Apply Yourself!

What is an application but an extension of my will out to the world asking it to please convert me into a working form of person. “I, Jay Ewert wish to become part of the machine!” I have spent days and weeks applying for various forms of employment now and I am getting just a wee-bit wiped by the effort it is costing me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I have written, called, promised, edited, faxed, emailed etc. just about everything that describes me to be a productive and professional worker, and yet, I do not feel fine. But, why not? Isn’t productivity toward a greater goal supposed to be rewarding in some internal way? Aren’t we, as animal by-products of our environment supposedly programmed to feel satisfaction from our work? I am led to believe this is true. However, I am not the farmer observing the crop he just pulled in, nor am I the fisherman that enjoys the frying of my prized catch of the day. No, I am the job-hunter in all his fury. I am the man with the resume hoping to unearth the direction of my future. I am the aspiring proletariate just waiting for his chance to make some mark on something at some point in the future so that I may respect myself in the mirror. I am every man’s moment before success or failure!

We have all been through this; the moments of pure agony that are the job-hunt. These are the times of futility that just might render opportunity should the fortuitous moment choose to present itself. Will the right person get this paper on their desk at the right time? Will they be looking for me or will I be able to convince them I am what they are looking for? The whole debacle becomes a test of ones persistence. I mean, how long can one person throw a wet noodle at a brick wall before they realize the futility of their situation? And yet my university has told me repeatedly that my situation is not futile. They tell me that I am a national resource ready to be fertilized and harvested. I am told that I will be successful. I wish they would tell my potential employers this. If only they knew what an educational asset I will be on their staff. But, that is my current vocation; to convince them and thus render harvest to my talents.

I am the man pursuing the plan. I aim to be an educator but first I must learn how to bring it about. And so I will stop procrastinating in the form of this online, whining blog, and get out there in the wide, virtual world and apply myself online. Maybe virtual brick walls are not as sturdy (and thus my wet noodles will shatter my adversity).

Ode to the Back-packer Haven of Kaosan Road

Koasan Road in Bangkok is an amazing place to be. All places that have been embraced by the sensuous yet bitter taste of tourism have a place such as Kaosan. A haven for the falangs that penetrate the culture of the locals, devour the scene and then leave in their wake a consistent trickle of tourism dollars to encourage the ongoing patronage of the locals.

Tourism is not a modest market in Thailand. Perhaps, once, Thailand was an untouched Kingdom, but now it is a contemporary nation of entrepreneurs consistently developing new ways of economic survival. One should expect that in any place dubbed the " entrepreneurial kingdom" that tourism would not only be present, but also be a quickly exploited means of revenue and ever-increasing business. And thus, Thailand has embraced tourism with open arms, and since, the tributary has become a raging river complete with rapids; and similar to rapids, the persistent and powerful flow is shaping the future of the river.

Koasan is a creation of these rapids. As falang flow into the capitol of Bangkok the demand for a haven carves out its environment. Koasan is a collection of everything that the average falang wants from varying levels of lodging, to restaurants and bars, to shops and entertainment. It is a colorful mixture of needs, wants and wishes ready to satisfy the wims of all who enter from the benign sight-seer to the venal sinner.

"Falang" is a term that means "foreigner" generally meaning "white and not from around here". I am certain that when the word "falang" is said little bells go off in a Thai person’s head that say "money, good times, and easy life". Perhaps that is why Thai people so enjoy pointing at us and saying it like a happily proclaimed label. Kaosan is a direct reflection of this. It caters to one's wants as a traveler no matter who they are and it encompasses good times and fun with an affordable price tag attached.

Kaosan Road is a very fun place to go be. I still remember the first time Cheryl and I ventured into downtown Bangkok and visited the glory of Kaosan. It was night and we were hungry and thirsty (two very good things to be when visiting Kaosan). We knew we were close because there seemed to be a backpacker element present as all the t-shirts being sold on the sidewalk were of various pop-culture icons from Bob Marley to Sesame Street. This place definitely screamed "good time-money-fun" and we hadn't even rounded the corner. And then we did - stretching before us was a street teeming with falangs from all over the world all milling about the small cart shops selling t-shirts, jewelry, simple stir-fry food, and almost anything a falang could want. Above our heads was a circus freak show of neon lights promising places to stay, drink, buy, relax, party, massage, eat, and every other service a traveler may wish to have offered. It was like walking into the backpacker’s version of Disneyland complete with mascots (I have never seen so many Thai people dressed like Captain Jack Sparrow trying to sell necklaces and dred-locks).

The aura of Kaosan is not unlike that of a street festival except that it extends down every alley and sidestreet similar to how a river breaks into creeks, tributaries, and streams. And all you have to do is follow the flow to any corner and you will find something interesting, satiating, or somehow entertaining.

Cheryl and I have spent many in-town weekends on Kaosan Road. We'll take a taxi ride into town and troll Kaosan and the surrounding tributaries taking part in various foods, drinks, and fun. There are young people, old people, and everything in-between enjoying themselves. We now have our favourite restaurants and inexpensive guesthouses where we like to stay. Our mental map of Kaosan grows with each visit. Over time we have discovered new avenues to walk down and found entire new ecosystems of markets and people to see and be entertained by. There is always another corner with more to see. It was only a week-and-a-half ago that Cheryl and I discovered what I have dubbed “Importer’s Alley” (which of course was a great find for two aspiring importers such as ourselves).

Kaosan is not only a great place to be but also serves as a great base of operations for both the training and the seasoned traveler. During the days we venture out to surrounding Bangkok such as the vast Jatujak weekend market, ancient temples, or the Grand Palace. Bangkok stretches onward in all directions with many places to see but Kaosan is a great place to start and finish,

I will miss visiting this place amongst many others when Cheryl and depart for Canada. So many little details that started with wonder have now become cherished and common place for us here. We have made ourselves a home complete with a job to work, an island to visit, and a place to eat and rest on the weekends. Kaosan is just one of many places I tip my hat to.

Homecoming is now (and isn't that nice?)

Being home has been a literal breath of fresh air. The quality of breathing is better than Bangkok could ever hope for and that’s just the beginning. Coming home is full of the little things one missed whilst away. I have missed many things from fresh air to the illusion of common courtesy. Honestly, only yesterday I wasn’t paying attention in line and noone even ran in front of me, they smiled and nodded me forward (how nice).

Yes, returning to Canada has its perks. In the last week or so Cheryl and I have already seen many friends and family that we were sorely missing and that’s emotional money for the spiritual piggy bank. It is good to be home.

But, homecoming also has its own bends and twists to it, like the sense that one is returning to a reality of sorts. The world is suddenly tangible again like a dream de-materialized to the moan of an alarm-clock. We sense the impending doom of searching for work and preparing for the future. So it goes.

The mindset is different, yet somehow familiar, but coming home has been an adjustment both good and bad. One thing I am having a hard time coming to terms with is moving from a decidedly Buddhist overall perspective to that of the neo-Christianized society of our emerging 21st century Canada. I immediately noticed that everyone here is in a hurry. People are always thinking of either the next moment or the last. What happened in the past is viewed as important somehow because it helped to shape the now. But the now is only important because it can help shape the future. The future is of course the most important because it is something to work toward, something in which to invest all ones hopes, fears, efforts, thoughts, integrity, emotions, planning, etc., etc. People in North America are so concerned about earning the salvation of the next moment it appears they forget to find the peace in the moment they are in.

Cheryl and I lived in a city of more than 12 million people for almost a year. Prior to our departure over the big blue I assumed that people there would always be in a rush with something on their mind. Television has taught me that big cities are places of rushing, struggling, and crashing efforts colliding in hopes of a distant form of survival, however, this was not so in Bangkok. Yes, the city was big and there were always many people waiting to get where they were trying to go but every person seemed focused only on what they were doing not merely on what they did or are about to do. At times Thai people seemed simple in their thought-processes with mild expressions of indifference painted upon their demeanor and seemingly meager amounts of intent for the future. But they were not simple in any way, they were fascinating. Their peaceful aura stemmed not from simple thoughts but from peace in the moment.

The bus in a big city can be a stressful place. People are crammed into a tiny area intending to travel to places of work they loathe and wish not to go. They are filled with anxiety about what they will do when they get there, how much they don’t want to be there or even on this very bus on which they stand, and many other details such as how it irritated them to have to wait five-and-a-half minutes for the bus today instead of the usual five. The bus can indeed be a place full of petty anxieties dealing mainly in worry about the past and future mixed with irritation of the now. However, in Thailand I found myself on a crowded bus in awe of the fact that everyone there was at peace. Although there was still ample situation to create stress the people there were complacent to their current position. They were humble in their stance as they slowly drifted through the streets en route to work. They seemed to think only of the fact that they were there with something to do and that was sufficient. There is no point in fretting upon the immediate future since the present is not currently connected, and therein lies the fulcrum of today’s lesson in cultural understanding; the past is not now, the future is later, but now is the moment and it is that is simple.

It is this aspect of the “now” in mental consciousness that has been very difficult for me to accept upon returning home. After living in a primarily Buddhist society for the last year I have found myself turn a more mellow colour than before. I don’t know what my previous colour was but if it was white I am now a soft egg-shell that one would paint their study in hopes of finding tranquility. I recall being much more relaxed in Thailand than I feel here and I think the reason is the contrast of societal forming views. In the past week and half I have moved from a Buddhist societal mentality to that of our new-Christian formed/freemarket competition/fight for tomorrow’s salvation today type mentality and I must say it has been unsettling. I already have stomach acid build up and can’t sleep at night because I am worried about tomorrow. At some point during our trans-Pacific flight the air changed from Buddhist warmth to contemporary North American chill.

Cheryl had warned me that coming home would induce a reverse-culture-shock that would catch me off-guard so I can’t say I didn’t know this was coming. But this shock is enormous. When I dwell on what was (which I am doing a lot more now that Canadian society has once more re-absorbed me) I recall how mellow and in-the-moment I was only days before. I am already forgetting the peace of the “now” and am once again moving unerringly toward the future. I am now faced with trying to integrate the two. I don’t want to fret like so many of us Canadians who are always in a rush to something else. Perhaps my travel overseas to the land of the Buddhists has something more to teach me; how to enjoy the moment and not only worry about the next.

Now that you have read about my mental journey do yourself a favour; at least three times today stop and ask yourself “am I enjoying this moment or am I only dwelling on the past or the future?”. Not only will you find you are often not in the moment but also asking yourself that question will help remember to enjoy the “now” more in the future (and isn’t that a better plan for the future than just worrying about it?).

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