Beagle Sushi, yummy?

I'm a beagle deliciously named Sushi. I first came to this house on January 27th, blurred, disoriented and starving.

I happened to hear (not eavesdrop, mind you!) that "They" just wanted to take a look at my cuttie face and hadn't decided to "adopt" me yet. But after 15 minutes or so, I successfully cast my charming spell upon them, just by waging, biting and strolling around and being cute!

That was how I finally got into this messy house that seemed, for my beaglean taste, too untidy. But at least here I had got a gentle dotty Dalmatian uncle who always spared his time to play with me.

At first, I DID try to be nice and less stubborn (or even foolhardy) but I had to think twice when I knew what name "they" finally decided to give me.

I was soooooooooo excited, as a Thai-born western Beagle, to be called "Quillo" which means "A little boy" in Spanish. That sounded very chic and so aristocrat and would definitely set me apart from those mundane Beagles of other social levels. As a complimentary spectacle for my so-called owners, I danced around and tried to be nice for a couple of days until... One fine day, some of "them" came back from what they called "movie" and blessed me with this "Sushi" name.

Spanish name suddenly, without notice (and my consent), became Japanese! So that was when I officially got to be a (miserably) Thai-born western Beagle with a Japanese name. On the bright side, at least I still sound international. Should I complain?

So, one full month has passed and here I am, running, biting, eating, pooing, making a wee wee, having siestas, disobeying, growing and still kicking arse. Almost everything seems nice here and I'm starting to like "them", bit by bit though. If my ignorant memory doesn't fail me... I think one of them, who always come to play with me every evening around 7 o'clock and try very hard to express his affection on me, is called Mod.

The Signs

Sometimes the endless choices that stand before you, that lessen your instict by imposing on you the fear to make any decision that may affect the course of your future, can be overwhelming and consequently lead you to choose the worst path; doing nothing, standing still and being afraid to go for it.

When such moment comes, when our insticts are blurred by the intimidation of uncertainty that lies within the choices to be made, we desperately seek solutions, hints or clues that may help us get out of the maze. They may come in the form of anything, be it books, articles, advices from friends, mottos, quotes, philosophy or even yourself.

However, some say that such solutions don't come when you need them most. Sometimes, they never do. That's probably the time you have to look around you in search of the signs.

As Paolo Coelho says in his masterpiece "The Alchemist", God has prepared a path for everyone to follow. You just have to read the omens that he left for you. I personally never believe in God, needless to say the signs. Nevertheless, my recent experience has taught me to take a good look at things at difficult time from a different angle and become more observant of the circumstances and things around me. They may reveal themselves and lead you to the end of the dark tunnel that seems endless. I learnt to search for the signs that support the decision I determined right and was about to make. When I found them, I went for it.

I was so afraid whether to take the offer in a medium-sized company that mainly dealt with Spanish clients although the position might perfectly fit me. It wasn't the establishment that was the problem but actually it was me. I was intimidated by my own ego and afraid that if I accepted the offer, I would soon abandon it to look for something "greater" for which I thought I was worth, as I had done in the past. Then again, I began to look around and noticed that some small details concerning the post did fit my lifestyle and needs. At once I knew they were "the signs", no matter how small they might be. From there I got to know I really wanted that opportunity and started to thread for the bigger ones which would finally inspire me to reach for the star. I knew that the "bigger signs" might or might not exist but the inspiration I got from the "smaller ones" had already propelled me to look for them at any cost and I finally found them. That was when I felt comfortable, either with myself or the circumstances, to make the decision and compromise myself at a long run and, of course, with no more clouds of uncertainty.

The great job I got wasn't the most precious treasure I had found. It was the experience itself. I finally see the existence of what I previously considered inexistent and have learned how to look at the positive side of small things that may inspire you for something greater.

When you're at a dead-end, it's probably time to start looking for the signs.

It's (Not) Hard to Say Goodbye

Finally another end of year has come. One more goodbye, just to meet another new year that is to come. It seems like any other transitional phase of the past years, except that I can feel "the change" in me as well. I don't have to wait until my next birthday to feel more mature, grown-up and insightful. It's this eventful year that has taught me to look beyond the surface of seperation within which lies something worth learning.

Since the first months I said goodbye to what seemed like the perfect professional opportunity for everybody else, imaginatively consolating myself with the promising probabilities that were still unknown.

Then one by one I waved good-bye to those beloved and trusted friends. The feeling, painstakingly unforgettable as it was, doubled in intensity when the time to look for the last time at the city I had been living in for almost three full years finally arrived.

Even before I could make it to Bangkok in hope of personally caring for one of my best pet dog, Toon, she had faught and lost the battle to the ravages of old age and lamentably breathed her last breath, nine days ahead of my arrival. Another tearful yet unreal goodbye.

As I thought that things would smooth down and get back to their own track, all of a sudden I unbelievably found myself in an emotional isolation, caused by my own arrogance and demanding standard. Sadly enough, I didn't realise that the day I walked away marked the parting of our ways forever.

Just as everything promising around me seemed heading down the drain and I readied myself for the next possible seperation from something I dearly held on to, nothing came but December. The last of the twelve months that marked the end of this beautifully nostalgic year and the goodbye of goodbyes.

Before looking forwards at what was awaiting in the future path, I decided to take a very close look at what I had found in those seperations. Plenty of things were there, waiting to be discovered and reflected at all time. It was just a question of perspective, whether I only chose to see the downsides of them or also the hidden treasures within. Now that I found some of them, I learned from it. I absorbed it...and I grew up.

So, just let me say my last goodbye to all separations I have suffered and embrace the upcoming challenges of the New Year!

2008...here I go!!!

Chronicles of Mod : Kho Khao - Nature Untouched

Phuket itself, as one of the world's most well-known destinations, stamped me with no impression I had previously expected before this trip. However, I found a consolation prize at Kho Khao, an undisturbed islet that lies just beside the province of Phang-Nga.

If you are looking for somewhere to recharge your battery while leaving all the burdens behind, including your brain, this is the perfect place.

Expect nothing but a simple non-stop rest in the (few) resorts of your choice and enjoy the delightful feast from the sea.

There aren't many fully developped touristic spots on the island but, for a long stay, you can manage to find some interesting activities to do such as fishing, mangrove forest sightseeing or taking a look at the ruins of an ancient city. For those who want to be a bit more active, snorkeling and scuba diving at the nearby (?) archipelago of Surin or Similan is also feasible.

For me, I think the island is already endowed with a characteristic charm. Its hardly touched nature, the biggest highlight. Well, it's a perfect hideaway with almost everything within reach (very near Phang-Nga and just a couple of hours from Phuket). The inland forests are being slowly invaded, cut down and exploited. So if you want to see how an unexploited island look like, without having to go a distance, try this alternative.

Sand in my Shoes

Two weeks away it feels like the whole world should've changed
But I'm home now
And things still look the same
I think I'll leave it till tomorrow to unpack
Try to forget for one more night
That I'm back in my flat on the road
Where the cars never stop going through the night
To a life where I can't watch sunset
I don't have time
I don't have time
 
I've still got sand in my shoes
And I can't shake the thought of you
I should get on, forget you
But why would I want to
I know we said goodbye
Anything else would've been confused but I wanna see you again

Tomorrow's back to work and down to sanity
should run a bath and then clear up the mess I made before I left here
Try to remind myself that I was happy here
Before I knew that I could get on the plane and fly away
From the road where the cars never stop going through the night
To a life where I can't watch sunset
And take my time
Take up our time 

I wanna see you again
Two weeks away, all it takes to change and turn me around, I've fallen
I walked away and never said that I wanted to see again 

I wanna see you again
I wanna see you again

Te dedico esta canción a una parte de ti que aún está en Bali ;) Espero que hayas disfrutado el viaje y nos veamos pronto.

Love you heaps.

Dumbledore is GAY!

That was one of the best news ever in this entire year!

The fact was confirmed by JK Rowling herself in a promotional tour for her latest book of the megahit sagas Harry Potter.  Though it was just a fictional character, I felt great to know that she had planned to assign the attribute to such an important character.  Some gay activists said that it should have been more explicit, but come on, it was a children story and should it be THAT explicit?

All I care about is the fact that JK have tried hard to include every element in our world to enrich the perfection of the wizarding community, including homosexuality.  That movement was something.

Personally, the thought has never come across my mind at all.  It was, for me, a total surprise, probably because I wasn't the biggest fan of Harry Potter series.  This doesn't make her the best author of children books, but it has moved her up the rank to one of those prominent novelists in my list who try to project the reality of this world into their own world of fantasy, giving us the opportunity to learn and understand the complex reality from the simpler fiction.

I am still not a die-hard fan of hers, but at least she is now in one of my favourite and, more importantly, respected writers.

Out of the Closet

Recently I hardly have had any inspirations to jot down interesting events that happened to me.  Perhaps here in Bangkok my personal Muse can't perform her task very well since the surrounding is not very encouraging.  However, now alone in the middle of the night, with the cool german popjazz music as a backtrack, my inspiration has somehow find its way back home again.  And that leaves me to why I'm going to write about one of the most memorable, though not quite impressive, moment of my life.  It happened just a month ago; I extemporaneously told my parents that I was gay.

It was a spur-of-the-moment revelation of which I'm not going into detail.  Let's just say that my dad and I mounted quite a scene in the early morning one day.  He was illogical, irrational and stubborn while I was being furiously emotional.  There were lots of tension.  My mom was there too but she tried to blend into the surrounding while, of course, perceiving the approaching menace of my words.  Though passive she might seem, she was the one who reacted first when the truth was revealed with tears.  I blurted out that I was gay.  My dad collapsed into a chair, saying nothing.  She was the first one who accepted me as I was and my dad was the second to win the race.

I admit that originally it was intended to hurt their feelings.  Nevertheless, their reaction came out unexpected and that made me felt afterward tremendously guilty.  But I think until now I can live it down by making amend while they are also doing the same.

What really struck me was that I didn't feel any sudden relief as I had expected.  It was true that the lifetime burden was finally lifted but I wasn't immediately relieved by that fact.  Unlike the dramas I had seen, it was more a gradual process of adapting myself to another phase of reality in which we all have to take part.

As far as I know, that day marked the turning point of my perspective towards my family.  When I say family, I refer to all of us in our house.  I love my parents all the way more.  And I felt that I truly belonged to my family and wanted the best for them.  All these thoughts were unclear before that.

Despite the result that wasn't what I expected, I don't regret my action of that day.  Damages were somehow done but it was just a step further to reach a more united little family of mine.  

I took the bet and the dice turned out in my favour.  Apart from the basic characteristics of my conventional and weird family, my luck also helped me in this revelation.  I'm not saying that doing the same 
thing as I did will lead those still in the closet to a happy ending.  
But at least just try it.  We are just a little human 
being who can't bear the weight of this burden for all our life.

Take the courage to get rid of it and face the consequence.  Whatever the result will be, you are one step further than before.  And that's a good news, isn't it?

I'm Here Again.

I don't know why people are always looking for the other half of their souls, to be complete again as destined, while some others are just not giving enough care to what they already have and sometimes even throw it away.

We are never satisfied with what we have. Alone, some desperately seek the one who can hopefully make them whole again, others just spend time lamenting about their poor fate and drown themselves in the self-pitying sea. Sadly there are some who have been lucky enough to find their right matches but not savvy enough to keep them. I find myself one of them.

I might be the luckiest person in the world when met my boyfriend and later on the stupidest person ever to have walked away from him in such a childish manner. But up until now, I never regret.

Nor will I ever beg for an apology.

If we were really such a perfect match as I thought we were, I wouldn't have been ignored for such a long time. Things are not the way they were anymore. We didn't "talk". The mysterious connection we had in the first year that worked magic, turning the world into the brightest place exists no more.

Some may take me for a high-maintenance kind of person. They are right. I'm ready to sacrifice anything to keep our love blossom as it should. But to face such defying challenge, I need to be fueled; with kind words, phone calls, hugs, kisses or whatever that shows that I'm still cared for somehow. And without that driving force, I reached the limit and got tired, exhausted...drained.

That was enough. No more justifications. All I have to say is that I'm here again, at the starting point, as I was before 4 years ago; alone, empty and trying to fulfill my soul with my true other half who may or may not exist out there.

Quizás No Valgan La Pena...

Anteayer literalmente me marché de mi novio, por un mero hecho de estar molesto, sin ninguna despedida. Hasta ahora no he visto nada de su número en mi móvil.

A veces me reacciono de manera tan infantil que ni siquiera yo mismo me lo puedo creer. Recientemente este fenómeno se ha convertido en algo bastante raro en mi costumbre. Sin embargo, de vez en cuando no puedo dominar el capricho emocional tan bien que me salga por mis acciones considerablemente estúpidas.

Ningún tío que conozco en mi vida se marcha así como así cuando se ve molesto. Pero yo sí. Porque soy yo. Y siempre lo hacía.

No quiero buscar ninguna explicación lógica para justificar lo que hice. Era puramente emocional, provocado por la ignorancia y negligencia acumulada días tras días. No me gusta ser descartado. No quiero que me hagan caso omiso, especialmente MI novio. Me lo hicieron y sufría. Y ahora la Historia se está repitiendo otra vez. La diferencia es que esta vez me armaré con más ánimo y esperanza. Ya no jugaré más. Basta el apuesto. Bastante he perdido y no quiero perder más, ni tiempo ni nada.

Los 3 años han sido lo que sacrifiqué y puse adelante como el apuesto, pensando ganar al final, que quizás valgara la pena esperar y volver a encontrar. Todo no se derrumbe enseguida sino se corrosiona, poco a poco, carcomiendome la poco esperanza que me queda.

Si así es, será la lección más cara de mi vida. De hecho, ya lo es. He aprendido y crecido con esta ilusión amorosa, buscando el final feliz que nunca encontraré...con él.

No sé si cuando hablemos se solucionarán los problemas. No sé qué piensa de mí. No sé si se ha desvanecido la pasión. Desconozco la impresión que tiene sobre mí. Desconozco su vida sin mí. Y descozco si me reconoce cuando me vea en el sueño... jamás.

Sólo sé que quizás no valgan la pena los años que llevamos separados para volver a vernos y ... separarnos.

FW: Send This or Be a Moron

Since I have been a tad less than busy lately, I can finally waste my time in laying my eyes upon tons of forwarded emails unchecked for months and I have just discovered some interesting aspects about this phenomenon.

Some people are really ADDICTED to recieving, reading and resending these accursed series of emails. Beyond the point of enjoying the activity, they are horribly obsessed with what's in it and take it seriously. I mean they truly believe it! The promised miracles or good luck and that sort of things. I try not to be judgemental but sometimes I just can't help feeling irritated. Well, let's say...what's the point? You have passed on these messages for thousandth time and have you ever found any 4-leaf clover in your garden? No is the answer and you keep forwarding them in tiny hope of finding one someday. I'd rather investing in additional land and fertilizer to grow more clovers....well, that gives better chance than keeping your duty as an email forwarder.

More tragically, some good-hearted cybersurfers are misled by the so called one-address-per-one-cent donation. Honey, it's the second millennium, who on this capitalist earth is going to make a donation based on the untraceable, if not unprovable, text-only message like that? If you really want to be an amateur do-gooder, please spend few minutes to check the source's website whether such project really exists.

Another classic hoax similar to the case above is, for example, that a ginormous email provider of all time will start charging their users, either on per month or per year basis, very soon unless the notice is fowarded to more than XXXXXX users. Darling, they don't even have your credit card number. And even if it was true, though the biggest provider they may be, there would always be the rivals who are ready to take advantage on the situation by offering the similar or even better service for free!

This article isn't intended as an aggression to anyone in particular. I just need some space to holler my anxiety. On the other hand, a few potentially interesting emails have made their way into my inbox and, in this case, I consider myself lucky to be one of the readers. To all my friends, I still encourage you guys to keep sending constructive chain emails but perhaps less for me. I'm just full.

¿Qué Será de Nosotros?

Hoy cumplo un mes en Bangkok y, viendo atrás, todo es notablemente diferente que el día de mi llegada. Como todos los repatriados, intento de adaptarme de nuevo a la realidad, a la que, en mi caso, nunca he estado acostumbrado. Los esfuerzos han sido empeñados. Voy tejiendo poco a poco mis redes que me permitirán el aceso a la gente del círculo de mi especialidad. Me conformo con este éxito, salvo una cosa; lo que será de mi y mi novio.

Ha pasado un mes y sólo nos hemos visto 4 veces sin mucha oportunidad de hablar tanto. Estar ocupado siempre ha sido la razón que me ofrece. Obviamente, se ve que está realmente ocupado, pues, por su beca de Ph.D., que obtuvo hace casi un año. Le espera una serie de examenes, entrevistas y ensayos en el futuro muy cercano y, para poder salir con todo lo que siempre desea, tiene que esforzar más que nunca, poniendo todo en juego, incluso la estabilidad de nuestra relación.

No pienso en dejarlo ni cortar el rollo ni enfrentarme con él, y esto es mi problema. Seguiremos así sin mencionar el amenazante futuro de nuestra relación, quiza por el miedo de perder lo que tanto tiempo he intentado preservar.

Siempre nos dicen que 3 años a distancia no es un reto cualquiera y, pasado esta prueba, ya deberemos esforzarnos más que nunca por el bien de esta preciosa relación. Bueno, ¿qué opción tengo yo? Hay que seguir adelante, fuese como fuese, exactamente como dice un refrán tailandés "Una vez montado a tigre, hay que seguir allí hasta el final".

Hasta que no llegue el dicho final de nuestro drama, mucho ánimo de parte de todos de mis amigos necesitaré.

Desperately Unemployed

Twelve days are gone since I came back home for the first time in almost three years and things haven't changed much, not yet. Some say that two weeks of doing nothing are fine and I shouldn't complain too much, given that there are people who spend months, if not weeks, as job hunters without finding one.

However, I can't help feeling annoyed for being so helpless and, at times, useless. If you are looking for a demanding, or even picky, type of person when it comes to job seeking, here I am; available 24/7 and... for free!

Returning to the old lifestyle resulted shocking enough, but somehow I managed to survive the first critical week (a bit depressed though). Now I find myself in a second phase of adaptation; looking for means of survival.

Bangkok, similar to any other capitals, isn't the place where you (or me, in this case) can live happily ever after if there's no stability in your professional life. Everything costs you quite an amount of money. It seems that during my absence the inflation rate has increased considerably. Bangkok isn't a cheap place to enjoy like I thought it once was anymore.

I need LIFE. I need to do something and live my life the way the urban bourgeoisie does. I want to hang out with friends after work, drinking and gossiping about our bosses or whatever that might slip into our mind. There's so much I'm desperately wanting to do, about which I can keep on ranting to make a list of three-metre long to show the world how energetic and self-motivated I am.

All this digression might just be a result of me being jobless for too long, according to my standard, of course, or me being too worried about my future. Whatever it is, I know that I can't stay like this anymore.

Perhaps it's high time I went out (again!?) to find something to do, even if that means I'll have to kick somebody's arse to takeover his/her position. It's a world of survival anyway. ;-)

Te Dejo Madrid

Al final ha llegado el momento. La hora de despedida a todos mis mejores amigos. Aunque es muy problable que nos crucemos otra vez en algún punto de nuestro camino, la despedida nunca ha sido la cosa que se me da bien.

Simplemente quiero recordar a mis mejores amigos, a los que he tenido suerte de conocer y con los que he podido pasar buenos y malos momentos, que os quiero mucho y siempre me acordaré de vosotros.

Aunque, esta vez sí, me toca dejar Madrid para seguir adelante, pero me llevaré lo mejor que mi estancia me ha ofrecido, la amistad.

Mil besos,
Mod

Mirar Hacia Atrás

La primera memoria que tuve sobre España era la tierra rojiza y árida que se extendía infinitivamente hacia el horizonte. Estaba volando en algún punto entre Valencia y Madrid y me dije "¿Este es España? No parece Europa. No hay muchos árboles verdes. Mmmm, no es nada como esperaba".

Al aterrizar el avión, a través de la ventanilla, veía cómo los edificios de ladrillos naranja me daba la bienvenida y me dije "Hasta los edificios tiene el mismo color que la tierra. ¿Sobreviviré aquí?"

Las primeras comidas en el colegio Africa me daban miedo. No conocía a nadie, menos a un tailandés que estaba a punto de irse. No se me daba muy bien socializar con la gente. No me atrevía a saludar a otros becarios, también recién llegados.

La primera persona a la que me presenté en el comedor era Dixie, una filipina muy maja. Y con ella, iba conociendo a más gente, tanto interesante como no, hasta a todos los que habitaban el colegio.

En las primeras semanas, sentado en el escritorio, observaba el calendario anual que había dibujado en mi libreta pensando "¿Qué estaría haciendo en mayo 2005?", "¿En 2006 mi español alcanzaría al nivel que aspiro?", "¿Qué tipo de clases tendré en ese cuatrimestre?" y "¿En qué pensaría el último día de mi estancia en España?".

Las primeras clases me hacían sentir como si fuera otra vez un niño pequeño. Sentía el mismo miedo de lo que podría pasar en la clase, de las posibles preguntas que me harían los profesores, de los compañeros de clase que no me hacían caso. Me pregunté "¿Cómo seríamos nosotros cuando termináramos este curso?" y me contesté "Muy diferentes que ahora llegaríamos a ser. Siempre es así."

Al pasar el tiempo, conocía la ciudad cada vez mejor y me sentía cada vez más a gusto. Fue como si me hubiera aceptado con todo su corazón. No me di cuenta desde cuando me había enamorado de Madrid. No fue un flechazo, sino un amor que tardaba en llegar. Mejor así.

Dicen que el tiempo pasa volando y es verdad. Siempre aguardaba mi futuro regreso a mi tierra, mirando hacia adelante, hacia lo que sería de mí al pasar el tiempo, hacia lo que me esperaba y... de repente aquí estoy... mirando hacia atrás, con toda la nostalgía, que es feliz y triste a la vez.

The Day I Exploded

One of the notorious habits of the Spaniards that I can never live with is the lack of service mind and customer orientation. Prove? Just pop up in some souvenir shops, boutiques, banks, hospitals or restaurants and you'll discover the truth. You may get a 50-50 percent chance of being ignored. Some salespersons show an obvious sign of upset while being called for some assistance. Of course, they prefer standing at the counter chatting with their colleagues than attending us and getting a comission. For some family-run small business, should any problem arise, they won't give a damn. Buy it or leave it.

I have been tolerating this tragic truth for almost 3 full years until now, the day I blew a fuse in Banco Santander over a simple matter that didn't actually matter. The day before yesterday I popped off to the bank to close my account and was asked by a male staff to come back the next day since the bank needed 24 hours to have my money readily prepared. And so I did.

Yesterday at midday, I returned to the branch and a girl in charged told me the bank could only give me some large denomination notes, but the rest of my savings must be paid in 20-euro notes... Ok, I can live with that, never mind, it's money anyway...

So she closed my account and told me to get the money at the counter. When I approached, the nerdy-looking staff looked at the screen and reiterated that since I hadn't informed the bank 24 hours before closing the account, it was impossible for the bank to arrange for well-prepared notes... Me cago en la leche!

That marked the historic point where I, for the first time in 3 fucking years, exploded in anger because of an unexpectedly ineffective service.

After a barrage of criticism, I filled in a complaint form (for the first time in my life!) that was supposed to be sent to a governmental office resposible for the matter. The assistant manager tried to calm me down and finally got me several notes of larger value. At that I was satisfied.

While I was leaving the bank, I saw the branch manager, the assistant manager and the guy whom I talked to the day before in the meeting room. Of course, he had screwed up and must face the consequence. Well, at least my efforts wouldn't go in vain. I couldn't help but wondering how they work here in Spain? Why there's always some kind of miscommunication or, from time to time, no communication at all? I believe that the problem stems from an individual's bad habit that will eventually, without any proper training or correction, affect the working structure of an organization.

All in all, most companies/shops tend to offer their services they way they like, not the way the customers prefer. And that is ONE BIG OBSTACLE for them to gain the upper hand in the international market.

Sorry For Not Being There

A farewell to my beloved Toon...

Only if I didn't insist on staying...

Only if I didn't linger...

Only if my return was 10 days earlier...

I could be there to say good bye.

Every single moment with you was truly precious...

Thanks for being my best friend always.

I am sorry for not being with you in the last moment.

I hope you would always have me in your memory...

just as I will always have you in mine.

Rest in peace.

With Love,

Mod

Chronicles of Mod : Eleven Truths I Found Out About Norway

Here we go...

1. The Spaniards prove to be unconditionally noisy regardless of their location. While I was quietly enjoying the evening spring sun in the City Hall Square, a loud chattering group of Spanish tourists suddenly caught my attention. They were across the square but I could still hear their conversation as if they were sitting next beside me.

2. Norwegians seem like albinos. Pretty, beautiful and elegantly tall but bloodlessly pale (No offense!).

3. EVERYTHING is costly. A bottle of mineral water costs 3 euros and a pack of Doritos 4 euros, isn’t that nuts?

4. Too many Thais living there. Why? More investigations need to be fully done to satisfy my curiosity.

5. Contrary to the number of Asian immigrants, this country has fewer Chinese restaurants than I expected! Not that I was desperately finding one, but it surprised me.

6. Norwegian tulips are as visually appealing and beautiful as Dutch.

7. Norway doesn’t boast the architectural grandiosity as most European countries.

8. Norwegians in general can surprisingly speak English! Well, I got this low expectation based on the experience from where I’m currently living, Spain.

9. Oslo, Stavanger, Bergen (and hopefully any other cities) are sprinkled with sculptures. They are extremely obsessed with statues (Well, perhaps not “they” but “some artists”).

10. The weather in spring isn’t as freezing as I was told. In Bergen, it’s kind of wet though. Too fucking rainy.

11. Norway has sparrows and pigeons just like any other cities in the world! Furrier and a bit plumper though.

Chronicles of Mod : Dreaming of You

Last night I dreamt about you. It has been such a long time since I last saw you in my slumber. You were there waiting to pick me up at the arrival gate but somehow didn’t speak a word to me. I saw you saying good-bye to someone I didn’t know and whom you didn’t even bother to introduce to me. There was something between you two that had me disconcerted but, as always, I dared not ask. Fear grew inside me; things would never be the same between us, or at least that was what I thought it would turn out to be.

16:00, May 5th, 2007
Stavanger, Norway

Chronicles of Mod : Invading Norway, Part I (Live)

Stavanger
May 4th, 2007
22:51

Here is the first online note I've been able to made about Norway, simply becuz I'm stucked in the lodge, not knowing exactly what to do.

Stavanger is very small, so tiny that you can finish off the outdoor sightseeing within one day. I was supposed to take a stroll in the city centre in the evening, but since I overslept a great deal, I'll have to come to term with my drowsiness before deciding what next will be done.

Gay scene is off the list, as far as I know. I haven't seen any places particularly established for gays yet. Couldn't find a proper list of them on the Net either :( This is truly sad... But then again, in Oslo I may have a better luck.

I wasn't able to get to the top of The Pulpit Rock since no bus would run there till next week (Good timing!) but, nevertheless, I wouldn't let the chance to get a glimpse of it go easily. I took a fjord tour to the base of the Rock this afternoon and it was indeed impressive. Seeing the majestic Pulpit Rock covered in mist from down below was like paying homage to one of the most wonderful grand creations that Nature itself had ever made.

For now, I'll have to figure out what to do for the night... perhaps a short walk to the lake.

Así Empezó La Despedida

Hace unos días empecé a despedirme de Madrid. Salí de paseo para decir Adiós a las calles en que, durante tantos años, había pisado y pasado, a los sitios que tanto frecuentaba, acompañado y solo. Aún me quedan varios lugares donde dar la última visita, de eso no tengo prisa, que tengo un mes y medio para hacerlo.

Todo comenzó el domingo pasado. Salí emergiendo del metro Tirso de Molina, encontrando al mercado al aire libre en pleno día lleno de muchedumbre alegre. Caminaba a ritmo relajado hacia Sol y luego Sevilla para alcanzar al Retiro, donde había quedado con Por, una amiga tailandesa.

Disfrutaba ver cómo los turistas exploraban cada rinconcito del Madrid de los Austria con los ojos curiosos y cómo los madrileños gozaban del sol primaveral. Prestaba más atención a los detalles minuciosos que nunca antes había notado. Observaba la belleza arquitectónica de la parte más alta de unos edificios antiguos más importantes del centro, que tantas veces había pasado pero nunca tenía interés suficiente para detenerme a contemplarlos. Me fijaba más en la gente que se me cruzaba en la calle; cómo venía vestida, en qué hablaban, cómo sonreían, qué miraban, cómo aprovechaban el descanso dominical y qué le interesaba. En el Retiro me reuní con Por y juntos dimos un paseo muy largo pero ocioso por el parque, dando comentarios sobre temas propios y ajenos.

Las cosas que damos por bien conocidas no siempre lo son al verlas desde otros puntos de vista, desde otros ángulos. Aquella tarde me sentía tan extraño como en el primer día de mi estancia en esta ciudad. Era como si nunca hubiera estado en este metropolitano. Me parecía un lugar desconocido cuyos misterios aún se quedan por descubrir. Quizá fuera una sensación que solo una persona a la que le toca dejar el sitio que tanto tiempo ha vivido puede sentir. O quizá fuera simplemente una impresión (pre)nostálgica.

Fuera lo que fuese, a partir de aquel momento, empecé ya a echar mucho de menos de todo lo que me ofreció y ha ofrecido esta ciudad encantadora llamada Madrid.