my Four Passing Sights (shout-outs to the four people I met today)

After I had checked out of the Chrysalis Inn today, I heaved myself through the rain into town and spent some time in the Bellingham Public Library trying to figure out how best to order the rest of my day.

I needed to make some phone calls, but I always feel weird standing in the street and gabbling into a cell phone, so I lumbered into downtown and paused before the vitrine of a very nice-looking Viet-Thai resto with the rather Konglishy name "House of Orient"*

This is where I met Isabel, the woman who served me my food. Isabel is obviously a people person; very relaxed, she joked about the stylized Sterno pot that accompanied my chicken satay appetizer, claiming it gave the dish a "Temple of Doom" look. I had a good laugh. (I hope your boss doesn't read this and take it the wrong way, Isabel!)

As she brought over my main course, which was ginormous but surprisingly cheap, we got to talking about my project (me, me, me-- yeah, it's me all the time), and Isabel told about her boyfriend's spiritual evolution: he's a Catholic, but he underwent something of a reorientation after spending time in Tibet (I don't think Isabel said it was a conversion, per se, but her guy really took to Vajrayana metaphysics, especially as relates to karma).

We also talked about the missionary impulse in religion. Isabel's take, if I remember correctly, is that religions are fine as long as they're not imposing their belief structures on others. I mentioned that this was a sticky issue because that impulse is pervasive in many religious traditions (people sometimes forget that Buddhism is one of the world's three major missionary religions [see Charles B. Jones's The View From Mars Hill for more on this], though its notion of mission differs profoundly from what we often see in Christianity and Islam). Isabel agreed that many adherents proselytize not so much out of arrogance as because they feel they have to share a boon with others, or to try to save them from damnation.

Isabel spent time in Spain and "learned a lot of Spanish" while there. She's itching to finish her studies and pursue some of her personal goals. I wish her well. As Koreans often say: study hard! May you find happiness in your pursuits.

You might think that Isabel spent all her time conversing and none of it actually waitressing, but you'd be wrong: she flew all around the room with grace and poise, keeping the patrons happy with her social skills. What information I received from her arrived in focused sound bites.

Because I watched my brother David do his time as a server at the fast-paced California Pizza Kitchen, I appreciate how hard such work is. I'm far too lazy, introverted, and impatient to be competent in such a capacity; I'd likely throttle the first customer who gave me any lip. I respect those folks in the food business who do their jobs well. It takes patience, grace, and amazing reserves of energy.

The second person I met this evening was a young, 20-something bearded guy on a bike. As he tooled along past me on the opposite side of the street, he saw my backpack and called out over his shoulder:

"Dude! That-- is-- HEAVY!"

"About sixty pounds!" I shouted across the street.

"I've been there, bro!" he shouted back. "God bless!"

We didn't stop to talk, so unlike what happened in the encounter with Isabel, I wasn't able to give this guy my blog's URL and ask him to Spread The Word (do you like my AA Milne-style capitalization? it makes words and concepts Look Very Important, but in a silly way).

The third person I met was a dignified gent with a close-shaved gray beard; his name was Wolf (short for Wolfgang). "You look like you're going on a long pilgrimage," Wolf said as he and his very fluffy dog approached me. I told Wolf about my project; he told me about some of his own travel projects (like many people I've met in this area, he's an avid sailor), and he mentioned one very happy fact: he's getting married this July!

Wolf's an interesting religious mix: he self-identifies as both Christian and shaman! I asked what kind of shamanism he was into (the only shamanism with which I have even a passing familiarity is the Korean variety), and he responded that it was an integrated shamanism (only in America, right?) that combined several shamanistic strands.

Maybe it's the glow imparted by Wolf's upcoming marriage, but he strikes me as a very happy man. Something about the cut of his beard and the look in his eye reminded me strongly of Robert Buswell, the ex-monk (Korean Seon/Zen tradition) who teaches at UCLA, and who also radiates a cheerful bonhomie.

Great meeting you, Wolf! Sorry if I made your dog nervous, but as we all know, dogs can smell both Terminators and evil people, so your pet was only reacting to the danger he sensed in me.

Finally, hats off to the very nice lady at the Exxon station, who helped me out by calling ahead to ask whether the Shamrock Motel had any available rooms. She didn't have to do that for me, but she went the extra mile.

In an earlier post, I remarked that the citizens of Bellingham were less forthcoming with greetings and smiles than the good folks I had met in Blaine. I spoke too soon, I think, and I apologize. I've been fortunate to have met good people every day, no matter where I've been.

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*Most of you know that "Orient" has become a politically incorrect term, ja? You no longer say, "He's Oriental"; instead, you must say, "He's East Asian," or "She's South Asian," or "They're Southeast Asian," etc. The reason for this change has to do with a recognition of the Eurocentrism of the term. "Orient" means "east" (and "Occident" means "west"); a "disoriented" person is literally someone who can't find east. But Asia is "east" in relation to what? Why, to Europe, of course! Hence the accusation of Eurocentrism and the supposed need to correct this dreadful act of oppression through language.

[NB: I wonder why this issue might be of concern to North Americans, from whose perspective Asia lies to the west. Who are the real Westerners, eh? EH??]

Personally, I find the whole thing silly. Easterners themselves use a Chinese expression (pronounced "dohng-bahng" in Korean) that means "eastern" in reference to their own food and culture. If Easterners can tolerate the awful Eurocentrism of the term, why should Westerners be losing any sleep over it?

Political correctness-- whose ultimate goal is a utopia in which no one will have cause to feel offended by anything-- is often little more than paternalistic arrogance. As the parrot in Tom Robbins's Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates says: "People of zee wurl, RELAX!"

Having said all that, I admit I've bowed to the pressure and no longer say "Oriental."


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