So now I've reached the ten day countdown for flying to Bangkok. I've been enjoying the fabulous weather in Portland over the last week. This city has become so familiar to me-- and after four years, I feel it is more my "hometown" than the actual place I was born and raised. I've purchased most of my remaining supplies for the trip. Hopefully, my final pack weight will
be around 25 pounds. The only thing that could really tip the scales is books. My Lonely Planet travel guide. A novel, which I still haven't decided on yet. And my black bound notebook, which will hopefully contain a much more thorough journal than similar notebooks chronicling past travel experiences. I've been thinking a lot about India. Returning to southeast Asia is also rekindling nostalgia for my experiences studying abroad in Mysore and travelling around south India and Nepal 4 years ago. I'm saddened by the latest clashes in Kathmandu because I vividly remember my time there. I also have several friends who will be going to India this summer. I find myself imagining them going through the similar experiences of intense culture shock-- the teeming masses, the poverty, the smells, the rich history and architecture and spiritual undercurrent that is India.

Culture shock-- I'm bracing for it now. I'm incredibly excited about going to Thailand, but sometimes I wake up a bit terrified and feeling more than a little crazy. I imagine the stifling heat, the language barrier, the loneliness, the simple fact that all of my material possessions make up only 1/6th of my total body weight. The fact that I'm a deaf guy doing this alone. My most important possessions, other than the requisite passport and plastic, are my hearing aid and glasses. In other words, my senses, my consciousness, my faculties, the things that make up, on the most basic level, my life and soul. That's all for tonight...