아침부터 난리람?

언니야, 안넝?

일찍 일어나서 일한다는게 또 의자에 앉아 졸았다.
목이 무지 아파서 집중이 안되길래 주유소에 나가서 커피 코코아를 타왔다.
이른 아침이라 분위기가 엄청 살벌했다.
장거리 운전을 해야 하는 트러커들로 커피바는 붐볐고, 캘리포니아 에서 살다온 동양 여자는 신기하게 처다보는 인간들이 적응이 잘 안됨을 또 한번 느꼈다.

잠꼬대의 왕 남자친구 깰라 문을 조용히 닫고 컴퓨터를 열었다.
언니 한테 새로 사진을 올렸다는걸 알리러 블로그에 들어왔다.
http://picasaweb.google.com/lee.sun.j

사실은 더 많은데 친구랑 카메라를 돌려가며 찍어서 내가 찍지 않은 사진도 들어있는 앨범은 안 올렸다. 보고 싶으면 언니가 말해주길.

젠장 이 이십 아온스 커피는 내가 한글을 쓰는 시간에 내 뱃속으로 이미 다 이동해 버렸다.
미친것!

For 'how are people coping with the past?'

너무 졸리웠다. 못한다 안한다는 말은 죽어도 않는 은미의 성격을 알기에 여러 번 다짐했지만, 일정 자체가 무리였고, 은미는 무작정 과속으로 달리고 있었다. 아차 정신을 차렸을 때에는 차는 균형을 잃고 중앙선을 넘어서 공터를 미친듯 덜컹거리며 달려가고 순간 나는 깨달았다. '사고구나' - 반사적으로 '괜찮아 괜찮아' '브레이크' 하고 은미 쪽으로 몸을 돌리고 나서는 - 정신을 잃었던 것 같다. 눈을 뜨자 몸이 병원 침대 위에 뉘여져 있다는 것과 그 침대가 돌돌이 바퀴 침대라는 것 응급실로 들어가고 있다는 것 낯선 사람들이 내게 영어로 말을 걸고 있다는 것을 알았다. 은미는 옆에서 미친듯 내 이름을 부르면서 괜찮아요? 를 반복하고 있었다. 음.. 다쳤구나. 어디를 얼마나 다친걸까. 의외로 침착한 마음이었다. 누군가 내게 영어로 괜찮은지, yes라는 대답에 그럼 이름은? hojin chang. c. h. a. n. g. 직업은? student. in uc berkeley. 키는? one hundred sixty three centimeter. I'm sorry, i'm always confused in inches. 몸무게는? 110. - but I gained some weight recently. think I need a diet. can you write down 110 anyway? 그가 웃었다. 얘 농담한다. she's fine. 내가 어떤 상태인지 알아야한다는 생각이 들었다. how much did I get hurt? 내 질문에 그들은 차례로 내 교통사고 정황과 친구는 무사하다는 것, 그리고 나는 머리를 부딪혔고 목을 조금 다쳐서 지금 사진을 찍을 것이라는 것, 그리고 이곳은 handford의 병원 응급실이라는 것을 이야기해주었다. 잠시 후 사진을 찍고나서 의사가 왔다갔고, 그들은 내게 내 눈이 점점 lacoon eyes가 되어서 혹시 머리에 이상이 있을지 모르니 큰 병원으로 옮겨서 다시 검사를 받는 게 좋을 것 같다고 했다. 너구리눈? 머리에 이상있으면 안되는데. - 난 은미를 불러서 내 핸드폰을 가지고 있으면 거기서 은주와 renee 그리고 예진을 찾아서 전화를 해달라고 했다. 말 하는 게 힘이 들었다. 조금 후에 나는 다시 엠뷸런스를 타고 다른 병원으로 이송되는 것 같았다. 한 남자 간호사가 함께 타고 있는 듯 했다. 그는 내게 앞서 누군가가 물은 이름 직업 키 몸무게를 같은 순으로 물었고 노트북에 무언가 기입하는 것 같았다. 나는 차 이동이 무리였는지 공간 감각이 이상해지면서 정신이 멀어지는 것 같았다. 그 때였다. 그 간호사는 'how wonderful you are-' 하는 말을 두 번 반복하고는 그 노트북을 내 다리 사이에 올려놓았다. 명백히 교묘한 고의였다. 나쁜-무서운 사람 - 아무도 주위에 없구나 - 순간적으로 여러 생각이 머리를 스쳐갔다. 차가 어딘가에 도착하는 것 같았다. 친절한 목소리들이 들려오고 그들은 나를 들어 다른 침대로 옮겨 실었다. 여자의 목소리. 흑인이구나. 안심이 조금 되었다. 그녀는 내 허락을 구한 후 내 아래 위 속옷을 가위로 잘라내고 소변기를 끼웠다. 둔탁한 아픔이 느껴졌다. 나는 그녀에게 옷을 잘 덮어달라고 말했다. sweetie, don't worry. 얼굴은 보이지 않았는데 분명 아줌마다. 조금지나자 의사들이 의견을 나누는 소리가 들려왔다. 이것좀 보라고 하는 걸 보니 내 너구리눈이 뭔가 구경거리가 되는모양이었다. 아무래도 누군가 내 편이 필요하구나. 하는 생각이 스치고 지나갔다. 영어를 할 줄 아는 의사. 은미를 불러달라고 해 나는 은주에게 전화를 다시 해달라고 했다. 은주의 친구인 예전에 본 일있는 닥터김이 지금 오고있는 중이라고 했다.
조금 지나자 눈을 애써 뜰 수 있었다. 응급실의 기둥이 보였다. 젊은 의사가 와서 내 신경을 검사하고 갔다. 저쪽에서 바바리를 휘날리면서 닥터김이 서둘러 뛰어오는게 보였다. 그 사람의 의견으로도 너구리눈 때문에 머리가 걱정될 뿐 특별히 다른 신경손상이 보이지는 않는다고 했다. 조금 지나자 차례로 dan과 예진이 도착했다. 내일 아침까지 경과를 봐야하니 하루밤 병실에 있어야한다고 했다. ( car accident - 너구리눈편 ^^)

emotion and reason

if I have, I would give it to you, my friend. :) To me, pity is something you feel with a certain distance, but compassion is something you can't just leave from, something make you act. I am not a big fan of Kundera anymore, but he kinda define love like this; love is something you can't turn around and leave without any 'reason'. You share this weird 'sym-pathy' with somebody(total stranger)- and this sympathy is the highest emotional state we can achieve while we live.well, I feel a little bit sad about his definition on love - bc even though I agree with his attempt to be 'really honest' about our 'being'- or maybe I should say our 'clumsy-selfish-being', but, don't have to lie that we are so cool and selfish like that. If we are, what the hell he is doing, all mumbling about 'desire to be one' or whatever 'sym-pathy' or things? No offense to my ex-favorite writer ^.- , for I totally agree with him in that love starts from 'action' not just 'imagining inside of oneself', and I really respect our peaceful-honest 'existentialist tradition', and their fear about crazy heart, but it seems like a very 'full of being afraid' definition to me. Yeah, He likes stravinsky, and so do I, and we all are afraid of wars(crazy heart also), but I am afraid of his 'passive-right' answer too. Is life a thing really really I have to be afraid of like that? Do I really have to see myself with that point of view? Maybe that's right answer 'being a cool' or maybe 'warm'.

However, I am a foolish. Hell with 'being right'. - choose either hot or cold. ^.-

la politica

Everyone in Timor seems to have been intensely involved in the independence struggle. I don’t think anyone is neutral when it comes to politics. They all have very strong opinions, and I attribute it to the tradition of wanting something and actually seeing it get done. Circumstances have facilitated this—while in bigger countries, political will and action are wieldy and clumsy at best when they try to become actualized, in a small and young government like Timor’s, it is a few people at top who makes the decisions and the politicians who can sway their opinion are in relative easy reach of the people.

This notion came to me as I was looking for people to interview in Timor. I wanted to find people that have had interesting and notable experiences during the independence struggle and upon its inauguration in 1999. I thought I would only be able to find a handful of people that would be willing to talk to me, but in fact, I realized I had a wealth of readily accessible sources all around me. Every Timorese friend I asked had a relative who was an important part of the movement or had an interesting perspective. Such was the case in my interview with Janio’s dad. My friend Sergio (who, by the way, must be the best translator in Timor) was busy and couldn’t translate for me one day and he called his friend Janio to sub for him. Janio was not an impressive translator—he refused to do some things I asked him to do (like calling to schedule appointments) and gave me a lot of stress but if nothing else he introduced me to wonderful interviewees.

Janio told me about how his father had close relations with Xanana (the former president and current prime minister of Timor) during the revolution. I was excited by this piece of information and when I went down to Same during a visit to Hato Udo province, I specifically looked for Janio’s father and interviewed him. It was probably one of the best pieces of footage I had ever acquired during my time there—not only in terms of content, but lucky me--aesthetics as well.

compassion

I guess one day pity must turn into compassion. But where does this process begin? Am I even on the right path? I am 'indifferent' now...I wonder if this is that slope between pity and compassion or if I haven't even gotten to 'pity.'

unni, you had the answers...enlighten me.

oh, my april update for JLS--just FYI

April update

Never before did I imagine windstorms in tropical climates. But the final stretch of my time in Timor was nothing less than just that. The theoretical fundamentals anchoring my project violently tousled about and spiraled into a chaotic whirlwind that wouldn’t stay wrapped around my head. By theoretical fundamentals, I am referring to the ideas I went into Timor firmly believing—in particular the self-proclaimed resolution that a concept such as absolute justice exists. Why, I thought, of course there were rights and wrongs and I had no qualms pointing them out. But with the gradual maturation of the project came first the hesitation to speak with such audacity, which was then followed by a sincere silence fueled by honest introspection.

Seeking answers regarding positivist concepts such as justice seemed grossly inappropriate when the questions themselves opened up to so much theoretical reflection. My initial intention to point to moral absolutes in examining Timor’s historical injustices amounted to nothing more than the quintessential mistake internationals make when they come to Timor to ‘do good.’ That is—working from one’s own pre-conceived notions instead of adapting to the local circumstances and devising creative solutions. We see this in all types of international work—whether in law, development, health, etc.

I was frustrated by the rise of these questions not only because it suffocated that naïve hopefulness I came to Timor with but also because these mental stirrings brought my initial boiling enthusiasm to a simmer and thus tempered my productivity. On the other hand, I’ve tried to mitigate such suspicion by telling myself that this may be plain academic snobbery, and it might as well be. I, as an outsider who has a ridiculously small stake in this in comparison to the locals, have the leisure to step back and ponder these questions in the comfort of my California home.

I never expected a rainbow-colored happy ending. But right now no ending seems to exist. I had planned to criticize the current state and thereby impose moral judgments but I have come to wonder whether absolutes can have its place in a society where reality is best understood in relative terms. So here I am, awaiting departure from this country I have failed to fall in love with, but without the much-yearned-for conclusion regarding my initial inquiries. No, actually—the answers couldn’t be any clearer, but I want now, to lay them where I found them--there in its entire cacophonous array. I have thought and then thought again only to become more ashamed of the desperate effort at interpretation.

Four plus months of being in Timor also affected me physically and emotionally. The all-consuming nature and methodology of this study became nourishment for a type of existential depression and trying not to have it personally affect me because a daily and conscious task. Listening to painful confessions of victims became more exhausting as the hours added up, and interviews became a dreadful affair. In order to stay sane, I had to space out interviews so I could give myself some time to flush out emotional residue in between.

Timor is not letting go of its grip upon this phase of my life. This is not a mere metaphor, for I have found Timor to have such an effect on others as well. When asked, individuals express strong feelings about Timor. The opinions run extreme—they either hate it or love it--but one thing they can agree on is Timor’s ability to permanently change people. At the end of my period in Timor, I also felt that Timor impacted me in rather irreparable ways. Could it be a cynicism rooted in maturity? Could it be disappointment at a failed love? I can’t even pinpoint what exactly was the thing that changed me, let alone define how I have changed. But I am a different person in multiple ways and I can no longer go back to seeing the world in the light I did before this experience. I really am leaving a part of me behind in Timor.

good coffee

unni, this is my 30th ounce of coffee in less than 2 hours. there is a gas station right across from our house and it's awesome (or not). but it's good to be wired, as i am now! I am writing you about 'speedoman' right now. 기대하시라.