cherub’s gaze to the place where two became one.” This was the same said restaurant where this girl and The Boy ate at the day they got together- a full circle. Only this time in the company of close friends (the Wizard and Sorceress were The Boy’s best friend and girlfriend whom she was meeting for the first time).

When this girl got to the restaurant, she was regaled with The Boy reciting his final lines as the Magical Eggplant and she was presented with the most gorgeous Kate Spade bag (the same said one she almost bought a few weeks earlier) and tickets to the Contender Asia Finals (the same said performance she almost bought tickets too a few days earlier).

It was a lovely, lovely gesture on The Boy’s part. He had apparently been planning this for weeks and had conspired with everyone else to make this “quest” happen for this girl. There were long discussions, a flurry of emails and loads of subterfuge to keep it from this girl.

And about the charms? Each charm corresponded with a milestone in the journey this girl and The Boy had made to get them together; so they were not only pretty, but meaningful. And while this girl is not exactly a charm wearing kind of person, they decided they’d add a charm to commemorate each milestone from now.

How lucky can one girl get? * beams *

This is to officially inform all of you that this girl has started a new category on this blog- and chapter in her life- called “The Boy.”

Those of you that know who The Boy is, good for you. Surely you’ve had your fun with your I-told-you-sos and your silly smirks. Smelly Melly even earned herself a tres nice dinner over this development. Having said that, this girl (and The Boy) are happy; and happy that you all are happy for them. Big hugs.

Those of you that don’t know who The Boy is, em, too bad? (Sorry!) Well, if you know this girl personally, you’d figure it out sooner or later and if you read her blog close enough, you’d figure it out anyway. If you don’t know who this girl is, then, well, its no water off your back since you don’t know who this girl is anyway.

There is a part of her that thinks she should sit and type their whole hilarious story from start to finish- it’d read, seriously, like a straight to video Hollywood love story; but she won’t. It really is a hilariously ridiculous story that no one in their right mind would believe. Besides, it will take too long and, honestly, this girl will never do it justice.

This girl is in a tres good place.

The Fletcher scholarship has been in for about two days now and only today has the reality of it all sank in for this girl. She is going to graduate school. To Fletcher. In August. For two years. She’d be reading her masters in International Law and Diplomacy with 140 other people from all over the world. In one of the best schools America can offer. And, she’d be on scholarship.

Its a big deal, this scholarship and over a long, long coffee chat with Eggplant Project today she told him why the scholarship was such a big deal. The fact is, when this girl first applied to grad school, she knew that she might have to pay her way through school and she was more than able and willing to do so. Then, as time passed and the reality to the magnitude of the financial cost of grad school started to sink in and then, she really, really, wanted a scholarship to take care of the finance burden that will be grad school. Because, the idea that she’d have close to all of ther savings wiped out when she graduates scares her to bits. Absolutely. Completely.

Now, Mr. Toesocks reasoned with this girl that the fees- which she can make by way of a loan- is easily recovered. And given the statistics on salaries of Fletcher graduates, this girl knows that to be true. But, its the idea that terrifies her endlessly: that she’d be at financial ground zero upon graduation.

Maybe she’s being silly thinking of things, namely money and grad school, in this manner. But she does and in her head, it makes perfect sense. Besides, the idea that they thought highly enough of this girl to give her a scholarship tickles her to no end. And makes her feel darn good about herself.

And she’d take whatever compliments she can get.

The day this girl left for Uganda, The family retriever decided to skip town too. The house is under mild renovations and so when her leash got untied, the family retriever decided it might be a good idea to go a-visiting places. She stayed missing the entire time this girl was a away; in the loving care- thankfully- of a family that took her in till she could be returned home. The family retriever, in timely fashion, came back just hours before this girl did and her shaggy ass tail was there at the gate when this girl pulled up.

The sisters have been running amok this past week; frantic out of their mind. Putting up posters. Calling places. Making pleas to the general public. The Family German Shepherd, who is madly in love with the family retriever, was besides himself: he was visibly sad, refusing to eat or drink much and generally mopping round the house flat out miserable. Even after she returned, he refused to leave her side, content to simply lie next to her quietly; though every once in a while he’d fall asleep and wake with a start just to check that she was still there.

Grad school feels a lot like this to this girl. Kinda like she was lost for a long time and it gave her a renewed sense of purpose. A seriousness of purpose. And every now and then, she’d wake with a start, cos she wonders- and has serious doubts- that she’d make it in. Then came the news that she did make it in- to the school she’s been wanting to go to since she graduated from college. And today, she learns, they are offering her a generous scholarship. Wow.

And so, this girl sat quietly in her room staring at the package- almost blankly- in part due to a severe case of jet lag, in part due to a serious, but necessary conversation she had just had (which went tres well), and in part due to the realization that grad school has become a reality. And while the prudent thing is to wait out for Harvard, this girl knows, deep in her heart of hearts, she’s already made up her mind. That in fact, she’d made up her mind of where to go the day she met with them months ago.

Sometimes the answer really is that simple.

This girl is back from East Africa! She’s posted all the blog posts she wrote while she’s there so you all can go take a read. They are a tad wordy, but the week she spent there was truly rich in such flavour, she felt- and feels- that she’s wiser and better for it.

This girl returned home to wide open arms, bigger grins and a white lilies, all wrapped in a pretty purple thing. What could be better? Its good to be home.

Over the course of her being there, she received more grad school news. Some good, some not so good, but all still okay at the end. This girl got into John Hopkins (SAIS) but not into Princeton. Truth be told, she’s neither surprised nor upset by the news. She’d always known that Princeton was a long shot- and it faced stiff, stiff competition from Fletcher; where her heart is oddly still set on. And in light of the schools she’s gotten into, she’d not have gone to SAIS either.

Basically, she’s still standing where she was. Waiting for Fletcher to send her their scholarship pack and waiting for Harvard’s reply- she’s, however, not holding her breath.

Its a funny feeling, really, this girl thinks, having to deal with so many new things all at once. Grad school adding a huge load on top of the many things she has going on in her life. And for the first time in a long time, this girl sat back to really take things in. It was a huge moment, an honest moment- a grown up moment.

And to you that shared it with her, thank you. She lucked out.

(This post was written in Uganda. This girl is backdating it.)

After an incredibly touristy day that began with American pancakes for breakfast, shopping at the local crafts market and riding botas through the city, Mr. Toesocks took this girl to the fanciest restaurant in Kampala, a Belgian-French place that overlooks the shanty landscape (which is oddly beautiful and captivating) and has the best food she’s had in a while.

Over her scallop appetizers- which she has to acknowledge were really hard to come by given the landlocked nature of Uganda, - he set out asking her, seriously, how she’s been. He’d been duly worried about this girl since her big crash middle of last year, offering to fly out to hunt and maime the Fisherman for her. Mr. Toesocks has been practicing martial arts (think Muay Thai and Jujitsu) for over 20 years, so she takes his threats very seriously, especially after he moved to Africa.

She told him she was doing really well, happy- which he concurred, having now had the chance to catch up with this girl face to face and hearing and talking to her. He told her that he cares for very few people in his life and this girl happens to be one of them and that she should always remember that. And if she needed, he’d be on the next flight out to “settle” stuff for her if she just hollered.

Mr. Toesocks gave her standard “Come to Harvard” speech again and settled for this girl waiting till end of the month to make her decision. He offered to help her settle into Boston (since her choices are down to Fletcher and the still elusive Harvard). In fact, he’s offered to drive her from New York to Boston after they do the necessary shopping for furniture and other home-things. And oh, he also said he’ take her shopping for Artic-grade clothes since it’s cold 10 months out of the year in Boston. And that she shouldn’t worry too much since he’d take care of things for her. It was an offer this girl could not pass up, and is thoroughly grateful for.

Many people have made that claim to this girl, particularly over the last half year. To be fair, she doesn’t quite believe most of them; but Mr. Toesocks? She truly and deeply does and she’s insanely grateful for their friendship. He’s a gentleman, respects her, respects her space, is protective of her and has the uncanny ability to make this girl feel totally comfortable around him. And, he thinks she’s one of the smartest persons he’s met-which, alone, makes him a keeper of a friend. (this girl will take compliments any-oh way they come.) She can’t wait for him to come by for a visit later this year so all her other friends can meet him. She’s decided to set up her best girlfriends with him since he’s one heck of a catch.

As the food plied on- this girl had a gorgeously tasty ham roll thing with cheese and he had a steak- he asked for a men update which reduced her to giggles since they took this time to recount her fan club page. They are going to post photos of them so he can say she came to visit the founder and president of the club. She finally got the chance to ask him what he was thinking doing up that page and he said, simply, he thought it’d make her laugh.

And sometimes, life can be that simple. Good friends. Good food. Funny stories. And if you throw in a foreign landscape, it makes it all the better.

(This post was written in Uganda. This girl is backdating it.) 

Conflicts in schedules, last minute changes and work commitments have shaved almost 10 days off this girl’s intended trip. She’s now due back Thursday; the Father is arranging the ticketing, thrilled that this girl will be home earlier than planned. He’s not so big on this girl visiting these “dangerous” places. Even if the fact is that Uganda is extremely safe.

This change in plans made this girl have to readjust her travel plans as well. She canned Rawanda; Mr. Toesocks said that not only is the journey long and rather tedious, the memorial of skulls is something this girl should pass on. It scars your soul, he says. Rafting the Nile also had to be canned because, one, she didn’t have enough time, and two, it really wasn’t that great since the weather left much to be desired. Same for the safari: one, that this girl has seen most of the animals in the safari (and its nothing compared to the South African one) and, two, the gorilla one was far too expensive for a non-guaranteed sighting.

So, today, they all made the day trip to Jinja, playing chaperon to two young love birds- kids of some of Mr. Toesocks’ friends. Oh, the wonders of young love!

Jinja, two hours out of Kampala is the tourist central of Uganda. Sort of, anyway. They set off early (seven in the morning) and drove to an eco-rainforest site to hike through a rainforest. It was pouring, the ground was muddy and it was musky. It wasn’t the most pleasant of time, and this girl would have slipped a few times if it weren’t for Mr. Toesocks grabbing her by the metaphorical scruff of her neck. Yet, it was oddly peaceful, in a very primal sort of way. They didn’t talk much, kept conversations to a minimum and whispered quiet observations to each other almost with a mystical quality reserved for pilgrims.

They took this girl on a boat ride down the River Nile, taking her to the source of the Nile: where the great Lake Victoria meets the mighty River Nile. It was an oddly calm sight, the morning storm having passed through. Standing by the side of the river- this girl didn’t dare to get too close for some reason- this girl was suddenly struck with thre realization that this was the same said river that was written about in the Bible. The same said river that baby Moses once floated down (the Egypt portion, anyway). The same river that has seen thousands of battles, fed millions of lives and witness many great world events. This is the mighty River Nile. It was a humbling moment, truly.

And that is the thing about Uganda. This girl has spent more time in other parts of the world, her home country included. Yet, she’s never felt she’s grown more as a person than the week she has spent here. There is a primeval quality to Uganda that she assumes is reflected all across rural Africa. Here, the same rules don’t apply. Here, the assumptions we make about people, their lives- humanity- don’t apply.

Here, there will always be impalas; the ones who graze the lands. And, in that same breath, you know, there will always be the cheetahs that will stalk the impalas. And just as you know the hyenas will come to steal the impalas from the cheetahs; the lions are the one that rule the roost.

That is the rule of the jungle, and that is the way of the land.

(This post was written in Uganda. This girl is backdating it.)

There is a story of a famous Japanese magician who won the right to sought out a great magician master to apprentice from him. Thing was, this magician master made this apprentices do some hard- and seemingly mundane- laborious tasks. For the whole of the first year, the apprentice would wash dishes for his master. Day in and day out, he would wash dishes. There were to be no formal classes from master to apprentice, but loads of dish washing.

The first year ran into the second year and there was still to be no formal magic training; instead, the apprentice spent his days going marketing for the magician master. Day in and day out, he would be sent of these repetitive- and seemingly mundane- mind numbing tasks.

The second year bled into the third year and, still, there was to be no formal magic training. This year, the apprentice was made to cook meals for the magician master’s entire family. Day in and day out, he would slave over the stove thinking up dishes and planning the menu for the family; a tough- and seemingly mundane- useless task.

This said magician master had many students that came to sought his apprenticeship. All failed to eek out the three years, most finding the repetitive and boring tasks on top of the no magic training a terrible waste of time. Except for this said Japanese apprentice.

Finally, after three years, the magician master called his apprentice and sat the man down and revealed the purposes of the three years of hard labour. The first year spent washing dishes was to instill in the apprentice the deep appreciation for taking care of tools. A magician has many tools and it is imperative that each instrument, however important or replaceable be treated with respect. For when you treat your things with respect, they respect you in return.

The second year, the master revealed was to train the apprentice in the art of negotiation and mediation; a core skill when one visits the market on a daily basis. Magic, the master said, require the performer to engage and manage his audience- however difficult they might be.

The final year spent cooking, the master told the apprentice, was training in being able to cater to the needs of each person in the audience. Everyone has their own tastes and food preferences, a good chef, a patient chef would best cater to suit the needs to each diner- all while not compromising quality and attitude. And this was the lesson the master wanted this apprentice to learn. Finally, the master declared, the apprentice was ready to learn his magic.

This true story was told to this girl by Mr. Toesocks who had the chance to meet this said same apprentice- today a Japanese magician master- the only one this grand master ever taught. Because, he had the dedication, teachability and attitude needed to truly master the discipline necessary to perfectly execute his craft. No cutting corners, no short cuts; but sometimes the deep understanding that hard work needs to come before greatness.

(This post was written in Uganda. This girl is backdating it.)

It’s the quintessential philosophical question: a train is barreling down the track towards a split path, on one track lies your mother, tied to the track unable to free herself, on the other track are five children, also tied to the track, unable to free themselves. You are the train station-master and you decide which way the train finally barrels down. You cannot stop the train in time, neither do you have time to free anyone, and you must make a decision: what do you choose to do?

Mr. Toesocks and this girl spent a long time discussing their lives, the choices they made in their lives and the consequences it bears. He says, we need to do the right thing, which is different from doing what we want, or what we need. Either choice you make as a train master is right- albeit for different reasons, but they’d both be valid. He gives the example of the Palestinians and the Israelis fighting over the Gaza strip, both have equally valid- and therefore right- arguments, and they are, unfortunately, mutually exclusive. Life’s funny that way.

Life is all or nothing for Mr. Toesocks. He tells the tale of this girl he is madly in love with- a girl, mind you, that he knows takes him for granted and is not a good person. But, he’s still madly in love with her in a way only someone who has been madly in love with someone else before would know. And he tells this girl that he’d give it all up- everything that he has, the recycling plant, his PhD plans, his everything, in a heartbeat if she’d have him. Life’s too short, he repeats, to not live life with everything you’ve got. Love’s funny that way.

So, this girl pushed a little more and asked if he’d give up his life’s vision for this said, same girl, even if he’d know that she’d up and leave him in two weeks. And he said yes, though he’d concede that he’d have to think very hard about it. This girl called him a romantic, he said, it was about impacting- or the chance to impact- one life so powerfully that would drive him. That while sometimes all you have is your life’s work, at others, it’s the life that you led that truly mattered.

It was an illuminating conversation to say the least. It made this girl truly think about grad school and all that she felt about it. Mr. Toesocks called it life’s social obligation. That if her two years at grad school could potentially save even one extra life, she was obliged to do it. It was her social duty to leave the world in as good a shape as she knew how from whence she got it. And she should not only go, but go to the best possible place she could get into in spite of money- meaning pay her way though if she had to. She asked him where and with the most flippant yet straight face, he said: Harvard. He mounted the most convincing argument this girl has heard yet (complete with nested loops, suggestions, NLP-ness) and, much to Smartest Friend’s rolling of eyes, she’s promised to take a serious look at Harvard if they do accept her.

Life, he looks straight at this girl and says with an intensity that has to come from a person’s soul, needs a seriousness of purpose which we ought to be singularly focused on and pursue with all the tenacity that we can muster. To go head to head with the best of them, believing full well that even if we won’t make it, we’d go down fighting to the death. Because, he echoes time and time again, life’s too short to not live in an all or nothing manner.

Wow.

(This post was written in Uganda. This girl is backdating it.) 

Mr. Toesocks lives the good life in Uganda. He’s got a live in man-servant, Peter who cooks, cleans and takes care of the grounds of his house. Judith, the maid, comes in every few days to clean and wash up after Mr. Toesocks. Oh, and Sular the driver who drives him everywhere. This is not counting the 15 other employees that answer to him. And then some.

This girl is not allowed to go to the market (that’s what servants are for, he says) and she’s not allowed to wash dishes and stuff (that’s what Peter is for, he says) and she’s not allowed to wash her own stuff (that’s what Judith is for, he says). She’s only allowed to cook a little (cooking’s what Eddie’s wife is for, he says. Eddie is his Chinese restaurant owning friend that lives round the bend.)

This girl is leading the very spoilt life here. Which she is fine with for now since she’s still very jet lagged. She’s never felt this exhausted over a flight before, even considering the 22 hours on board the plane to New York.

She spent the morning touching base with people back home and settling her new flight arrangements. (She’s returning early). The Father would have her return after a week, if he could manage it. He might get his wish seeing how her safari and Nile plans are scrapped. And this girl is needed back urgently on a project. Sigh.

This girl went to visit the recycling plant today, the first of five he has planned over the next five years. He plans to add one each year, all while pursing his PhD in neuroscience in London concurrently. Please let no one call this girl an over-achiever ever again, seriously. Its interesting, to say the least. Very, very cool, when this girl considers that her friend actually started and owns the freaking plant. (Oh, this girl has the coolest friends!)

Uganda, like most parts of Africa is highly color conscious: you are either white (Asians are considered white) or black. Even amongst the ebony colored, some are whiter than others. Its an odd thing for this girl to grapple with as she tries her hardest to make sense of Uganda, a land so steeped in history sitting at the cusp of a new world order. Friendly, the Ugandans lead a simple life; they work (at a frustratingly slow pace, Mr. Toesocks says) and they live- the average life span is just under 50 years old. This girl is past middle age here!

Mr. Toesocks- because he needed his afternoon siesta, sent Ama (the bora driver he always uses) off to take this girl to the market where she was mainly gawked at and the little kids wanted to touch her. This girl was a one-woman freak show. They don’t get many visitors and even though Mr. Toesocks is Asian too, one supposes seeing the female version is always hilarious to the locals. This girl fell back on what she knew best, talking to kids- the simple basics her time in The Other Land has taught her. She wished she had brought her Polaroid camera with her, then she would have an excuse to actually talk and get to know some of the locals; hear their stories, learn about their lives, who they are, how they live and about the person they aspire to be.

So for now, she’d be content to watch from a distance, say hi to the children and sit patiently as she waits for Peter to return from his trip to the market bringing this girl some oranges and mangoes.

(This post was written in Uganda. This girl is backdating it.)

This girl sits quietly in Mr. Toesocks’ living room listening to the odd sounds that is Uganda. The peaceful quiet interspersed periodically by the rumblings of a motorcar or lowing of the cattle that lives two doors down. Then the odd barks of his puppies as they play in the darkened garden, and if you strain your ears hard enough, the small sounds emanating from Peter’s (the man-servant boy) that lives in the little house at the back.

A far cry from the hustle and bustle that had been this girl’s life since she left yesterday, 7 unglamorous hours to Dubai, a 2 hour layover in the ever-busy, never ceasing Dubai airport, followed by another 7 hours to Entebbe, Uganda with a 1 hour transit at Addis Ababa (Ethiopia). The flights were more of less uneventful, thankfully. This girl slept most of the way, missing all the meals, rousing only to water up and nibble on the muffin she stowed away.

By the time she got to Dubai, it was barely six in the morning, and she had two hours to battle the crowd to buy Mr. Toesocks his TV and radio which she did rather easily since these Arabs and Africans find Asian girls small (read: helpless) and cute (so they are always readily to assist). By the time she bought the stuff, her shopping cart was taller than she was so the nice salesguy offered to help her get them to the boarding gate. He was even sweet enough to wait around with her wares while she went to buy a book (which she has yet to touch) and some food. He offloaded her stuff to the groundstaff who arranged for them to be checked in. Easy peasy.

It was the same thing on board the plane. This girl was easily the tiniest person on board, even counting the diminutive Korean stewardess. So all the men around (in the usual show of have muscle- will flex) were more than happy to switch seats, lift her luggage and such for her. Tres nice. Some tried to make conversation, mainly trying to pin point where this girl came from (Korea, China, Japan, Thai… they can’t tell them apart, really). At the 1 hour on-board transit in Addis Ababa (they weren’t allowed to disembark) all of the passengers left of the plane all sort of banded together to chit chat, celebrate a fellow passengers’ birthday, compare vaccination cards and discuss the finer details of malaria medication. She ended up settling into a cool-ass conversation with Joseph the philosophy PhD student-humanitarian boy who was headed to Uganda to teach for 4 months to teach in a UN mission school. All through the conversation, all she could think about was how much Green Bra would love this Heidegger-spewing, Sarte-quoting Irish boy.

Entebbe international airport is little more than a house outpost with one working luggage belt. Mr. Toesocks had to wait a little for this girl as she had to clear customs over his TV. She had to sweet talk the airport guy to let her just going already. (This girl is truly grateful for being a girl.) It was good to see Mr. Toesocks again. Conversation flowed easily, they caught up with each other’s lives and that of mutual friends. This girl learned that she won’t get to see the gorillas or the Nile since the safari was 8 days long and over $2k (plus a non guaranteed sighting this time of year) and the Nile meant having to drive through the currently unstable Kenya region. BIG Bummer.

Severely jet lagged, this girl crashed out after a home cooked meal of egg-drop soup, porridge and bananas. She fell asleep on the couch without washing up or changing. She barely registered when they set her up in bed.

This girl seems to be traveling a lot these days. And for that, she’s very, very grateful. She does lead the good life.

Pre-trip updates: This girl is being made to cut her trip short, from three weeks to two cos she’s got a cool ass project that needs to commence by the 25th. In fact, said project needs her to work a little while she’s in Kampala, Uganda. Perils of the working life. Sigh. But this girl leads a purely self sustaining lifestyle right now, meaning, she works solely to pay for her shopping and travels.

She’d like to leave a special note to the agents before she flies to say that she’s headed to go see the Ba’ai temple in Kampala since they refused to let her drive to see the one in Sydney even after this girl made multiple plea attempts. There are only seven in the world. She could have seen two of the seven if not for you three. (But she loves you guys anyway.)

Tarry ho! See you in Uganda!

This girl is T- 1 day to her great East Africa adventure where she really hopes to see a gorilla. Oh, and catch up with old friends like Mr. Toe Socks. She’s never seen a real life gorilla and she’s not had the chance to meet up with Mr. Toe Socks in years. She’s got her jabs, her ticket and a bag full of food for her host. The stash includes six boxes of Oreos, pancake mix, tea, 3 huge bags of gummi bears, loads of Asian snacks and some table cloth. She’d be picking up a TV and a radio in Dubai (she’s got a two hour layover). Yes, she’s bringing alot of things.

She’d be contactable by phone and email and she’d do her best to post as regularly on this blog as possible.

Yay!

This girl considers herself rather bright. Intelligent in some ways, even. If you asked her what she prided in herself, she’d tell you her relative smartness. Smarts.

But there are some things that she’d never figure out or really understand. There are areas that she’d perpetually flounder and find herself in a quagmire of uncertainty, questions and self-delusions. She avoids dealing with such things. She runs far, far away in the opposite direction because having to face these nebulous things she cannot handle well scares the daylights out of her.

She will run for as a long as she can from having to deal with somethings. Unless and until she’s made to confront it. Even if she did admit to Smelly Melly that she was right and gave her the right to say “I told you so!” to this girl. (Yes, Smelly Melly, you are such a genius. Happy now!?) This girl stands corrected and you were right all along. So there.

This girl will find a way to figure it out. She thinks.