Doombus Omnibus:
Euphoric Ataraxia and Other Silliness

Correspondence
haikubear at gmail dot com

Vitals
* Years: 22 + 8
* Homes: Leningrad, NY, SF, Gimhae
* Totem: Bear
* Quest: Learn / Serve / Relate
* Short-term Quest: 40 weeks
* Location: NYC

Cautionary Word
"The reality is more excellent than the report." --Emerson

Books
The History of St. Petersburg, Duet of Russian Historians

Ponderables
(a) 22 is the biggest number.
(b) Some things are actually sacred.

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I don't want to be Jumper


The project of planning a month of independent travel in China has been on our collective mind since at least January. Because China is China (because of where it lies geographically, and because of the place it occupies in our imaginations), it has been one of the focal points of our Asia-overland journey. But every time we have come close to having a concrete plan, events in China have turned tragic. (Really, tragic.)

Before we knew much else, we knew we wanted to visit Tibet. We planned a Far East / India / Central Asia / Russian Europe trip around the idea that we would go to Lhasa, would bus it to Kathmandu in Nepal from there, would cross the Himalayas on land. Just as this plan solidified in our heads, Tibet exploded in nearly a month of violence, and tensions remain unresolved. It's hard to know for certain what's happening, because foreign access to TAR has been closed off.

China without Tibet seemed incomplete at best, and closed the overland route to India. After a month of staring at maps, we came up with a new plan for China -- and a new all-around route, too (see earlier post). A chunk of the trip was to be spent in Sichuan province, in the Bamboo Sea and in Chongqing and Chengdu -- the closest you can get to TAR now. Yesterday, Sichuan exploded in an earthquake the ramifications of which won't be known for days, at least -- but already thousands are reported to have died, villages levelled.

It's hard to think about tourism in the face of such immense suffering. On the one hand, it's clearly wrong to go to a disaster-stricken place unless your presence there is both safe and helpful in some concrete way. On the other hand, simply rearranging our itinerary to avoid the messy parts feels like an act of trivialization; it feels cynical in the worst way.

There was a terrible movie Dina and I saw, called "Jumper" -- the protagonist had the superpower of teleportation. Early on, he is watching television and sees, live, flooded New Orleans. People are on rooftops, awaiting help. He resolutely turns off the TV (he's going to help them, I'm thinking, hoping) and teleports to a bar in London where he picks up a woman for a one-night stand. New Orleans and Katrina are never mentioned again. No question is ever raised about what responsibility is entailed by the privilege of his power.

Where is this line between service and hedonism? I don't know, and I don't know and I don't know -- but I must go to work in less than 8 hours.

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//6 monkeys at typewriters//