Day 118 - Jesse, It's Time to Cook

So good

August 3rd, 2015

BOOM! Healthy. My batteries are sitting around 90%, and I wake up at 8:30 for no reason. My mind starts racing thinking about all sorts of things and projects, and I decide to hell with sleeping more. I’ve been sleeping for a week. Out of bed, I pop some pills and set up camp to start doing the work I've been feeling too shitty to actually dig into. 

Done by Noon:

-Write all blog posts up to date (Last day of Bali to today)

-Edit blog post for today

-Correspondence with school, sort out arrival date, visa, and contract

-Decide on day to go to Melbourne

-Research online businesses

-Start Online Start-up Course on AppSumo

-Two cups of tea!

-Catch up with people back home

-Sweat uncontrollably. Seems to be a side effect of the antibiotics, which advises me to avoid the sun.

Shimou and I stuffing, Bobo frying, and my former French Friend
(I never really caught his name. Valentin?)

Aaand down for a nap - I'm not a morning person. I intended to only sleep for a little while, but end up going right up to the point where I absolutely needed to shower before leaving for tonight's main event! 

The main event starts at 6 and takes place at The Old House, by which I mean my old share house. Bobo and Sandra invited me and Shimou to come make Japanese dumplings, also known as jiaozi/gyoza. 

We arrive late, around 6:45. Many familiar faces are hanging about the kitchen. Assia says hello as she heads out, cake in hand, to another event she has planned.

Left, Back to front: Me, Gaspar, Sandra, Ricardo, Dominque
Right, BtF: Shiou, Thomas, Valentin(?)

I see a tall, bearded man appears to be my replacement. How suitable. We're similar except he’s German, and named Dominique. Yes, that’s how it’s spelled - he made a point of commenting how it was like a woman's name. We chat after introductions, causing me to rudely forget to introduce Shimou to the various people there. I forgot that she hadn't met a majority of them, probably only recognizing Thomas, Gaspar, and maybe Ricardo. Bobo and Sandra introduce themselves, moving things forward from there toward stuffing the dumplings together. I tease Sandra, asking what her contribution to this event is. She says she’s minding the stove. “Oh, boiling water. Difficult job. Hold on, is it boiling yet? ...No. Gotta keep watching,” I tease.

Sandra doing her part (finally)

Bobo tells us that she’s a bumpkin* - country folk. I'm surprised she even knows that term, but now that she says so, I can kind of tell. It’s interesting to see “country folk” from a culture as different as Japan, but I get it. French Thomas makes crêpes, and we enjoy the spoils of our effort with the dumplings while some people proceed to get a little tipsy and/or stoned. Some cultures don't understand when you say no - especially to alcohol - but luckily antibiotics is a good enough reason for this crowd.

Thomas and I talk about languages while Shimou and Bobo speak Japanese in the background. Apparently he speaks English, French, and German, as well as a little Arabic. I told him the basic rules of Mandarin, which he seemed to follow. He’s 24, and actually reminds me of myself a few years ago, ideological- and perspective-wise. Seeing your own flaws can sometimes be grating, but I know how to cope with them and what those types behaviours are looking to achieve (from first hand experience). I'm also pretty sure he’s smarter than me. 

Enjoying the Last Dumpling

It’s hard to believe this is probably the last time I’ll be in a place that I’ve spent so much time. Dominique let me take a peek in my old room, which looks much messier than when I had it. He said the place was too clean when he first moved in and grabbed a bunch of stuff just to toss around to make it feel more like home. Sure man, whatever you like. During our introductory conversation, we talked about politics, solar power, among other things. He asked what I studied, and was surprised that it was Psychology. He said it was because I seemed knowledgeable about a bunch of topics. He’s not the first one to say this, though I'm not sure what people expect psych people to be like. More like my hyper-sensitive, bleeding heart type colleagues, perhaps? In either case, I like not being easily put in a box. Literally and metaphorically.

Shimou has class at 9am the next morning. We excuse ourselves, say our goodbyes, and I pickup/hug both Bobo and Sandra at the same time. It was a pleasure meeting Thomas, and I wish him the best on his travels. I’ll be interesting to see who he becomes in the next few years. Blackbelt in 3 martial arts, aims to speak 10 languages, going through for, I think, medical school... yeah, definite renaissance man in the making if he chooses it.

Shimou and I walk back to the train station. The pain killers I’ve been taking have been cut out due to their undesirable side effect that’s leaving me constantly full of uncomfortable abdominal pressure. Ironic (I think...) side effect for their intended use… We ride the rail home, do some more work, and turn in.

*literally the word she used

Editing Music
Hunger of the Pine
Alt-J