Strawberry fields forever

by Ewcyna
Familiar sight. Vistula and strawberry fields?
and in Bangkok..
class meeting

What's up on your side??

What's up..? Well… I came for a while.

For how long? ? When are you going back? Will we have time to meet?

That's right. I came, not came back . This is the right verb.

Remarkable, that no one poses the questions differently. You know me by now.

I do not know yet for how long. This time the ticket was one-way only. I'll probably stay 2 months. maybe 3, We'll see anyway.. I came to fix a few urgent matters. Plan my future. Refresh my perception of the world around and myself, to breathe. TO TALK.

The lungs get a deep breath, of fresh spring air. Maybe a little too fresh as for late-May standards, I quickly catch a cold, but the most important thing, is that I can finally breathe at all. May. The most beautiful month of the year. I realize, that last 4 years I was not in Poland in May. It's almost a crime! The world is reborn, sinks in tones of the fresh green, Lilac is blooming, lilllies of the valley too, everything blooms. I've made it to see lilac blooming!

And how do you feel here?

I get a bite of strawberries, the flavor which until recently I was dreaming of, telling stories, that, in Asia they are ridiculously expensive 20 dollars per kilogram!. Before my eyes scrolling the scenes from the last months of my life as the scenes from the film. Pictures, in some of the same it is hard for me to believe sometimes sitting on a comfortable sofa now. This amazing ability of the mind to reject this worse, and wrong. Selects the most beautiful moments and repeats them endlessly. Maybe not always though?

Scene one. Laos. when I got this email, a letter from You my friend I read it on a gas station on a hot day, tears welled up in my eyes and trying to stop them I left to the toilet where they started rolling down my cheeks and I sat there not wanting to go out and not wanting them to show to the world and his, but did not make it. I have washed my face, went back but they started running down again. Are you crying? What happened? He asked and I did not know what to say. Women sitting nearby watched us in silence thinking probably, that I quarrel with my travel companion and he also sat there confused and a little helplessly trying to comfort me. I started to long for home.

Scene two. Vietnam. World, that constantly pushes me on the shoulder with a sound of hundreds horns and disabling with heat. From day to day is getting worse. Day after day I search internet with the hope that will help me make a right decision . In the end I buy ticket, and even two – since I left some of my stuff in Thailand. Farewells, that break my heart. Loneliness means the freedom?? Freedom is for me the most important value, But recently I do not know what to choose, though I've always put on freedom first.

Scene three. Bangkok again. In the middle of the night I arrive to my host Toom, which leads me to the room upstairs of his big house. There are three beds there, on one someone is sleeping. Kitchen with dozens of paper pages on its walls, sticky notes, bigger and smaller, postcards, drawings and pictures with words of thanks. It looks like, It's a place with tradition, that many has adopted and accommodated many travelers. In the morning I wake up, I make myself a cup of tea, then coffee, get some biscuits from my bags for breakfast. I don't see anyone. It is 10 then 11 o'clock. Noon - no change. I am alone? Feeling somehow strange, I do not even know well where I am .. I need to buy something, need to go out. a strange feeling, alone in an unknown, big house. In the end, nearly at 1 PM someone is coming from the second room. Two young Russians, whom I met the previous night in the kitchen while they were drinking beer. For some reason I do not find them friendly, but, fortunately and finally the host appears too.

Within a few days, that I spend in his house slowly getting used to the reigning there lifestyle. Faces change often. There are some French people, one funny Spaniard, who goes to Burma, sunburnt to red colour Russian couple, a handsome German Alex, that almost 3 years is travelling around Asia and probably not planning to go back to Europe soon since it looks like he's been staying here for long. Toom is taking care of each guest, talking, cleaning, changing bed linen. I wonder what pushes people to this kind of behavior, to open their doors of their homes and life.

Overpowering air stuffiness, that ends up every day in the afternoon with a powerful downpour. Sweat constantly running down my face and I have a feeling that it is draining stains on my face and body, the air is still, sticky. I can't stand my wet from sweat body, but you cannot fight it. If not the working fan, i would have died probably. I am able to leave the housing at the earliest about 4 PM, Moreover, earlier the streets are empty since people hide in their homes in shade and only come out in the evening. So I stay in the room until afternoon with soe breaks to take a shower, I'm trying to embrace the plan virtually my future. And so for almost two weeks.

Scene four. Poland. Put potatoes on, I will be there in half an hour! I'm calling from the airport. The thought of the young potatoes haunts me now for many days now. Let's forget rice and noodles! I'll eat potatoes, until I can! At the grocery store my hands nearly shaking wantto to put to the basket almost everything . Cottage cheese, milk, pickled cucumbers, chocolate, bread! And in general I would at everything.

Now the scenes are moving faster and faster. Meetings, encounters, conversations, meetings, conversations, meetings. Meeting with my mates from high school after years, I'm so happy, you are super!. Bike trip with old and new friends from Crotos. And sitting for hours every day looking for a job in .. Asia. From September starts the school year, They probably need teachers? Apparently the need, and I need a job.

You're still here? I'm afraid, that you will leave soon. I am happy, that you are here.
Aaaaaa! 🙂

I am still here, but, not so for too long. Maybe a few days more. I will go, meanwhile in Poland. I miss my cycling routine and at the same time travelling no-routine, naps on the way, mornings in the tent, Curling in a hurry at dawn, search for accommodation in the evening. Meetings on the road. To new scenes.

Living is easy wit eyes closed..
Strawberry fields forever (The Beatles)

ps. A to few words morej on my journey through Asia in Heike, the Pushbikegirl (in English)

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However, 18 June 2015 - 19:10

Ewa! I beg you write a book! On the shelves of such trash and I was swallowing your words and the desire grows and grows….

Viol 19 June 2015 - 11:52

I sign the petition! Your book! two years ago we talked about this, Do you remember?

Ewcyna 19 June 2015 - 11:56

All in all, I like to write yet .., but think how long it took me to write this post is to write a book I'd have to hole up somewhere for a year probably. I believe, że mi się uda 🙂

Stanislaw 16 August 2015 - 10:32

Ewa , I wish ,I will not be able to be in-the-know on your bicycle stories from Asia……maybe someday …you start to Colossae in Gdynia…a book about his bike trips will surely write – I believe it…I greet…


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