28 November 2007


So, it's the second to the last week of classes. Things are coasting to a closure. What else do I have on my plate?

For my Meso-American seminar, I already turned in my paper this afternoon. Thus, the only thing remaining is one homework, and three meetings, namely, this Thursday, and another Tuesday and Thursday next week. No finals.

For my Field Methods class, I still have to lead one class elicitation session, and I have two hours of individual sessions left for my speaker. And I have a paper that is 95% done, and I will just tie the loose knots for the next few days after I do my elicitation.

For my Statistics class, I still have two lectures, namely, Thursday this week and Tuesday next week, and a final test at the last day of class, namely, Thursday next week. I want to ace that test to guarantee that A in order to keep my record.

For my undergraduate class that I am a TA, I have a homework to grade right now, and I have another homework to grade that I will receive on the last day of classes, and I have a final test that I will grade on the last day of classes as well. I can do that in a few days after the classes end. No big deal.

And I can't wait for the end of class. Because after the class ends, I can escape reality for a few days, and do what I do best. You all know what it is.

But where? I won't say that. I can picture the faces of my Central European fan base drooling and itching to know where I am heading. Maybe I should say that I am heading to the center of the earth. Or not. I see it as an exercise in patience.

I also see it as plain reality. That my life is a separate entity by now. I can choose what bits of information I withhold from people and what bits of information I share. They say that they want to know so that they would know where to find me in case something wrong happens. Well, when they went to Paris, I never got to know about it until when they were already there. I never knew where they were staying, where their hotel was, and what their itinerary was. When I went to Quito earlier this year, I furnished my fan base with a very painfully detailed itinerary of what I was planning to do.

When my fan base went to London, I never knew of it. I only knew of it because of the postcards that came afterward. When they went to Prague for the first time, I also didn't know of it. I only knew of it when again, the postcards arrived in the mail. And when they went to Florence, I also did not know of it. And you guessed it correctly, I only knew of it when I got the postcards.

And I am pretty sure that left my grandparents in the dark as well with regard to these plans.

Why did they do so? Because it was their prerogative. It was their prerogative to not share the information. I believe I have the same prerogative.

And if they are worried about my safety, I appreciate the worry. But I am making every effort to stay safe. I am not saying I am immune to incidents and accidents, but I am trying my best to stay safe the whole time. If they worry about my safety, I also worry about their safety, but they didn't tell me where they were heading when they went to those places I mentioned above.

I guess this reminds me of a spring coil. If you pull it too close to yourself, you might be surprised how much potential energy it then contains, that you'll just realize that the moment you release it, it reaches too far for you to catch.

(The intricate ceiling once more, from my Trinity Church Series)

No comments:

Post a comment