Da Mail Rulez, #1

So after my last couple of ridiculous streams of consciousness masquerading as journal entries, I thought I would try to write a “serious one”. Not that this will be about Plato or quantum mechanics or anything, though it’s a long two years so those might be on the agenda. No, I wanted to talk about one of the little glories that is anything but little to me: mail. It is a way I can send back bits of my life to those that are interested. Blah blah blah. But more importantly (or “selfishly”) it is my window into the lives of the many people I continue to keep close even way over here. I have received a ton of awesome “snail mail” correspondences. Multiple letters on all subjects great and small. Drink flavor packets, CD’s, pictures, short stories to read, etc etc. It’s like a mini Christmas every time I get mail for while most things get to Cambodia in about two weeks, who knows when they get a chance to pay a water buffalo to bring it way out to my humble abode. But man is it worth the wait. Any and all the various offerings are not only appreciated but treasured. Almost pathetically so, at times. My host family also really enjoys seeing what I get, especially new pictures, and they always get a kick out of me laughing by myself reading a letter. Much to my chagrin, I haven’t written back as much as I wanted to, intended to, or really should have. I’m praying that this doesn’t discourage people from mailing stuff to me because I might shrivel up and die without those moments. But more on that in a few. I wanted to say there is a form of communication I’ve come to appreciate on a whole new level over here…

And that is email. Email is a much maligned system of communication. Because of the number of cubicle jobs out there, and its convenience factor, it is slapped with such labels as “impersonal” and “detached”. Technology, its true, has enabled many people to withdraw into a shell of social distance that is sad to see. But let me tell you something… I love email. It rocks my face off. I love it because even the busiest person (busiest can at times be translated as “laziest”, but details details) can drop an email with a minimal investment of time and effort, including attached photographs which are always fun to see if they can’t be mailed here. I love it because even if no one has written, I get emails from Target and Amazon.com telling me they still care about me, or at least the money they for some reason believe I have. But most of all I love it because it minimizes the huge time gap that exists when one lives on the other side of the world. As I said, I have sadly written very few letters by hand. This is definitely due in part to the pain in the ass it is to send them. My town has no post office (none that would be any use to me, at least), and while mail arrives reliably I am not as confident in the sending process. However, it is also because if there is any sort of specific issue being discussed, the delay in communication is absolutely ridiculous. Weeks to get something, and weeks to return. A question might be asked of me and by the time my answer arrived its relevance has long expired. Infuriating! But with my ghetto laptop alligator-clipped to a car battery, I can at least try to send responses in the same decade as the original letter. Internet communication isn’t instantaneous for me by any means (especially since as I am writing this, I haven’t checked it in almost a month), but it’s quite an improvement that’s for sure.

And one of the best days ever was a Monday in early June (how the hell is it July already? Must be a hole in the time-space continuum… Mom, you may be the only one to get that reference). At least I think it was a Monday. Maybe it was the 3rd… or the 10th? As my fellow volunteer Chris says “most of the time I wouldn’t know what day of the week it was if it wasn’t for the malarial pill box.” Anyway, on this particular day I had no school cause of exams (a story in and of itself) so I biked the 25 miles into town to go to the bank and check internet. Lo and behold, my Inbox of Joy held probably the best collection of writings everrrrr. I had emails of length, of substance, and of hilarity. I had emails from people that write me weekly, and emails from people that hadn’t written since I left the States. It gave me such a rush that I called Nora and when she asked “what’s going on?” I just blurted out “sorry, I just really wanted to babble about what a good day this is.” And I did just gush, feeling giddy about the phenomenon that strength can actually be zipped up and sent across an ocean to me from the people I love. And when Nora said “does it make you homesick?” I had to stop and think. Because it did. I deeply, from down in my stomach, missed everyone that I left behind to come here. And yet it served also as a reminder of the kind of people that have always led me to want to do what I’m doing and to be just where I am right now. A perfect balance, and I was renewed.

That’s what its like to get letters of any type out here. So if you ever say “nothing is really going on in my life to write about” or “this story is kind of trivial to send to Colin”, just picture me almost choking because I’m trying so hard not to laugh so loud that I get kicked out of the internet café. The Cambodians seriously think I’m insane. The idea that WWF, Britney Spears, and my giant, awkward white self are their only clues as to what America is like never ceases to crack me up.

So thank you thank you thank you for continuing to care about me. I’m spoiled by it and don’t know what I’d do without it. I love you all.