Equal Thirds

Over the course of the last five months, I’ve come to realize that my heart has divided loyalties. One third is dedicated, through nostalgia and familial affection, to Muskoka. One third is, much to my delighted surprise, proudly affiliated with the Pacific Northwest. And the final third, ever ready to cause complications and inspire adventures, rests wholly in Asia. While I cannot reconcile the three parts, I do not wish to. It simply means that I will remain a penniless backpacker, firmly rooted in family and snow-capped mountains framing saltwater harbours and the stillness of a Buddhist temple and the urban clamour of 10 million people and the international language of pingpong until the end of my days.

Thailand was beautiful. It was also heartbreaking. The casual destruction of the Koh Samui environment for a few more jungle spas and hill-top resorts truly detracts from the island’s beautiful beaches and tourqoise waters. The endless stream of men with one (or even multiple) Thai prostitutes by their sides became almost blasé. And I had forgotten just how fat the Western world really is. But none of these details could spoil the two weeks for me, or for Jeff. We found ourselves a few excellent little bungalows in which to hide, retreated to the tiny island of Koh Tao and managed to play pingpong and gin to our hearts content. Honestly, I think we’d find Kabul amazing if there was a pingpong table and beer available. I also really loved Bangkok, particularly once we left the shady tourist areas and saw some of the smaller temples and the “JJ” Weekend Market. Jeff was a bit shocked at the pollution and garbage, but compared to Chennai, Bangkok felt like being in a Western city. There were 7-11 stores! And Starbucks! And hot showers! Oh my! (Of course, I live happily and well without these things…particularly Starbucks…but I had to have my soy latte nevertheless.)

Koh Tao was supposed to be a one-night stop-over, but we ended up spending five nights tucked away in various coves overlooking a variety of absolutely stunning vistas. The best snorkelling I’ve ever had, ATVs on the island’s otherwise innavigable roads, and sushi and wine to top off the week. Romantic as hell, to be sure, and Jeff spoiled me rotten. But I think both of us grow tired of only vacationing together – I welcome the day when we can really make a day-to-day life together. Watch out, world!

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On Wednesday evening I leave for Delhi. 38 hours (if I’m lucky) on the Tamil Nadu Express Train. I hope to arrive by Friday at 11am, when I’m due to take possession of Tara’s stall at the World Book Fair in India’s capitol city. The Fair itself runs Feb. 2-10, and I’ll be in Delhi until the 11th. I’m incredibly excited to visit northern India (south Indians have quite the prejudice against the north, and vice-versa), as well as partake in my first real book fair. Meetings on foreign rights and collaborative efforts and author signings and upcoming projects. An opportunity few North American publishers could offer me. And yet another experience to satiate the third of my heart so deeply in love with this place.

But the two remaining thirds clamour for attention, as do my personal finances. And in oversimplifying my reasons and my decision for the sake of brevity and privacy, I will simply state here that I have decided to leave Chennai early, to return to Muskoka via the UK (Doug and Li) and NYC (Dave), and to be back at Mountain Trout House when the ice melts and the first boats need to be launched in mid-April. Come first week of May, should the universe continue to send blessings my way, I hope to be moving into a small red house with a big yellow lab on a hill overlooking Green Lake in Seattle, WA. The world is a strange, funny and delightful place sometimes. Baruch Hashem.