this is the scene that greeted me upon my return home. this is placed right above the fireplace. i felt like i had already died.

it's only missing an urn.

today my lovely brother came home from working at the bank for a bite to eat. before he arrived, we talked on the phone and decided that we should eat mcdonalds. yes, we decided we should eat mcdonalds.

i haven't eaten mcdonalds in the last, count them, four years. since i've been back, i've eaten the most unhealthy things one can imagine. i've eaten cheese steaks, pizza on a number of occasions, fried mozzarella, jalapeno poppers, salad with too much dressing and now mcdonalds.

he came in and put the food down on the counter. he doesn't ever eat mcdonalds either and we stood there in his pressed shirt and tie and we both giggled like little boys again. there was one giant bag and two giant plastic cups of sugar water infused with gas. we were in america.

we opened the food. i was the hesitant recipient of one big mac and a large fry which was only partially filled. the big mac was the furthest thing from what food really is. i ate the whole big mac, a couple of the fries which were tasteless and only a bit of the sugar water infused with gas. the rest were sent to the landfill gods of new jersey.

we sat downstairs and began to feel the effects of our meal immediately. i started to breath oddly and my brother commented that it felt like his heart was fighting to survive.

i may not eat mcdonalds again for another four years.


my glorious lunch.

wal-mart.

i almost passed out walking through the aisles. there was so much junk i'll never want to buy. there were so many people sitting in the mcdonalds i stopped to stare.

it was like walking through a market in vietnam in the sense that there is just so much that one could purchase. one of the most striking differences, in my view, was that there were so few people selling. that makes for cheaper goods, but it also allows for a few rich people to pad their wallets.

i'm used to a place where hundreds of people have small stands making a living, altering what they sell to suit the needs of those who buy. i'm not used to a handful of people milling through aisles selling things that are not theirs.

every day i am shocked at how polite everyone is here. people walk around and say 'please' 'thank you' and anything else to lighten the mood and make us all feel special.

in a way, it all feels quite fake. the words are not used sincerely. people walk around and repeat the mantra that was beat into their heads as children.

i walk into a taco bell and ask for a taco and say thank you at least three or four times. i drive through a toll booth and say thanks to the man that is taking my change. why am i so polite with him? is he not just doing his job? am i thanking him for not stealing my money? for taking my money? for sitting in a small booth all day breathing in the exhaust of cars? why on earth would i be thanking him?

last night some people went to a performance at a gorgeous wood church. we sat and waited for the show to began and i had to stand up a couple of times to let the lady beside me pass through. i would always say, 'i'm sorry', or, 'excuse me' and didn't once mean it. the night digressed to the point where the man in front of me referred to a stranger as 'ma'am'. ridiculous. ma'am?

people are simply too polite. if i can walk into a 7-eleven and have the 300 pound man with a tattoo saying 'bumble nick' on his forearm to say thanks to me, i know i'm not in the right place.

i finally ran this morning.

there is space here and it scares me. the space is everywhere, anywhere you go, and it smothers you. there is too much space, too many places to stand and move. there are no people. i don't know where everyone went but there just isn't anyone around. this country is like a ghost town.

the beach was empty. well, there were a few people milling about and a few teenagers who were responsible to make sure no one drowned. i ran down the boardwalk into the wind.

running is not possible in vietnam. in the mornings, at about four thirty, many people go out to the main lake and go walking or do tai chi. i've only been out to the lake a couple of times in the morning and every time it is a huge crowd of people ambling around the small circle. the crowd is comforting, but you can't run.

i ran for the first time in a long time. my legs were stiff but i quickly found my old form. i ran into the wind as the ocean, to my right, beat the sand on the shore. i ran and the wind pushed my hair up and to the left. i ran and sweat poured down my face and i shivered.

i reached the end of the boardwalk and turned around. i paused for a moment and took in a couple sitting on a bench looking at the sea. they sat there at peace as my heart raced.

i ran home and my fatigue blocked out any thoughts of space and crowds. i was alone in my head as my body busied itself. i was alone and it didn't matter where i was.

too much space too few people no one staring.