A short post here. Inasmuch as I want to focus this journal on the impending trip to Kibombomene, it is still my journal and I cannot possibly write right now without mentioning my hometown. I am from Goderich. Perhaps you've heard of it.
I get lost when I walk in my hometown at night; much of it I cannot recognize. Other parts are more like a dream, where I can identify everything but something is off-colour. I used to do historical architectural walking tours in this town, and many of my way-points are gone.
The relevance to the Kibo project is that I had hoped to rally support for the cause (moral or otherwise) from folks locally in the coming weeks, but all of the local efforts will now necessarily be put into disaster relief. This is as it should be, and I'm not complaining. Friends of mine lost their houses; some lost their businesses. Many people are out of work, their work having been utterly destroyed. To have my ideas fade to the background in advance of my departure is such a small thing to have lost.
Now I am trying to do what I can, as we all are, and the rallying has been terrific. So many of my Goderich friends live elsewhere now and wish they were back, but there is really nothing to be done at this point. Electrical wires and busted gas mains are everywhere, and many of the old buildings could be on the verge of collapse.
All of it makes me feel like this is a strange time to be leaving Goderich. We will not be rebuilt by the time I go; we may never be fully rebuilt. I have not changed my plans, and I am not questioning them. But I thought that it was important for the sake of posterity to note that though I go across the world unattached to commitments that require me as an individual, I am not coming without a strong sense of original place. My hometown, of which I have always been so proud, is forever changed.
Note my last entry ("When?") on impermanence and my mistrust of plans. One more reason why I believe as I do, and I'd really challenge anyone to defy me.
Forgive me if this is not the most eloquent entry — like everyone in this town, I am in shock and very tired.
I get lost when I walk in my hometown at night; much of it I cannot recognize. Other parts are more like a dream, where I can identify everything but something is off-colour. I used to do historical architectural walking tours in this town, and many of my way-points are gone.
The relevance to the Kibo project is that I had hoped to rally support for the cause (moral or otherwise) from folks locally in the coming weeks, but all of the local efforts will now necessarily be put into disaster relief. This is as it should be, and I'm not complaining. Friends of mine lost their houses; some lost their businesses. Many people are out of work, their work having been utterly destroyed. To have my ideas fade to the background in advance of my departure is such a small thing to have lost.
Now I am trying to do what I can, as we all are, and the rallying has been terrific. So many of my Goderich friends live elsewhere now and wish they were back, but there is really nothing to be done at this point. Electrical wires and busted gas mains are everywhere, and many of the old buildings could be on the verge of collapse.
All of it makes me feel like this is a strange time to be leaving Goderich. We will not be rebuilt by the time I go; we may never be fully rebuilt. I have not changed my plans, and I am not questioning them. But I thought that it was important for the sake of posterity to note that though I go across the world unattached to commitments that require me as an individual, I am not coming without a strong sense of original place. My hometown, of which I have always been so proud, is forever changed.
Note my last entry ("When?") on impermanence and my mistrust of plans. One more reason why I believe as I do, and I'd really challenge anyone to defy me.
Forgive me if this is not the most eloquent entry — like everyone in this town, I am in shock and very tired.
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