Insomnia (insomnia) wrote,

  • Music:

A beautifully wet evening...

I finished my last cigarette (yes, I smoke, albeit sparingly. It took me about 2 months to finish a pack of cloves) so I threw on what was available... which, since the laundry is in the process of being washed, was a blue dress shirt, leather pants, and a big black trenchcoat... and trudged off to the nearby liquor store. It rained unsparingly, cleansing my mood, heightening my senses, and soaking my hair, which has grown long and tousled.

I reached the local store, stepping in to find the place deserted, with the exception of the store owner, a northern Indian Sikh, eyes closed, face in a state of bliss, listening to a piece of music that was obviously a spiritual tract... long and intricate... beautiful and emotive.

I felt awkward, breaking his trance, walking up to the counter with Guinness, asking for cloves and a lighter. His face was still in bliss.

"Hello, my friend." he said, radiantly beaming. I returned his courtesy, slapped down a twenty, asking for cloves.

"Here... no here.. these ones are better!" he grinned, ringing me up...

I took my change, bid him goodbye, and headed back through the rain to my porch, where I smoked a clove and thought...

The world is so beautiful... but mostly at the borders and edges where cultures meet and intertwine... remove the artificial borders of states and principalities, and you are left with people and lands, flowing into each other... the way Europe influences the Balkans, influenced by the Turks... blending into the Arabs... the Arabs blending into Africa and into India... and the way that their culture blends into Southeast Asia...the way that Laos blends into Thai blends into Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Hawaiian, and the way that all of the cultures of the world blend into where I live... a city made up of industrious people from around the world... Hispanics, who had settled in San Jose and San Francisco before the arrival of the United States, Chinese who came to build the railroads across America and who fled from mainland China after the communists took power, Japanese who settled in the early 1900s, Blacks who were lured to the docks of the Bay Area in World War II who built the ships that won the war, Southeast Asians that fled all that they knew in search of a place where they could live in peace, Indians and Pakistanis and Koreans and people from all around the world, coming to take part in the new economy...

I may leave this area one day, but if I do, I will miss that... the way that so many people from so many places can get along so well, yet have their own distinct, special communities. If you come to visit the Bay Area, be sure to visit more than a bridge or a tower... be sure to visit the people as well. We're mixed and stirred together, but you can sense the ebbs and flows... all the more flavor, I think.

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