why am i whittling?

Because that's what you do in a town where a yellow light means slow down, not speed up.  

Ah, Kyle McLachlan, where have you been all my life?  I just watched the first episode of "Twin Peaks," which was super entertaining.  I highly recommend.  KM is an FBI agent who goes to a small town in the Pacific NW to solve a murder case, and is shown that the seemingly innocent town has a dark side to it.  I haven't stumbled upon any dark side in Gallup, but there's definitely a small-town vibe here.

This weekend I went out with my friends Brendan and Gil in Albuquerque, and we really messed up the place.  We went out dancing and good times were had by all.  I ate dinner at an area called Nob Hill, around UNM.  There's an area called "The Brick Light District," which is (I'm assuming), where potential reality-show contestants hang out.  I walked around a bit, then drove around a bit.  I haven't been here two weeks, and already I was really turned off by the congestion and noise of downtown Albuquerque, and the weird Manson Family vibe I got from the Brick Light District.  I really liked living in DC, but now that it's quiet all the time where I live, I've really come to enjoy it.  It's nice to be able to hear yourself think all the time, and it's so much less taxing to not have to block people out all the time.  

So I may not be whittling quite yet, but I've most certainly started slowing down for those yellow lights.  

the politics of dancing

(picture today courtesy of one of my favorite blogs, Monkeys For Helping)

I went to work hard for the money the first time today.  So many impressions, I don't really know where to begin.  Again, everyone's really nice, although I've kind of worn that one out on this blog thus far.  I guess not all Federal Government Hospitals are equal, as evidenced by the glaring disparity between NIH and the Gallup Indian Medical Center.  Although one thing I noticed right off the bat was that they clearly put patient care before administrative concerns.  That is not to say that NIH doesn't make patient care issues a priority; towards the end of my employment there, however, I was beginning to feel like the organization was a little top-heavy, and that the leadership was accordingly limited in its ability to fully and accurately assess the needs of its patients and their caregivers.  As another Federal healthcare entity, I suppose that only time will tell if GIMC is at its core the same way or different.

It turns out that I'm going to be here for the Navajo Festival, the second weekend of September.  I'm pretty stoked, it sounds like fun.

I was talking with a good friend of mine about the social and ethnic stratification (as it were) that exists here.  Please note that this is based purely on anecdotal information.  There seem to be three predominant ethnic groups here: the Anglos (whites), Hispanics/Mexicans/Latinos, and the Native Americans (comprised of the various tribes in the region, chief among them the Navajo, Hopi, Zuni, Ute, Apache, or any of the other tribes--please to note that there is no noun for "indian" in the very complicated Navajo language).  How do I know this, you ask?  Well, for starters, it's been on every single form I've filled out, including my application for a library card.  On the surface, this seems very easy, to group everyone into these various categories, and I think that for purposes of co-existing, everyone more or less puts up with it.  But the distinctions between the various subgroups is where the problem lies.  Because the Spanish settled this area first, those of Spanish descent prefer to be called Hispanic, and object to being called Latino or Mexican.  It doesn't seem to matter the other way around.  The Navajo and the Hopi seem to have an on-going land-related dispute.  The Anglos aren't stratified at all.

Altogether, this creates an odd sort-of racial tension in the air.  Maybe I'm totally full of it, though, and am completely off target here.  However, having lived in both Baltimore and DC has given me unique experience in the co-existence of disparate racial groups.

Why all this analyzing, Sten?  So, after a week or so of observing the many and varied differences amongst the peoples of this area, I have come to the conclusion that as an Anglo, it is best if I just keep my mouth shut and don't say anything at all.  It seems that no matter what you say, you're bound to offend someone.  Plus, having descended from a group of people who probably played some sort of role in the genocide committed to the native peoples of the US, I have decided that I have everything to lose and nothing to gain by getting involved in the racial politics that I'm sure occur in this area with alarming frequency.

And you know, that ain't bad. I just hope that I can keep my big fat mouth shut and stay out of trouble.

first day

The Religious Society of Friends sometimes refers to "Sunday" as "First Day," as it is the first day of a new week.  

I went to Meeting today for the first time since I began my expedition.  I've been thinking all day about what I should write, and I still haven't totally figured it out yet.  First impressions: I'm the youngest by 30 years and this is a really small group (5?).  It's very different from the comparative hustle-and-bustle movers-and-shakers up at the Friends Meeting of Washington, but it really worked well.  There hasn't been a Meeting yet when I haven't come away being enriched spiritually and having learned something new, and today was no exception.

Something that came up after the meeting was the definition of an actual member of the Religious Society of Friends.  I've given some thought to pursuing this avenue, but have been conflicted by several personal hesitations.  If one is to truly desire to worship Jesus Christ as his or her own personal savior and call him or herself a Christian, then I would think that the pact between him/her-self and God would be the most important indicator of his or her Faith; carrying a card that states to which denomination of Christianity one belongs to seems like more of a worldly concern.  I suppose this issue could be viewed instead as a furthering of education about that denomination (or whatever religion, this could be another of those patterns to which I earlier referred) instead of a "confirmation," or "indoctrination."  I don't know if that makes any sense at all.

At any rate, I would like very much to learn more about the Friends, and also to become more involved; I am probably going to go through with the membership process and no longer be merely and Attender.  This does bring into light the contradiction inherent to many Christian denominations; sometimes the ritual can detract from the central issue, which is to Live the Word.

Enough of me on my soapbox.  Comments?

roving packs of dogs

My neighborhood has roving packs of dogs. Some of them have collars, some of them don't. Either way, it was slightly disconcerting to me one morning as I was reading the news outside with Worf. I don't quite know what to make of this. Neighborhood curiosity? Potential threat? Hilarious daily goings-on? I settled on the latter of those three. However, it has reminded me that I need to be sure not to settle in too quickly and get comfortable too fast. Balance is something I've striven for my whole life, and this is an excellent opportunity to test out newly-learned skills.

A good friend reminded me today of one of my initial goals of this project, which was to probe the depths of the relationship between ourselves, the Universe, and God, but on my own (at least for awhile). One more reason to not get too comfortable too quickly is to ensure focus on the big picture. In times of great upheavel, an argument can be made that focusing on the forest instead of the individual trees is important, or else things can become very overwhelming. That leads to frustration, and then things can get out of hand. That's when shenanigans happen, and nobody wants shenanigans.

Oh, so another going-on. A former co-worker of mine at NIH put me in touch with her son who lives in Albuquerque with his boyfriend. So we had emailed back and forth and on Friday I drove to ABQ and stayed the night with them. They are super awesome (I haven't asked if it's alright if I put their names in my blog) and I think that we can get up to all sorts of fun stuff in the future. They informed me of something I was happy to hear; they said that the gays here are more of the hippie variety, and not the circuit party variety. Good times were had by all. ABQ seems like a neat city, I look forward to getting to know it better. So, yeah, fun!

I slapped a collar on Worf and gave way to the inevitable; he is growing up and doesn't want to just stay inside all the time anymore. He has limited privileges now; if things go well, those might be extended.

I invited some of the dogs from the roving packs in to pose for my own personal interpretation of the art classic "Dogs Playing Poker." They kindly accepted, and are now ready, so I must go. Tot ziens!

more photogs from the land of enchantment

More photogs from the Land of Enchantment. Please to enjoy.

talking god

Talking God is the title of a novel by Tony Hillerman. Several people mentioned to me that Tony Hillerman is an author I should read. His literary topic of preference concerns mysteries in the setting of the Navajo community. I look forward to reading this book.

The picture today is of the final leg of the drive. I took that from my dashboard. Please to note the numerous bugs on the windshield, accompanied by bugs that you can't see on the grill. I have killed an alarming number of bugs throughout this trip, a feat of dubious intent, and one that I am ashamed to admit.

The house is very large. Too large, in fact. There is more room here than I have stuff for. I think that is better than having not enough room, though, so that's okay.

Worf is enjoying the outdoors quite a bit. Too much, in fact. Having him with me is not unlike having a child. I find myself being very concerned with his whereabouts and his present state. I wish I had that clock like in the Weasley's house in Harry Potter.

I think I figured out the big over-arching motif at play with my move out here. Besides a number of epiphanies about the way I was living my life, and the suffering inherent, I think one of the reasons everything is nice here is that everything is much, much slower. I imagine that when I start work, things will heat up a bit, but on the surface, everything proceeds at a different pace than anywhere else I've lived. It's almost as if this town is stuck 50-60 years ago in history, and that this is scarcely more than a silver boom-town that has been transitioning to ghost town for the last four generations. The Eisenhower-era Interstate-40 that runs above the town can't have helped anything. Route 66 is clearly a fascinating place, very dynamic with many different elements (not unlike the Mos Eisley bar in Star Wars IV). But unless you're a tourist or for commercial purposes, there's no reason to get off the main highway. As a result, the core industries of Gallup haven't really changed all that much, but it's almost as if all modern (or what I may think is modern) culture just up and forgot that Gallup existed. As someone who is very much an outsider, it is an interesting phenomenon to observe.

The sheer ease of living here stands out as one definite positive. I needed to hook up my power today, or rather, to transfer my name onto the bill. So, I went down to town hall and showed them my lease. That was this morning, and this afternoon the power guys came and hooked everything up. The library and the DMV are next to each other, around the corner from where I live. And there are no lines at either location.

So I may be totally FOS here, but I don't think I'm too far off. Depending on what one is used to, and what one can tolerate, a slower pace of living isn't so bad. DC is a cool city, but it's very complicated and nobody seems to ever know what's going on. Plus, there's always this Bureaucratic-Industrial-Complex that's designed to ruin your day.

Gotta run, I hear Imperial Storm Troopers on the move...

bienvenidos al mexico nuevo, pais del encanto

So, first impressions...where do I start? It's really incredible out here. It's kind of like living at the beach except there's no ocean, just miles and miles of sand and dirt. When I woke up this morning, the first thing I did was take the top off the Jeep. Then I unpacked and straightened up. Then Charlene and Joe (not their real names) came over and we signed the lease agreement for the house, which is awesome. There's a yard and everything. Plus, there's hummingbirds everywhere, so I need to obtain a hummingbird feeder. Apparently, the yard maintenence duties fall to me, so looks like I'll be getting out in the sun and the dirt a bit, which sounds like fun. I feel like I have just moved to the Garden of Eden, population 20,000.

Oh, and the house is made out of adobe. Is this like I won The Oregon Trail or what? I hope the moving guy comes tomorrow with my stuff and hasn't died of dysentary or drowned in the river or something.

So the lease agreement had on it a clause that I not silversmith in the house once I move in. I asked if that was a common problem in these parts, and Charlene answered that she and Joe don't like renting to Navajo because when they move in, they will move several generations of relatives into the house and/or set up silver smithing facilities inside the house for the purpose of jewelry making, Gallup being a major center of American Indian jewelry. Charlene also mentioned a distaste for the Navajo and "east coast liberals" who don't understand that the Navajo (perhaps) overindulge in the liberties afforded to them that are provided by the Federal Government.

This brought up a good point; first and foremost that I have a ways to go in the pursuit of educating myself about the complex issues surrounding the coexistence of native peoples and foreign settlers in this region.

I have decided to continue this blog. I may change the name once I figure something out (which shouldn't change the status of the people who are following my blog--thank you very much, by the way. That's really nice of you and makes me feel very special), and I also may have longer intervals between postings, but the content should remain the same.

I wanted to thank everyone who's read the blog; I have gotten a really positive response to it, which has been greatly appreciated. It's been a lot of fun, which is why I'm continuing it.

Perhaps go see Section 9 tonight? I am, after all, a mere 5 hour drive from Roswell.

where the wind comes sweepin' down the plains

Right now I'm in a Carl's Jr. Why, you ask, am I in a Carl's Jr with a terrified cat and nothing to do? Well, I'll tell you why. It's because my car notified me that I needed to get an oil change, that's why. So I found a place in Elk City, OK, right near the border with Texas, who will do it for me. Now, why my *new* car needs an oil change at ~3000 miles is beyond me (the dealership told me it wouldn't need one until 6000 miles), but that's neither here nor there at this point. I spent the night last night in Oklahoma City, after driving through Arkansas and half of Oklahoma yesterday. I have posted some pictures; please to note that Oklahoma greeted me with an intense thunderstorm that forced me to pull off the road because of the mortal peril involved in driving.

Through it all, though, I'm still really happy that I've chosen to take this trip. I can't express enough how nice everyone is to a complete stranger. The hotel, the car place, even everyone at the gas stations. That alone would be reason enough for me to stay here. Plus, Oklahoma is amazing. Plains as far as the eye can see, dotted with churches and farms and adult bookstores.

Pictures attached today are of a lot of things. There are a few with Worf when I let him out at the rest stop, those are in Arkansas. The rest were taken in Oklahoma. Where the wind does, indeed, come sweeping down the plains. It brings rain, good vibes, and adult material to the good people of this state.

the mighty mississip'

We didn't do much today except go out to brunch, so I'm just going to do a post of some pictures I took of the Mississippi river. It is truly incredible. Off to Oklahoma City tomorrow!

surreal experience #2

Looking at an exhibit about white supremecists in the National Civil Rights Museum with an African-American family.

top of the mountain

What a day! Man, was it hot, hot, hot. Today was as hot as it ever gets in DC, but apparently this is actually mild for them. I caught myself complaining an inordinate amount today. Cry me a river, Sten.

After brunch in the gay district of Memphis, which was not unlike Baltimore's only with fewer "hons" being said back and forth and less big hair, Melissa and I went to the Civil Rights Museum. It's housed partially in the hotel where Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated. It was akin to going to the Holocaust Museum in DC; a great experience of learning and sharing, but an intense one nonetheless. The whole process of civil rights for blacks is really moving. After having seen the museum today, I understand better why some in the African-American progressive movement get upset when homosexual groups compare striving for the right to marry to the fight amongst blacks for civil rights. It's not unlike attempting to compare apples and oranges; they are two different phenomena that share a common thread, but have a great number of divergent experiences and philosophies. Definitely something worth going to, though, at the very least.

Pictures posted today are of the National Civil Rights Museum, the balcony where MLK Jr was shot, a street along the tram tracks that goes to downtown Memphis, Melissa and Alan, and Melissa and myself.

The three of us had dinner with some of Alan and Melissa's friends, who are from Ireland. We had a really interesting discussion on the state of the economies of Europe, and what it portends for the future. The topic of Iceland's joining the EU came up; I heard from some Icelandic friends of mine awhile back who said that Iceland originally hadn't joined over fishing rights, but it was generally agreed upon that they are joining the EU now because they are bankrupt.

Something that came up afterwards while talking on the veranda was the concept of loving everyone, and how that relates to the human experience. It was an interesting discussion especially because of the visit today to the Civil Rights Museum. A lot of the ills of the world, I feel, can really be explained by fundamental group psychology of humans; groups of people, when divided amongst themselves, simply do not get along well with each other. I wonder how many of the ills of the world could be prevented if we were all to indeed love our neighbors as ourselves.

I'm looking forward to another balmy Tennessee afternoon tomorrow.

southern efficiency and northern hospitality

I finally made it to Memphis today. It was a pretty intense day of driving. I was sort of beginning to think that the whole idea of driving across the country instead of a nice leisurely flight was a bad idea, but I got over that after awhile. I made it to Melissa's place (a friend from Goucher); she lives with her fiance Alan, and they are both the bee's knees in my opinion. I took a few pics of the road and Worf looking slightly terrified at a rest stop somewhere in Tennessee. Oh, and yeah, I drove through the entire state of Tennessee. I feel like the South has really gotten a bad rap. It's definitely very different than the North, to be sure, but it's really beautiful. Everyone's really nice, too. It is super easy to get lost here, though. I drove for almost 30 minutes in the complete opposite direction of Memphis before I realized that seeing farmland is not a good sign when your objective is a major city.

Melissa and I had a long talk about the state of things in our lives, and sort of caught up on what we've been up to for the past few years. We haven't seen each other in quite some time, and have both taken pretty divergent paths (she is now a muckity-muck PhD at St. Jude's). The reason it didn't seem like any time had passed, though, is because the fundamentals of who we are hasn't changed since college. We're both a little nutty, but I think that we've both learned to view that as a strength rather than a weakness. I think we've both learned a lot of important lessons.

So, heavy thought for the day: I wish it hadn't taken me so long to realize that playing the victim when faced with adversity is a good coping mechanism but is ultimately self-defeating. My dad told me a long time ago that even though your parents may mess you up, in the end it's really up to you to take that and run with it. I think it took me until last year to realize that. I suppose it's all part of the rich tapestry of experiences that comprise one's life.

It's taken me 31 years to learn all these experiences; what happens next? The first 31 years seemed to drag on forever.

surreal experience #1

Having a dinner of waffles at the Waffle House while listening to the 10 minute guitar solo from "Light My Fire" by The Doors.

virginia is for lovers

The big day has arrived! This morning, I said good-bye to Alex, packed up the rest of my things, and drove off. I had to make a stop at 2129 13th St in order to pick up my bikes and, more importantly, Little Worf. I crammed one of those sedatives from the vet down his throat, and then the two of us drove off into the sunset. I ended up having a few more things than I anticipated, and so my little truck is a little full now. She seems to be holding up alright. Arrrr, she be a fine vessel. Worf and I made three or four pit stops on our way to our first destination, Wytheville, Virginia. He held up alright, but acted not unlike myself during trips and got super bitchy. He was pretty doped up from that medication (who's name I'll post soon, it was an anti-emetic, which apparently the vet said that is preferable to use with animals; I assumed that he would be getting an anti-histamine instead, like diphenhydramine, but I guess not), but he's sitting in my lap purring right now, so I think all's well that end's well.

You know, I have talked a lot of smack about Virginia lo these many years. I guess I felt that as a native Marylander, it was my duty to consistently poke fun at our sister state (or "commonwealth") to the south. Seriously, though; what state has cities with names like "Balls-town" and "Man-asses?" Plus, driving in VA is a nightmare, because the streets are all over the place and the signage sucks. I think I was wrong, though--Virginia is amazing. Driving in the mountains is totally rad, and the landscape just goes on and on forever, dotted by farms and road stops. This is sort of just the beginning of my first voyage to see America, and I am super glad that it's something I'm doing. When I lived in Germany, and forever after I came back, I used to pooh-pooh America, and I feel bad about that now. Our country is really awesome, no matter what your political opinions are. Something I've been trying to do in my life is attempt to look at the positive side of things rather than the negative side. It's really hard sometimes, and it takes a lot of effort, but it's totally possible. Europe isn't better or worse, it's just different. But I guess I'm kind of rambling. At any rate, I took a bunch of pictures. There's a Harley-Davidson store right next to the motel, and I was super tempted to buy a little American flag for my car, but I thought that might be a little over the top.

Oh, and I'm super bummed that I've missed out on Bojangles and Waffle House for all these years, definitely two things that Maryland is lacking.

culprit one of two

I forgot that I didn't put up a picture of my traveling companion.

Worf has been my friend and sometimes-ally for 3 years now, since I found him on the rough-and-tumble streets of Baltimore. When I found him, he was in a rough place in his life. Someone had been very mean to him and done some things to him that I would rather not repeat here, and then abandoned him. I found him right when I was thinking how much I would like to have a cat, a moment that coincided with an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation that I was watching. When I brought him up to my apartment, even in his disabled state and at only 10 weeks old he was able to establish dominance amongst the other cats in the apartment. I knew we would be living together. After several bouts of fleas, countless other parasites, some physical rehab, aggression and psychological issues too numerous to count, and an on-going dental issue, Worf is still with me.

He can be a handful, but I keep him around not only because he's super cute. To me, he embodies the redemptive ability of all God's creatures. Worf got a second chance at life, and even though he is still somewhat crippled because of his distrust of pretty much everyone else, he has helped me understand that love to and from others can be a cure for when you hit rock bottom. I have been given a second chance, and I am very excited to see what happens. I am especially excited to see what happens when Worf and I travel across the country!

on the topic of trying to not piss everyone off

Wow, so last day at work. Heavens, what an experience. I think I've left all my previous jobs more or less without burning any major bridges, and this job was more or less no exception to that more or less steadfast rule. Actually, I take that back. I feel like I went into this job at a really weird point in my life, and as a result, ended up having a lot of personal growth during the course of the job. I think that this particular job was exceptional in that I managed to figure out my mistakes before they snowballed out of control. There were a number of bumps along the way, to be sure, but nothing that resulted in irreparable damage.

I did prove one of my new hypotheses, as a bonus. This particular one states that there are patterns to life, and figuring out these patterns is necessary to ascertain your future, have a life free of suffering, etc. I guess it could be considered akin to achieving a sort of homeostasis with the universe. For example, take the way we all treat others. The adage "you catch more flies with honey" holds true; almost everyone responds better when you're nice to them than when you're snarky. Therefore, it stands to reason that if you can master the skill of being nice to everyone you come across 100% of the time (thereby recognizing a pattern in your behavior and altering your behavior accordingly), you will generally be at least a little bit more successful in life than someone who is universally snarky.

The hypothesis that I proved (at least to myself) at this job is that if you are universally honest about everything (i.e. following a pattern of 100% honestly across the board), your true path will reveal itself, for better or for worse. This is the first job where I didn't try to be something I'm not, and ultimately found myself being pushed down a particular path that lead me in a direction that was completely different than the one I was on originally. So the "pattern hypothesis" stands (more or less); after a duration where I attempted to be honest 100% of the time, my destiny has been altered and the future is different than I thought it would be even 8 months ago.

Of course, this can come at a price. What might be honesty for one person might alternatively be viewed as intransigence to another. I suppose that whomever chooses to pursue this path (at least, this is the question I've posited to myself) needs to ask themselves if opening up the Pandora's Box of universal honesty and placing faith in the corrective power of the universe and God is really for them. It's a choice, like anything else. I think what led me to the decision that I needed to trust in God 100% was that I am incapable of making the right choice, when left to my own devices. I am a fundamentally flawed human being, and need God and the universe to guide me in the right direction.

My head hurts from all this thinking. I'm going to bed.

our protagonists prepare for departure

I had my going-away party last night. It went well, I think. There were a few tense moments when I didn't really know how to say goodbye to people as well as I thought I should have. This is a weird situation I've been placed in, and one where I'm not terribly familiar as to how one should proceed. I think that this is the first time I've ever left somewhere familiar and really been sad to go. The whole thing is a little bittersweet, which probably doesn't need any elaboration. There are so many pros about moving out to the SW; a great new job, the possibility of adventure, exposure to a culture with which I have no prior experience.  There are a number of cons as well, but I guess it doesn't really make all that much sense to dwell on that.  Part of the whole "Sten 2.0" thing that I have going on that seems to be working pretty well is a general disregard of potential consequences.  It's almost like, if you always attempt to act in the most positive manner possible, with 100% beneficence, you can generally be cautiously optimistic about the outcome of whatever action it is you're taking.  It's one of those big, broad patterns that are applicable to every day life that I'm trying out.  It seems to be working pretty well; mostly because I've removed the anxiety inherent to obsessing over choices and not being to make decisions.  I suppose there's always the possibility of everything blowing up in my face as well, but that's the risk one takes.  At any rate, the cons of moving out West are really neither here nor there; it's not going to change the decision I've made.  

As my date of departure approaches, I find myself withdrawing a little bit more each day into myself.  Once more, I am faced with the question of balance; what is a good balance to have between continuing relations and maintaining attachments to others in my life and preparing for the inevitable loneliness that I will surely face once I arrive in Gallup?  I must admit that I am increasingly taxed emotionally by the constant queries of my current emotional state in relation to my impending departure, although I am fully aware that it comes from a place of great support and love for me.  Perhaps I'm merely attempting to avoid the inevitable stress that accompanies dwelling on the topic of leaving.  Besides living in Germany, I've never lived anywhere else for a long period of time outside of this area of the country.  

One thing I'm grateful for is the ability to not obsess over this whole experience.  I think the medications have really helped out with this, and also constant awareness of my own personal propensity for transferring anxiety about one issue onto anxiety about another issue.  

I am very thankful for the opportunity to have had such an unbelievably blessed life here.  I am equally as thankful for the opportunity to have a new and different experience.