Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

I’m zipping through the German countryside on an InterCityExpress train to Mannheim, where I will transfer to go to Geneva. I’m marvelling at how lucky I am. I could be sleeping in a terminal in Spain, or worse, stuck in Rota indefinitely. An Air Force colonel, who happens to be a commander of a Air Mobility Command wing (the section that makes Space-A flights possible), was generous enough to lend seats on his personal aircraft for passengers going to Ramstein. And the flight was quite the experience, it was like riding a VIP plane! More than anything, watching the pilots work their controls as they flew was fascinating.

Once in Germany, Sandy (a fellow traveler trying to get to Turkey) and I took a shuttle to Frankfurt Airport where we parted ways. She taught me a few German phrases and we had great discussions about economics and law. I went to the train station where I ordered a beer and bratwurst, and boarded the ICE train to Mannheim. Later, I got another beer and sausages with potatoes. All with no strings attached. It was relieving to not be carded for anything!

I am going to miss the freedom of drinking whenever I want to.

We finally reached Bechtel, our faces cold and legs aching from over 2 miles of trekking through the snow. I hastily shuffled off my backpack and shed my outer jacket. I had packed 3 liters of water in my backpack, and I was paying for it now in sweat and pain. Soon after Dad and I had the fire crackling in the stove, Mom and my siblings caught up with us at the shelter.By this time, the snow was rushing down outside. Under that God-given shelter, we were warm. Just outside, a couple birds flitted about. I watched in amazement as they danced about in the bitter cold. They would perch on the trees right outside the shelter, sharply eying from safety. Then all of sudden, they would dive towards the shelter, and double back just as quickly. These were ADD birds, if I’ve ever seen them.

They’re Camp Robbers, Mom said, as she tossed a few crumbs onto the ground. Immediately, the birds voraciously snatched them away and toted them back to their perches. I suppose their strange behavior was just looking for scraps on the ground.

The snow started falling harder, and the wind threw gusts our way occasionally. We were ready to reach the shelter, which was a little shed off the trail that had a wood stove and a whole winter’s supply of firewood. That fire sounded really good right about then.

I was starting to get tired. If you’ve ever snow-shoed, you probably know that trying to keep up with cross country skiers is a tiring ordeal. It’s kind of like trying run alongside someone with roller skates. But despite Dad’s faster skis, I managed to keep up behind him as we trudged our way to the Bechtel shelter. When we’d hit uphills, I’d catch up because it would slow him down more than it would me.

All around us, the snow kept falling, and the trees kept trying to shrug off their burdensome load.
We were enveloped in the pure silence, which was interrupted only by the crunching of our feet upon the snow, the rustling of our snow coats, and the panting of our breath. My feet began to remind me of when I spent a month at Ft. Knox, walking around in combat boots for 16 hours of the day.

I plopped down into the snow off of the path. Dad, a few feet ahead of me, stopped, too, on his skis. Let’s take a break, he said. I nodded in agreement and looked around.

What was normally a logging road was thickly blanketed with snow, with a winding single path carved through by cross-country skiers.
On both sides were trees, hunched over like badly postured teenagers, overly burdened by the heavy snow that had piled on their branches.
They looked like picture book Christmas trees.
Every once in a while, a branch on a tree would finally yield to the weight of the snow, and it would all come tumbling down in a white mist and chunks.
Lazily,  the snow was coming down, taking its sweet time.

I closed my eyes.
Imagining I was a kid again, I stuck my tongue out to catch some of the snowflakes meandering their way to the ground.

You hear that? Dad asked.

I could hear absolutely nothing. The sound of sheer and complete silence was calming and alien. Yeah, I do.

It’s so quiet.

We sat there for a moment, appreciating the silence that is found only in the snowy mountains.

Let’s go, I said, and re-consolidated my gear.

As I continued down the trail, the crunching of the snow-shoes broke the silence once again.

Starting Tuesday after finals week, the people that I call friends started leaving. One by one, sometimes two at a time, they went back to their homes. Saturday, then Sunday came around. When Monica left, I was down to a few. The next Saturday, I went with Bryan and Adelle down to Klamath Falls. We left him there on Monday, and then I parted with Adelle at Eugene as she went up to Portland.

And just like that, the train took away the last person that I really hung out with this term.

I’ve been in apartment since, lazing about. Eugene is quiet.

I often hail my time in Japan as the beginning of my jump into adulthood. It was in that time that I was able to experience independence and freedom from my parents, which ultimately has helped shaped me into who I am today. But one point of regret for me is the fact that I didn’t focus on Japanese afterwards. I had plenty of good reasons (my Japanese teacher at UO, burned out, breaking up with Japanese girlfriend) but honestly, I should have been bigger than those. Another point of regret is the fact that I have consistently forgotten and neglected to write back to my second host mother, who, to this day, still writes me at times. It’s merely because my life has become so much busier than it was four years ago, and because my Japanese had gotten so bad…but every time I see another letter or email from her saying how much she thinks of and misses me…well…

I got this in my email today:

日本は12月になり朝晩が寒くなりました。でも昼間は暖かい日が多いです。返事がこないので心配です。日本語を忘れてしまいましたか？お母さんのメールで は、分かりません〓それとも忙しく返事を返せないのでしょうか？？？。たけしも高校より大学の方がもっと忙しく今だに忙しいお母さんはたけしと会わない日 もあります。だからショーンもきっといそがしいのでしょうね。8月に弓恵と中国の西安と北京に行きました。ショーンの中国の祖父母の方はどこに居るのかし らと思いながら旅行していましたょ。歴史の古い中国にたくさんの感動し、またいきたいと思いました。いよいよ、ちさとの結婚式です。ショーンも来てくれる と楽しみにしていましたが、連絡がないのて、残念です。今は弓恵がいるのでお母さんの携帯にEnglishでも弓恵に読んでもらえます。
元気なら良いのですが、では返事がくることを楽しみに待っています。〓 〓〓〓
鈴木 和子

I was able to read most of it…it really felt like a guilt trip, actually, but I feel like I deserve it.

To fill the empty hole in my heart…I’m starting to construct my potential DSLR system.

Hahahaha…just kidding. But seriously, I’m thinking to start off with:

Canon Rebel EOS XTi body - 10 megapixels, AF system from the 30D, DIGIC II image processor, self-cleaning dust function

But instead of getting the cheap kits online, (which I originally thought were a good deal) I am going to just get the body and get my own lenses. After looking online, I’ve come to realize that (obviously) the camera can only take as good pictures as it can see. And it sees through the lenses. So instead of getting some slow, medium zoom lens that’s made from plastic, I’m going to get a $300 prime lens by Canon. It’s 50 mm, so that converts to about 80 mm on the XTi, with a maximum aperture of f/1.4, which is really fast.

I’ll stick to that for now, and get a feel for judging distances and composing shots with an almost normal perspective lens.

Much like the Equinoxes and Solstices, I propose to have seasonal Adelle Appreciation Days. The purpose of these holidays are to appreciate and show our favorite (and only) Malaysian friend how much she means to us in a completely serious and non-facetious manner. These will happen on the 23rd every three months…

October 23rd

January 23rd

April 23rd

July 23rd

So mark your calendar, and show AP some love!

Muahaha…

My friends Wind and Rain stopped by this weekend

Rain always leaves the world cleaner than it was before

Wind always brings about change

They come with chaos and disorder

And violently thrash the world about

This morning, across the sidewalks leaves were strewn all over

An old man shook his head and picked up his rake

A young child laughed and smiles at the beauty in the chaos

…I will never be a poet…but verse is fun nonetheless.

Now that I’ve started getting paid by the Navy, my mind has gone crazy. Every little thing that I wanted before, I’m much closer to buying. Just a few hours ago, I spent 70 dollars on shoes that I DON’T NEED. The ease of online shopping isn’t helping, either. Just now, I had to stop myself from buying another hard drive and extra memory for my computer. If I keep this up, my goal of getting a DSLR camera is NEVER going to be reached.

The interesting thing is the change in my thought process. It’s no longer planning out my expenses and wondering if I have the money to buy something…it’s become a holistic assessment of my resources, thinking, “Oh, I have enough to buy that” without even realizing that costs add up FAST. Not to mention the fact that my normal good spending/saving habits have gone out the window…

My 20th birthday is marked with an amazing weekend. Actually, it started on Wednesday, when we went to David’s for a BBQ. Thursday, had dinner with See, Katie, and David. Got a touching gift from Holly.

This Saturday, my family and I rented tubes and an inflatable kayak to take down the Willamette. The trip was amazing, if not a little longer. The first half of the river is the best, with a couple small rapids under I-5 and the Autzen Footbridge. I definitely want to go down again with all of my friends that went rafting the first time. Kayaks are a lot more fun.
After getting back yesterday evening, we BBQed some amazing steaks and chicken…I’m really getting more confident in my cooking ability.

Today, on the fly, we decided to go down the river again. The rapids were great, and the water was amazing to swim in. We only went half the distance this time, so we weren’t as tired at the end. By the time we got home, though, I was starting to feel two days of kayaking…I’m pretty sore and tired now. We BBQed again tonight, and it was delicious again.

I’m thoroughly worn out from these last two days, but I feel great. When I’m sore and tired, I know I’m alive. It’s a refreshing feeling. Instead of presents and an over-hyped birthday party, this has been far better. Spending time with my family, friends, eating great food, and appreciating life.

And with half an hour before my teenage years slip away forever…I write this blog post. Every birthday, I think back and reflect on the past year. And every year has been better than the one before. And I always tear up just a little in nostalgia, in thinking back on how much I have learned, grown, and changed. It always astounds me. But not this year. No tears at all. This year, I have been conscious of my growth, and my personality. I am not quite as surprised at how much I’ve changed, because it’s what I’ve been trying to do. I know that this year, I’ve learned far more and gain far more confidence than before. I feel myself to becoming truly a stronger person. A couple years ago, I began a transformation from being a follower to being a leader. I began to change from being a sheep to being a wolf. And I know that I am becoming one now.

I am, by no means, unthankful.

I love my family. They have supported me through all my endeavors, even the ones they don’t support personally. In the most literal sense, without them, I would not be standing tall as I am today.

I love my friends. A lot of faded away, some are more distant at the moment than others, a special few have put up with me and stayed strong with me, and some are new, fledging friendships. They are not perfect, nor am I. I’ve had conflicts and been upset with most of them at some time or another. But I have learned from each and every one of them. And they all have contributed to making my life what it is now.

I love this country. It has provided me the opportunities to be successful and excel. Living here and learning more about the rest of the world has given me the utmost hope for the United States of America. Again, it is not perfect, but I am strongly convinced that this is the best country in the world to live in.

I look to this next year, my 20th year of life, my junior year in college, and the continuation of my maturation, with eagerness, excitement, but with a tenacious preparedness.

My 20th birthday is on Monday, Labor Day. See, Katie, and David took me out to dinner at Olive Garden last night for it, which was amazing. Interesting coincidence, a middle school crush of mine sat in the table next, but I didn’t talk to her. The waitress hit on me the whole night, and gave me free dessert.

I’m squaring away some of the conflicts that started up this summer. It’s fun, and a good exercise of aggression masked with tact and discretion.

Mr. Smith called me yesterday, and hopefully the Final Select will be coming soon for me.

I am officially a Senior in college by credits, now.

After learning that there was going to be an eclipse, I decided to hike up Mt. Pisgah the night of and take photos. When See and David found out about this, they wanted to come to…I was quite surprised, actually. Most people wouldn’t want to do something as crazy as this. Waking up in the middle of the night to hike 2 miles to watch the night sky? No way. Most people would rather stay in the comfort of their home and their warm bed.

My friends are badass. I am glad they came, too, because the hike was a bit darker and scarier than I imagined. As I was hiking up, I started thinking about how Dad did these kind of things when I was younger, and how I used to think of him as crazy. I’ve always considered myself a little less adventurous than the rest of my family, yet here I was in the middle of the night hiking to watch the moon.

Up the gravel trail, through many spider webs and piles of horse dung, we finally made it to the top. We laid down a blanket, dressed up warmly, and began to watch the shadow of the Earth eat at the brilliant full moon. Down below, the city lights of Eugene were brilliant. I set up Sherri’s E-500 camera on a tripod, and took photos every 5 minutes, stepping up the shutter length with f5.6 to get the right brightness. The photos turned out great, but what’s even more amazing is the stitch that I made of all of them together.

Who we are is defined by our experiences and our past. I’ve been doing so much and changing so much in the past few years that I wanted to visit my past. I reminisce quite often, but I have wanted to physically go back to a place that would remind me of the past. A place where I had lived, played, and grown up.

So today, I drove to Creswell, past the barber shop where I had cut my hair in a bowl-cut style as a kid, down Highway 99, down Lynx Hollow road, and then Jackson road that led to the old farm that I had spent my pre-teen years on. Even though it has been almost 7 years since living there, the way home still was fresh in my mind.

I turned down Jackson road and rolled down the windows. My memory may fade with time, but my nose never forgets. All the same buildings were there.

The McClean’s house, the two houses of our old farm, and the Booher’s place.
Across the road from our farm was an old lady that lived in a trailer, but she was gone.
When I was 10, my dad had planted a fir tree sapling on the side of the road, and it had grown really tall.
In one of the field was the old riding lawn mower that I had my driving lesson on.

When I got out of the car is when nostalgia really hit me. The smells. Those smells. My memory may fade, but my nose nevers forgets. The organic earthy smell of manure wafting from barns and fields. Grass seeds and pollens. Mud. Gasoline. Smelling my past sent shivers down my spine. Memories came rushing back in black and white. In my head, past played and I was watching myself play in the fields, shooting my BB gun, and swimming in an old creek.

After my ears started to get attuned to the quiet of the country, the sounds started to resonate with my memories, too. Unlike being in the city with the constant racket of cars and trucks driving by my house, or the whirring of my computer fan, or bass from hip-hop music beating in my ear, there was almost absolute quiet. The wind wisping through the grass fields. Bugs zipping past my head. Hammers and saws. 4 wheelers ripping through the pasture. Wells turning on and off to pump water to the houses. Those sounds.
The chill of memories long past.
Stillshots of a childhood running through my head.

Almost everything was exactly the same. But then I saw some of the inhabitants of my old memories. Unfamiliar faces. Even the people that used to know me probably wouldn’t have remembered or cared. I couldn’t stay. No matter how comforting the nostalgia of the past was, it would never be the answer to the challenges of the future. I could not dwell on the past, or live in it. After satiating my thirst for the reminiscent, I had nothing left to do in that place.

What a trip.

I finally feel sane again. Well, I wasn’t really insane before, but something about running equalizes me.

I ran four miles, thought about some things on the way, but mainly ran with Maroon 5 stuck in my head.

Mile two, as I rounded Donald going to Fox Hollow, and started on the downhill, I saw a rainbow high in the sky…it looks amazing. It was almost a manifestation of things clearing up in me.

It started to rain after that. When I got to Amazon, finishing my fourth mile, I did some pullups and dips and took the bus home. The issues I have are still here, but I feel like I can deal with them more level-headedly.