Day 0 - Oxford! I've Missed You!

Nice. Sitting here on the sofa at Simon's house, one of my closest friends from Haiti. His lovely girlfriend Jodie (also in Haiti, and also bad ass) met me at the bus station yesterday after I took the Oxford Tube in from Marble Arch in London. So great to see them both. I didn't realize I was as lonely as I was. I do have people I know in London, but for whatever reason I opted to basically just do my own thing. I saw M twice. The first time was wonderful, as I wrote about earlier, but (and I suppose I should have expected this) it reminded me of why I love that girl so much to begin with, so when we saw each other again, only briefly, it was harder. I can't fake it with her, and she can see through it even if I try, so yea, coming back to an empty apartment was hard. Thank god for great friends. I spent the remainder of that day and night (and very early morning) talking to Max, Dan, Leslie, Cassie, and my brother via Skype. People I can turn to when things get rough. Still, at the end of the day, amazing friends or not, it hurt. London felt very heavy.

But then you make moves, and things shift around a bit. I saw my friend Miriam, whose apartment I was staying in, and that was great. Got to catch up with her about life and Yelp, my old company that she still works for. It was a lot of fun. Then I packed up all my stuff and headed out en route to Oxford. At the Marble Arch station this funny old man took an interest in me when he heard my accent - "Where is that accent from?". "American." "American!?" He was genuinely excited. So he stepped away from his walker, took a seat next to me on the bench and started to talk to me about his 'connections'. Apparently he had contacts in Mobile, Alabama, and Atlanta, Georgia, and other places in the South. He had been to New York, so we shared that in common. He'd been to Las Vegas. Every time he mentioned a place he'd been in the US he asked me if I'd been there. For many of the places in the South, I hadn't. It is an area of the United States I really haven't covered much ground in. Every time I conceded to him that I hadn't been to a locale he'd been to, he got really excited. "You haven't! Hahaha! I have, I have my connections! I have my connections, maaate". That's how he said mate, a long drawling mess of a word that he used after almost every sentence. So yes, he had me beaten in the Southern department but as soon as he mentioned Las Vegas, I was in my element. The West is mine. "Have you been to Las Vegas?" "Many times." "Oh really maaate?" Now it was my turn - "Have you ever been to California? "No, maaate." "How about Oregon?" "No, maaate." "Washington? New Mexico? Idaho? Wyoming? Montana? Arizona?" I was clearly playfully teasing him. "No maaate. No maaate. No maaate." We laughed. He brought it back to the South. Asked some funny questions: "There was a war there right maaate? A big one right maaate?". "Yea, the Civil War." "That's it maaate! The Civil War! Who won that maaate?". "The North." "The North. Right. Right maaate." Such a character. I couldn't help but laugh. Eventually he opted to move along. I asked him his name. "Mobile, Alabama maaate." Perfect.

After a relaxing bus ride into Oxford I connected with Jodie, which was great. Such a big hug. We headed to the house she shares with Simon, in the Oxford suburb of Barton, and dropped off my bags then did a quick pitstop at a kebab shop (yes!) and a supermarket to grab some beers. I'd forgotten how rich kebabs can be. My stomach wasn't quite sure what to do. I've really not eaten a whole lot of heavy foods since Haiti. My body can't handle it the way it used to. To top it off, Jodie, being awesome, made bangers and mash, which I also devoured but definitely paid the price for it - an upset stomach for most of the evening. We settled in on a makshift bed of sorts we built in the middle of the floor out of sofa cushions, both of us exhausted - her from work, me from lack of sleep - and put on an Aziz Ansari stand-up skit I like. We laughed. A lot. It was perfect. Before too long we were both out.

(Unfinished post.)

Day 0: Nikon D3100

I have no idea how to use this thing!

Day 0: A Breakdown On Baby Doc's Return

Here's a great breakdown of why Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier, a one-time dictator that has been exiled from Haiti for the last twenty-five years, may have returned:

On The Goat Path - Dissecting Duvalier's Return

On The Goat Path is a great blog that anyone interested in Haiti should follow.

On an unrelated note, people have asked me what's with the "Day 0" in my titles. Pretty simple really - when I'm out doing a project I feel is worth writing about and is about more than just me and my life, "Day 0" goes away and the time I spend doing that project is tracked, starting with "Day 1". Haiti, for example, ended on "Day 201" because that's the day I left. Think of "Day 0" as my holding pattern - keeping you guys up to date on what I'm doing while acknowledging that it really doesn't have much to do with anything greater than my own life. At least that's how I think of it, maybe it's all ridiculous and unneeded, but hey, this is my blog. In the immortal words of Cartman - "I do what I want!".

Day 0: London

And just like that, life reaffirms.

In London. Got here earlier today, after a pitstop in the Reykjavik airport. Stupid jetlagged and happy. Saw she who I most wanted to see, sick to my stomach with the buildup, and there was no need for it - it was wonderful. Clarity comes in funny ways. This one was simple - if we're apart, we don't work. If we're together, we work. Beautifully. Nothing on paper changes in regards to what is happening in our lives. The timing is still off. We still have to say goodbye in three weeks. And that's OK. I know now that, despite time and distance and lives unfolding independently, when we overlap, we're good. Better than good. It's something unique. We had it in Haiti. We still have it here.

That means more to me than I can express. I sleep tonight with a smile on my face. Tomorrow, it's time to enjoy the hell out of this city, and this country.

Day 0 - Transitions

This last week has been a very strange one. I'm once again sitting on my friend Helen's couch, having just come back from crashing with another friend of mine after a night of karaoke in the East Village. The XX's song "Intro" and its bootleg remix is on loop. Good stuff. Feels appropriate right now.

I saw a lot of friends I hadn't seen in a while last night. "So tell me about Haiti." "How was Haiti?" "If you had to sum up Haiti in a word, what would it be?" "You survived! Welcome home! Gotta feel good to be back."

Home. Nope. Not here anyway. Not anymore. And I can't possibly sum up Haiti in a word. I can't sum it up in a sentence. I can't in a paragraph. I could write a ten thousand word blog entry and I still wouldn't get it. You just can't. It is part of me. I don't even understand it. I can just feel it. My friend and old coworker Deena perhaps nailed it more than anyone else. "You're not the same person you were before." No, I'm not. I mean, I feel like me, I can still go through the same motions as me, but there's something deeper in there, something rooted. That is new. It's as if I've found my center. I have a place to plant my feet in myself. I don't have to play the old game of "Be what you think they want you to be." anymore. I'll just be. Me.

And in good time too. This seems to be the period for me to deal with all of those parts of my life that are needing something akin to closure. I'm saying goodbye to the life I led before this - I'm not going back to it. New York City is not my home any more. I don't have a home any more, and I'm OK with that. I want my home to be in the projects I commit myself to, and the people I try to help. I don't know if that will work, but home seems much more there than here.

I also have to force myself to fall out of love with the girl I am still in love with. It's painful, but needed. Out of respect for her and our privacy I won't go into details, other than to say the timing wasn't right. Things could be different had I chosen to relocate to London, but I didn't, and I won't. I need to continue to try and become a man I respect that is doing something he deems to be worthwhile in the world. Loving her and treating her well makes me happier than anything, but I can't do that and chase my better self at the same time. London isn't where I'm going to find me. I know that. So does she. I don't know exactly where I'm going to find me, but it will be out in the broken places. Haiti showed me that. So, out of respect for her, and myself, I have to let my love for her go. It's too intense. It is disruptive in my life now, and I'd imagine probably in hers as well. I leave for London tomorrow on the flight she booked for me four months ago with hope of closure. I'll see her. And when I do, I hope I can be a man I respect, and a man who earns her respect. Being in love with her has been a defining aspect of my identity since I met her five months ago, even despite not having seen her since September 25th. It isn't going to be easy to let that go, but I know when I do I'll create space. I wanted a blank slate in doing this work. I wanted a chance to reinvent myself in an image I respected. Letting her go will help me get closer to that place, because I know she needs me to, and because I need me to, and because I want to do right by the both of us. I can never erase her impact on me, and I never want to. She reminded me that I am a man who is happiest when he is in love with someone and making them happy. She showed me that I'm ready to abandon the idea of going it alone, should I find that rare someone who wants to walk a similar path, and wants to walk it with me. In some way, she helped me become more of the man I want to be. I'll forever be thankful for that, and for her. Mesi belle, por todo que tu me has dado. Te quiero. Anpil.

I bought a new camera. It takes pretty pictures.