transatlanticism

Last week I sort of had a moment, when I was watching “Lost in Translation." It's such a good one... but shit. I was watching it in a basement in Syria, where I've been for over three months, not three days. And where my problems aren't elliptical machines that are too advanced or being confused by sushi similarities, but the lack of running water one day, and electricity another day. It's just ironic to watch something about cultural differences and isolation during a week trip to Tokyo when you are sitting in the middle of a Syrian winter feeling kind of burnt out.

Props to Myles for figuring out how to fix the electricity... finding copper wire in the Chinese Cultural Center, shaving it down, going into this random room of our building and somehow reconfiguring the fuses?? Without electrocuting himself? Major props.

A few days ago I went to this beautiful monastery called Marmousa with Myles, Kate, and a bunch of Kate's friends and room mates. It was in this mountain around two hours outside of Damascus, built into the rocks of a cliff, and surrounded by nothing but vast desert. It took us a while to climb up the steps to the church, but upon reaching the building, you overlook the most surreal view. The deep red desert sand and blue cloudless sky, with the moon out in daytime. It was stunning, but we've seen so many absolutely indescribable and stunning things here, that I wouldn't think it would affect me all that much. It completely did; it was just so peaceful and endless. The monastery was set up so that you can stay overnight for free if you just pitch in washing dishes or cleaning a bit. And the church was one of the most comforting places I've ever been. It had these old, brightly colored paintings on the wall, none of which had been renovated. Most of the paint was chipping away, but it was just so homey and unintimidating. It was small too, so only a few people were in it. No one was quiet because of rules or necessity, we were just quiet because we wanted to be respectful. Someone was in the corner reading, and cushions were set up along some of the edges to sit. After we explored and were waiting for Kate's friends to come back, I went back in by myself and sat in front of this tin tray with candles in it. Most of them were just melted wax lining the bottom, but 11 candles stilled burned... I just sat there for a while and thought about my family. My whole family, friends included. There are people back home who I've been thinking a lot about, from those who have recently died to those dealing with family sicknesses to those who are just so strong in everything they do. I've never been religious, though I've always had my own sort of spirituality... I can count the times that I've prayed on one hand, but this was one of them.

Probably not any time in the immediate future, but maybe in a few years, I would love to go back and stay there for a few days. All you would need are some books and maybe a journal and a camera. I feel like you would just be able to sit for a week and write poetry.

Speaking of being thankful for friends and family... We actually had a really nice Thanksgiving last week. We went to one of Myles' friends' houses, with a bunch of other Americans... and actual Thanksgiving food! Not gonna lie, Myles and I made the most EPIC stuffing ever... we were scared all day that it was going to be a complete failure, but it was actually really good... someone may have said it was the best stuffing he'd ever had... shockingly enough haha.