Day 0: Patience

9:22AM here in Cary, North Carolina. I'm writing this sprawled out on the guest bed in the guest bedroom of Leslie's house. I've been here a few days now, having left New York on Friday to take a healthy nine hour train ride down the coast. I love trains. They have a way of making you think and yet not think at all. Just lean your head against the window and watch it all roll by. It's nice, particularly when you find yourself in a place of over-thinking everything. It's a much appreciate respite from that.

But it comes back. I'll likely be dealing with it - this overactive mind of mine - until I'm sure I'm going to make it back to the work I want to be doing, and making my life mean something. That's going to take some patience though. A conversation I had with my brother yesterday made that clear.

I have a dog. His name is Mac. He's the coolest dog in the world.

Hi, I'm Mac, the coolest dog in the world.

For the last three years, Mac has been living with my brother in San Francisco, given I moved to New York to help open the Yelp.com office there. This worked for all parties - Mac got to stay with someone he loved, I had my mobility (even though I missed him) and Cort had a great dog to keep him company. About a month and a half ago Cort moved to Los Angeles and is currently living with my dad and stepmom while he works to save up some money to get his own place. Mac stayed in San Francisco with Natasha, my old roommate and Mac's adopted mom. Natasha, however, is gaining traction as a singer and performer so she's currently touring and obviously can't bring Mac, so now we're at a bit of a sticky spot. Long story short, Cort had originally told me it was time for me to come back and get my dog. I was planning on doing just that. Yes, it throws some wrenches in my plans for Nicaragua and the biosand filter project, as having a dog does limit mobility, but he is my responsibility at the end of the day, and I love him, so I need to do what needs to be done. Besides, in my head, I didn't see having Mac as a major issue in regards to that project. Instead of flying down to Nicaragua, I could just buy some crap truck, load it up with the gear I need for the project, and Mac, and drive down. That was the original plan in regards to the pooch. Another option has surfaced, however, and it is a better one. But, it is going to require me to suck it up, check my restlessness, and plant myself in Los Angeles for three months.

Cort wants to take Mac. He doesn't like the idea of me taking him down into Nicaragua. "If you want to go die, go for it, but Mac can't die with you." My brother isn't too keen on me driving through some of the grittier parts of Latin America, particularly Mexico right now, with the drug gangs. "If you can come to LA and get a place that allows you to have Mac for three months, that's enough time for me to get the money I need to get my own place that allows me to have Mac, then I'll take him and you can go." It makes sense. In the long run, I love Mac, but I know he'd make certain things impossible. I very much intend to go to grad school in 2012, very likely in the UK. Mac wouldn't make that very easy to do. I also intend to have a lifestyle that involves a lot of mobility. Mac would definitely make that difficult. By taking three months now to allow my brother to do what he needs to do, I'll be benefiting everyone in the long run. I can work some crap job and save money while I focus on my project on my off-hours, and try my best to learn some French (I have Pimsleur, Rosetta Stone and Fluenz installed and ready to rock). Mac can be with me instead of sitting in a kennel. Cort can get his finances saved up without feeling insane pressure to get out and get a place because of Mac. In the long run, Mac has stability, I have mobility, and Cort has companionship and peace of mind. It makes sense. I'm just going to have to be patient. Sitting in the United States is just about the last thing I want to do right now, but hey, sometimes you gotta pay your dues. I'm lucky for the fact that this one is obviously the right choice in the long run.

So yes, patience. Something I can be good at in moments, and something I struggle with in others. I woke up an hour ago and found an email in my inbox telling me I had a comment on one of my YouTube videos from Haiti. This one:



It made me smile, even if it did tug at heart strings. I miss Little Venice. I miss those people. I miss Marites' daughters. The little girl at the end of the video, Jenisse, is his youngest, and one of the coolest girls I've ever met. She loved me. She'd come and sit on my lap and we'd rap together. She loved my music. In the video, she just so happens to be sitting next to another one of the coolest girls I've ever met, Ms. Mathilde. Needless to say, she's missed too. That particular video was shot during the All Hands mustache growing phenomenon, hence all of us rocking ugly as hell facial hair. God bless it.

Yea. Miss it. Good memories from that place. Little Venice is also the spot where Caelin, Simon (in the video), Christina (in the video) and I got stuck during the torrential downpour in early August. That was hands down one of the best experiences during my time in Haiti. Such wonderful people. Jenisse was there, crawling all over Caelin and me trying to get warm and dry while we all huddled together. So beautiful. So real. It changes you. I got a fairly lucrative job offer from some friends of mine when I was in New York last week. I turned it down. It would involve staying in New York, working in an industry I simply don't have any interest being in, even if my wallet would benefit. "Sorry guys, I really appreciate it, but I can't. My heart's not in it. I can't stay here. I gotta get back out into it. The First World is a temporary proposition for me right now." It is. Besides, I got an email recently, the most beautiful thing anyone has ever written me truth be told, and in it it was made very clear that if I stayed in New York and didn't pursue my dreams, the person who wrote me that letter would fly over to New York and personally knock me out. Being knocked out doesn't sound like a lot of fun. I'll take the other option thank you very much.

So there it is. Patience. Planning. Perspective. I have to take a slightly longer view of this thing. What I want to do isn't complicated in my head. It's once I start to think of the many moving parts that the complexity of it starts to reveal itself. Truth be told, three months of being settled may be really beneficial for what I want to do in the long run. Make money, plan my project, learn French. Not the worst plan, and once it's done, my dog will be happy, my brother will be happy, and I'll have my mobility again. I need that right now, and I love Mac and Cort too much to put them both in a shitty situation because of my own lack of patience. Entonces tengo que tener paciencia. No va ser por mucho tiempo, y cuando termina, todos van a ser mejor. Hell, I may even be able to write that in French once it's all said and done.

OK, up and at it. Leslie and I are going to go play with tigers today. Leslie's much prettier than I am, even if I am a more substantial meal. Let's hope these particular tigers value aesthetic over quantity when it comes to their food.

Day 0: Adieu Angleterre

Wow. What a trip. I left Haiti knowing I'd likely need time to process, consciously or not, what the experience meant for me. I did, and I do, but now, being here for three weeks, it feels as if this experience, in some respects, has been just as intense and beautiful and challenging. It has nothing to do with England itself, unlike Haiti. It has everything to do with the relationships I have with people here. This, more than even Haiti, has been a lesson in intimacy. In many ways, I feel I'm very capable in that area, but this has been something of a wake-up call. Again, I can't go into details, which makes me question whether this post is in fact pointless, but I'm feeling it right now. Intensely. I just said goodbye to someone I got very, very close to here in Oxford. I'm in limbo now - unsure whether I'm going down to London to see another person I'm very close to, or whether I'm staying here and taking a bus to Gatwick tomorrow. I've almost hit a point where the feelings have gotten so intense they've burned out. It isn't numbness. I feel. It's more akin to resignation - the situation, by the nature of the thing, is going to be painful in moments. Accept it. Do everything you can to avoid hurting people any more than is unavoidable. Press on. Be honest. Always be honest. It's scary. Honesty can be terrifying. But you'll always know that you don't have anything to hide, and that others know where you stand. That's worth it.



See you tomorrow NYC. And we continue...

Day 0: Aristide To Return?

Well now this is interesting. First Baby Doc decides to come back to the country he ruled over as dictator for many years, and now Jean Bertrand Aristide, the twice exiled ex-President of the country, and by many peoples' accounts still the most popular political figure there, is perhaps considering a return? I'm not quite sure what it means for the Haitian people, but given the madness of the last year, I can't say it comes as a surprise.

My thoughts? Let him. Yes, his presence could be destabilizing. His party, Fanmi Lavalas, was barred from running in the elections by current President Preval. Bullshit, considering it is still very popular. To have him return could easily stir the pot, and generate an upswell of support from his base. Is that a bad thing though? If he truly is the people's choice, he should be allowed to return, even if it shakes up the system. It isn't a functioning system to begin with. I can't profess to know what he would be hoping to accomplish if he does come back to Haiti, but the reality is the Haitians don't have much in terms of leadership as it stands now. Hell, if Baby Doc is finding support from people he used to oppress, murder and steal from, it shows how desperately the Haitians want something akin to a steady hand at the wheel, even if that hand has blood on it. Aristide may be another option.

Once again, understanding Haiti proves near impossible. I can't help but love the place regardless.

Day 0: Moving Right Along!

My time in the UK is beginning to wind up, and that's a good thing. It's time for me to go. It has been wonderful to see old friends, get closer to new friends, and see the old haunts, but I really don't have any reason to be here other than to simply say hello and kick around, and I'm finding my social nature isn't the driving force in me at the moment. I'm driven by the desire to get the next project started. My professional nature? I don't know what you'd call it.

That said, being here has been helpful in the sense that it has given me some clarity into things I needed to get clear about, including the relationship I have with someone who has been the focus of a large part of my attention for many months now. Again, I intentionally remain vague on this subject, because it involves other people who may not be as forthcoming as I can sometimes be, but, for me, the clarity comes in the simple understanding that it is time to move on. My attentions need to go elsewhere. I want them to go elsewhere. Keeping them where they are only hurts people I care for, and I'm not OK with that. That was never my intention. I knew this before I came here, I wrote of it before, but being here close to her, and seeing her, has been harder than I expected it would be. It is one thing to understand something in your intellect, another entirely to have to experience it through your emotions. Emotions aren't governed by any set of rules, and they have a way of taking the best laid plans and twisting them. Proximity has a way of bringing emotions to the forefront. The two in combination can make a mess of things. To some degree, they have. I wrote before that I hoped I could come here and be a man I respect and one who earns her respect. I'm not quite sure I succeeded. It's hard to write that, but the truth is important to me. And that's all there is to say really. I don't want to write about it any more. I don't see the need to, as I know it changes nothing, and offers me no further clarity. I'll see her again before I go, at the All Hands Reunion party in London tomorrow. I think it will be a lot of fun. We still do really care for each other, regardless of the challenges. Then, in a few days, I'll leave England, and my focus will shift. It's a big, beautiful world out there, with many wonderful people to be met. Hell, I've met some of them here. So yes, it's time. Let's get back out into the thick of it again shall we? That is where my energy needs to be.

My partners in crime, Max and Dan, are still both committed to starting our project. It may no longer be in Chiapas. We're undecided. Hell, it may not even be in Latin America any more. There are many countries in the world, including some in Africa, that speak English as an official language. The only reason we thought to stick to Latin America was to avoid a language barrier, since I speak Spanish. Looks like we may not have to limit ourselves. I'm intrigued by Africa. Everyone I've ever talked to that I respect and has been there says it has something about it that doesn't leave you. They all intend to one day return. Sierra Leone, for example, is heavily English speaking (85.3% according to Wikipedia) and is clearly a country in need. Yes, security issues are likely much more real there, and need be taken into consideration, but Caelin (a friend I met in Haiti that is currently in Oxford studying) has been there in the thick of it and she's still around, with all four limbs intact at that! I'll talk to her about it today. Be good to get some insight from her. Anyway, the point is, the three of us (and James, back in Haiti) are still very much intending to make this thing happen. That makes me very happy. I can't wait to get back Stateside to link up with them and start to turn this idea into a reality.

But until then, I'm still here in England, and while I do acknowledge I'm ready to go, I also intend to enjoy the time and company of my friends here while I'm still with them. I've been in Coventry for the last few days, spending time with Paddy. Tonight, we're headed back to Oxford to rendezvous with his friend Lisa and maybe a few more people, and then tomorrow Paddy, Simon, Jodie and I head down to Londontown to see quite a few more friends from All Hands. So then, onto it...

Oh, but before I go, the history dork in me would kick my own ass (not that history dorks are really known for that) if I didn't share this: Coventry was heavily, heavily bombed during World War II. There isn't much remaining today to remind you of that except for the old cathedral. I went there the other day, to take some pictures. This struck me:

Then. Churchill walks the grounds.

Now. Tourists do the same.

Day 0: What Am I Doing?

What am I doing? That question has been running through my head since I left Haiti, but has intensified being here in England. What am I doing? What am I doing here? Floating around. Banging into people and places, sometimes in a good way, sometimes in a bad way. I'm hurting myself some, but that's OK, I expected that, but I'm also hurting other people I care for, and that I'm not OK with. It isn't intentional, but that's no excuse. This place of limbo - this place of total disconnect, in which I don't belong anywhere and don't have anything to put my talents toward - is humbling but also chaotic and somewhat volatile. I have huge reserves of energy that Haiti brought out in me that are simply sitting inside me at the moment, making even basic day to day things hard to do - sleep, eat, focus. I've been doing more drinking than I should. It helps sedate me when I'm trying to go to bed.

I don't write this as some sort of poor me confessional. I write it to simply be honest. A lot of people told me the time following Haiti was going to be hard. I knew that it had been for many people before me. Many of them came back to the project as soon as they could, which I imagine they did to escape the fallout that leaving the first time created in them. As my friend Kurt from Haiti told me upon his return - "A lot of people tell you how wonderful they think it is that you've put your life on hold to go help others. I realized that is totally wrong. My life was on hold. Coming here sparked it. Before I was just existing. Here I'm living." I get that. I know now why it can be so hard to leave. I know why so many choose to come back as soon as they can. I don't have plans to go back to Haiti. I have plans to start my own project with two close friends of mine, as I've written about before. For now, however, I must be patient. I felt like I'd need time off after Haiti, to kick around and see friends and just be. I'm finding that to be a dangerous proposition - simply being when in a place of upheaval and transition isn't a good thing. Having endless time with my own thoughts isn't productive, or healthy right now. I feel very torn, because I am happy to be here to see my friends, and, even though it can be painful, seeing M is also nice, but in some ways I wish my time in England was over. That I could skip ahead, enjoy North Carolina, see my family in Los Angeles, and then go. Get out again. Get lost in it again. Push forward again with purpose.

Purpose. That's it. It's like a drug. Haiti was full of it. I never even had to question whether what I was doing was worth it, or purposeful. Here, I feel its absence. Once you've found it, you can't let it go for very long. It has a funny way of reminding you you need to find it again.