Between a rock and a hard place () 09/27/2002 It's always the same. I wonder whether I will cope with yet another strange city. Is this the one I will leave none the wiser; museums unexplored, galleries unseen, the language... a mystery, "between a rock and a hard place?" But I have opted to make my own discoveries and deal with potential dilemmas in my own way. Perhaps I have a control problem... not negotiable? I tap into sensations as if I am centre-stage reciting a monologue; cannot blame anyone if it goes wrong. Travelling sharpens faculties, intensifies the elements which make up the nature of a person, good and not so good. Danger is never far away; more insidious than robbery, less covert than vice. Life is short and may be difficult and I will deal with both on my own terms. No time to compromise. I don't want to watch second-rate movies or walk on the wrong side of the street. But sometimes... just sometimes... I envy those who travel as a team; guarding the bags, buying the ticket whilst the other queues. Then I remember how nervous I am in anticipation and know that I couldn't ask anyone to suffer my vacillations. And do they derive such pleasure, capturing the moment on Kodak, waiting aeons and maybe just once, getting it just right? Some watch, their gaze querulous, not convinced until they start talking and I assure them that I really did request a separate table; no mishap or slight of the management. But I have learned to give myself time and, as a picture revealing itself through a glass darkly, I begin to understand and know that soon, all will be revealed. When I cease being curious about what is around the corner, then I will stop. It will be over. Meanwhile, I move on. It is not always easy, particularly in China; hard work, this constant planning ahead; one step forward, two back. Busy stations, no interpreter, return travel difficult to arrange... I could go on. But in Europe, ride Inter-Rail with a Thomas Cook Timetable under your arm and you can choose a city today, buy a return ticket, book a sleeper in one transaction and then settle down at the station buffet with a good book! I was stranded regularly, hoping Wendy's diner opened early... like 3:00am, and taxi drivers slept with one eye open! I remember Phoenix where the night-heat burned my nostrils. Darkness inside and out, as I emerged from the station. Only the temperature indicated the sky above. "Dangerous to leave you here," explained the station-master. "Some strange types round these parts, lady," as he spat his tobacco, hitched his pajamas and banged the gate behind us. No option then, so I headed for the one light in the distance. My second circuitous route was clockwise. A revelation, arriving at the neo-classic temples the Americans call railway stations, in daylight. Working and taking vacations meant convincing my colleagues that it really was possible to circumnavigate State-wise and be back for the next semester!
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