After twenty hours of travel and 48 hours without sleep, I have landed in what feels like a parallel universe. It looks like a place I remember: there are people, cars, paved roads – places I recall. I’m supposed to know this place, but it feels alien. Describing this sense of disconnected-ness, a friend related it to time-travel and that fits except I’ve crossed cultures in the process. Having sold my house, I am “homeless,” in a way that is both exhilarating and unsettling. I’m incredibly blessed to have friends who have taken me into their beautiful and extremely luxurious home. I feel like Alice in Wonderland must have felt when she fell down the rabbit hole.
It’s a strange new world: soft bed, no mosquito net, down pillows and comforter, a bath TUB, a toilet! More importantly a toilet that doesn’t require a two-foot long mingling stick to flush … and fridge that works full time and is stocked with things like cheese and pickles and… and… and. I went to wash clothes and discovered twin stainless steel monoliths facing me. Adorned with control panel to rival that of a space shuttle, blinking blue lights with 20 possible selections of how to wash I wondered it they might also orbit. Does it speak? Well – not yet anyway.
Next, there is the car and I am allowed to drive it. Ah! no key but a button that begs pushing. I like keys. They make me feel safe and grounded. Well – get over it. This car is push button and when I do (push the button) my seat glides silently and ever-so-smoothly into exactly the right position and the car hums to into action. Windshield wipers think for themselves and come on when it begins to sprinkle, mysteriously speeding-up and slowing-down to match both rain intensity and car speed. Said car locks with a mere swipe of the finger… I have to check the back seat door to convince myself it’s locked, because if I touch the driver’s door, it unlocks and we have to start the verification process all over again. So-long to my long-standing compulsion to double check the door by pulling on it. Foiled again. Last night I discovered that the headlights also have a mind of their own – I had them on bright at one point and they dimmed when I was at a stoplight.
Jet lag and realty shock play strange games with the mind. I lose things or forget where I put them moment to moment. The storage locker I so carefully organized before I left was not quite as well ordered as I remembered. The boxes I thought were in front so I could access them were “not there.” Had to completely unload an 8×10 storage room to discover that a box of critical items as far from the front as they could be: back wall – half way up. Now I have found most of my clothes, but keep losing them in the room I’m in because—well just because. Yesterday, I was late getting somewhere because I’d lost my underwear by putting it in alogical place that was SO logical I couldn’t find it in my mental fog. So now I’ve relocated the essentials – for the moment. I’m sure they are moving themselves around in the night. At any rate, SOMETHING is waking me at 3:30 in the morning. It’s the biorhythm thing and it sucks.
have eaten my way into the new world: Mexican food, BBQ, toast made in a real-honest-to god toaster, eggs with yellow yolks, cheese, pickles, Torche’s tacos. There are stripes down the road, stop signs and red-lights and people know what to do with them! There is a startling absence of cows, chickens and goats on the road – where are they? Bicycles don’t have live chickens handing from the handlebars and waiting to be sold.