Success and Failure

Sometimes I feel a little down because I am not living the American version of "the good life" I don't have a nice house in the suburbs with a dog, and a cat, and a white picket fence. Financially, I am in what would be the lower middle class in the United States. In Mexico, it is true I am in the upper middle class and live fairly well by local standards but I am not able to save at the rate I wish. I must admit one of the reasons I left the U.S. is because I no longer wanted to live on the wrong side of financial divide. Being poor in America is like being a servant in a rich mans estate, you are surrounded my the trappings of wealth but unable to possess any. I do not claim any grand solutions to poverty or class division, being a professional slacker precludes me from offering any and I have no problem with people making tons of money provided the pay their fair share of taxes. I do not believe the mere possession of great wealth is an indicator of character. Donald Trump is a pig, no question. But Bill Gates and Warren Buffett are giving away the vast bulk of their estates to build a better world so it is fair to judge what such people do instead of just who they are.
Myself, I am a nobody. Always have been and always will be. I suppose if I continued to live in America I would have developed resentments at the "haves" but here I am pretty much surrounded by "have nots" and it helps keep everything in perspective. Even though I am a nobody, I feel I have lived a very fortunate life. I have seen more of the world than most people. I have tons of free time to read, play video games, etc. I have a very attractive young wife and two healthy beautiful sons. I have no disability or health problems. Life for me is good, better than probably 90% of the worlds population. I don't say any of this to brag, more in a way to count my blessings. I think that being free of petty resentments allow me to view things in slightly more unbiased fashion. I don't measure success on how much money I have or what status I possess, I measure success on the quality of life lived.

Isolation

A way to be a hermit, besides living in the jungle and eating bugs and grass is to move to a foreign country whose language you don't speak and where few people speak English. When I first moved to the countryside in China, and later to the countryside in Mexico there can be weeks that go by where I seldom say more than a few sentences to other people. It is also helping me learn the language a lot quicker then I otherwise would have, but, as of now my Spanish is still fairly low level. The dirt and loneliness ain't so bad, but being a hermit doesn't necessarily mean being hungry. The best part of being this kind of hermit allows me to take a vacation from being myself, to the chinese I am a "laowai" and laowai jiu shi laowai (foreigners are always foreigners). It is pretty much the same here in Oaxaca. I am a guero, or the male equivalent anyway. The real goal of being a hermit is not to be inside yourself but to leave yourself behind.

Tom Dayon: RIP

Here is a picture of Tom, he is the gray haired man in the middle of the picture. The Asian looking boy in the multicolored shirt in the back of the picture is his son Travis. This was at a picnic at his house in New Jersey and everyone was watching a home video of a Martial arts tournament. He had the picnic every year and it was always something I looked forward to, even after I moved abroad I always made sure if I were to go home for a visit to make sure it was around the same time as his picnic. He had a unique way of making people feel welcomed and accepted.

Absence

I had mentioned in one of my previous posts that I take a part of America with me wherever I go, but I also leave an important part behind. Certainly, one of the most difficult things about living abroad is being separated from friends and loved ones for extended periods of time. Yahoo messenger with video, internet phoning, and emailing make the distance seem smaller but it is never enough. Friends go out, children grow up, relatives get together for dinner, all without my presence. The opportunities and adventures of living abroad must be weighed against what is lost. It is a trade off that many people can not accept, and I understand why. It is a way of life I accept often with regret and some small measure of guilt. And there are days when it is filled with deep sadness.
Thomas Dayon of West Milford New Jersey died on June 2 when his single engine airplane he was flying alone in crashed in New York. Tommy was and is a much beloved man in West Milford, and as much a fixture of the town as the Post Office or the Library. He owned Hewitt lumber supply for many years. I knew him for nearly sixteen years and if I had half of Tommys energy my webpage would instead be called expatmillionaire. He was a decent and generous man, even after having a houseful of three beautiful girls he and his wife adopted a Korean boy. Never have a man and boy been more suited to be father and son as Tommy and Travis, forever putting to rest the lie that only blood makes a family. He had the exuberance of a man half his still young 53, doing everything from water skiing, sky diving, to martial arts- you name it, Tommy tried it and was good at it. If they have team sports in heaven then I say watch out St. Peter and make sure you are on Tommys side if you want to win. He will be forever missed and always in our hearts.

Politics

One of the benefits of living abroad is freeing oneself from the rank partisanship that exists in America. It might sound terrible to say but the Iraq war has absolutely no impact on my life, I don't pay any taxes in the United States so even in that marginal sense it does not affect me. The talking heads on Fox news or CNN are simply a diversion. I believe in being informed but I know it is only for my own edification. I also know that whatever I believe or think regarding the body politic will have no effect on anyone whatsoever. Perhaps it would be the same if I lived in the states. I would be one of 300 million people, nameless and faceless except to the small group of people in my life. But here it is different. I am not troubled by those things that are beyond me, such as the war, the deficit, taxes, high gas prices, etc. It seems the past 6 years have been a wearying time to be an American (unless you are rich, of course, then this is your golden age). It is nice to live each day as it unfolds below me like a beach blanket on a sandy beach. Is this irresponisble of me? Perhaps, but I did not call this blog expatslacker for nothing!

A different kind of freedom

Living abroad provides a different perspective. You live in the country without ever being truly part of it. In a way, you are an American island in a foreign sea. I remember a few years ago I was taking a boat ride down the Li river from Guilin to Yangshuo in Southern China with a Chinese friend. During the cruise I alternately read the novel Kim and looked at the scenery. My friend asked me why I was reading, it was hard to explain, especially in my limited Chinese, that in a sense I was at three places at once. I was absorbed in a book about 19th century India, I was also looking at the China of peoples dreams, the Karst Mountains shrouded in mist and fog, and I was also home in America, inasmuch as we always take part of our home with us where ever we go. It was an all together different sensation than what I had visiting Zion National park. I was struck by Zions beauty and I would recommend everyone visit there, but it did not have that ineffable quality that existed that day on the river. It was a boat ride of but a few hours, yet that sensation lingers with me to this day.