I pick Damon up from the airport tomorrow, and then a week of frantic packing, both for the move and for Asia, and then that's it. Goodbye Vancouver. Goodbye city I was born in; goodbye city I was raised in. It's strange to think about it like that. I can be away, for sure. In fact, I like to be away from the city. But to know that in a week, I won't even live here anymore...well, I guess I'm trying to say I'm going to miss the city, and I'm going to miss my family, and all my friends. But that was the point, wasn't it? To move somewhere new, somewhere I've never been before, somewhere small.
I think it just feels a little overwhelming because not only am I moving, but I'm leaving for a winter in Thailand and India a week after that. Only a crazy person would move across the province, and then fly to Asia for the winter. Only a crazy person.
I'm really looking forward to everything again - I emailed Harpal in India about my stay in January, and I was really touched by the response. He got a current WWOOFer to email me with a description of how she's experienced staying there so far:
"Here the life is really quiet, this is a beautiful place where you can listen to the nature. As a girl, it has been difficult to go and have some work in the field (they didn't wanted me to spoil my hands) and in fact, I did some small cleaning, paint a badminton court and pick the roses. I have learnt a lot of things here, not only in farming but some Hindi, I'm doing some yoga in the morning (5.30am), I also wanted to see and learn about the production of cotton, which I did... In a more personal manure, I have learnt to take initiative as well as choosing my own work, my daily program and the way I have interacted with people here.
The philosophy of working here is, feel as home and act as home. Choose what you want to do, and do it, nobody is going to tell you all the time what needs to be done, explained on the very first day."
This was followed by an email from Harpal himself telling me I am welcome into his home anytime. You people can say what you will about poverty in India, and the culture, and you can tell me it's unsafe, and you don't want me to go, and that all of these horrible things will happen to me for being a white female traveller. And frankly, it's too bad you feel that way, because I'm sure some of those things are going to happen, and I'm sure I'm going to be in uncomfortable situations, and get stared at, and whatever else will happen to me. But that's part of the experience. I know Thailand is flooding. I know extensive poverty exists in India. Does that stop me? No, and why should it? I've never been in a flood before, and I can barely contain my excitement at getting to experience one first hand. It's not naïevity, either. Humans thrive in adversity. It's just what we do. The way I see it, I'm going to see the soul of the Thai and Hindu people at it's absolute best - surviving, not because they can, but because they have to.
And god damn, it's going to be fucking fun, because even if I'm crying because children I can't help are asking me for money, or I'm up to my thighs in floodwater, I'm still going to be lounging on white sand beaches, shopping for cheap cameras, volunteering with elephants, working on an organic farm, eating fresh coconuts straight from the tree, meditating at a Buddhist temple, or any myriad of things which catch my fancy during that three month stretch.
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