A New Adveeentuuuure Chaaaarliiiieee!

Ow, my brain. I had gotten so used to sitting on a chair with a computer and internet for most of my days, with potable water, a fridge full of food two steps away, two closet-fulls of clothes and all the other comforts of the Western world. This new profound pattern shift has been beyond overwhelming for my poor little psyche that was so ingrained in its comforts. I don’t regret anything. Not even the breakdowns and feeling utterly overwhelmed and useless. I feel alive again.

The departure is the worst. And this one dragged on and on, due to a bunch of preparations and couple of days in transit.

Home, Montreal - 01.18.12 1200 hours

Running on a couple of hours of sleep. I can't think. I am alive. This is madness. Enjoy the disparateness :) See you in my rebirth, dear world. Quote: My friend has this theory that everyone is at their best when they travel. - Anna

Fast forward a few hours.

 

Airport. Check-in. Goodbyes. Board. I had a centre seat but all the 4 seats in the middle section were empty so I could stretch out on them :D Soon enough I started a conversation with the passenger in the seat across the aisle. Turns out he was Indian so we had a few good chats about different things, although he was transferring to Istanbul where he was going for work. Oh well, would have been nice to have someone accompany me into Delhi. (Actually, the flight into Delhi and the first few hours here were some of the worst, psychologically, and some familiar company was the only thing I really wanted!)

They were showing a lot of Indian films on the way to Zürich, so I watched I am Kalam, which was super cute! Ali (my flight companion) watched One Day, and he warned me it was depressing (yet still I watched it on the flight to Delhi and regretted it :P)

Tried to sleep a bit, not very successful. In Zürich, Ali went for his transfer and I went into town, woo! The guy at immigration was like:

“So, how long will you be in Zürich?”

“Just 6 hours.”

“Oh. Where are you going after?”

“Delhi.”

(Giving a puzzled look) “India? Why would you go there?”

I had come across enough people with that reaction so I was pretty used to it, but it still irritated me somewhat.

Zürich Hauptbanhoff - 01.19.12 0740 hours

So getting there wasn’t as easy for a sleep-deprived mind. After following helpful instructions from couchsurfers for getting to the train. I hopped on the first one there and turns out it was going in the opposite direction from central station. Sigh. Get off. Try again. With all this, I still managed to make it for around 7:40am, while my appointment with Roger and another couchsurfer was at 8:30am. So I went out and walked a bit in the cold drizzly dawn in the old city, taking some photos of the water and buildings before getting cold and turning back.

Soon enough, I met up with Roger and it was so so so incredibly comforting to see a familiar face. It felt like being reunited with family, even though we didn’t hang out all that much in Van. I think just because I was so overwhelmed by this trip, being able to have familiar company was worth more to me than anything. Another couchsurfer, Aanjhan, joined us as well. After I had posted on the Zürich CS forum if anyone wanted to get up that early for a stroll, he answered me because he saw that I was going to India, so we had some interesting conversations as well!

Toilet at Odeon Café

It was certainly chilly in Zürich, but still I was the happiest I had been in a while, even in my baffled sleep-deprived state. Setting foot in Europe again, pretty streets, good company, lots of laughing. After a final photoshoot at the lake, the wind persuaded us to go inside. On Aanjhan’s recommendation, we had a delicious breakfast and shared hilarious travel stories at Odeon café, which has an interesting history. An absolutely delightful morning in the city :)

Sadly it was all over too soon and goodbyes never get easier, but it’s moments that happen quite often during travelling unfortunately.

Zürich Flughafen - 01.19.12 1200 hours

Back at the airport, I started to freak out more seriously, asking myself endlessly: “What the hell am I doing?”. I even almost lost my new netbook, on day one! I had used it in the restroom and forgot it on a shelf in the stall. It had been maybe 5-10 minutes when I realised, and the flight to Delhi was about to start boarding. Thankfully I didn’t realise on the plane! And even more thankfully, it was still there when I went back to check!! I was convinced it would be gone. There was a girl in the stall and when she came out I immediately looked to see if it was there. I exclaimed my relief aloud and she said that she actually didn’t even notice it and that I am incredibly lucky. That I am! :D  

Delhi Airport - 01.20.12 0100 hours

Cold. Humid. Unknown.

The guy at immigration asked me what is Vizag (the city I was headed to that I put down as address on the declaration form). I explained it was a city near Chennai omg lol. He seemed irritated but eventually let me through. Well, at least you can get into India with a one-way ticket, so my whole story was unnecessary, hurray! Pick up bag. So overwhelmed. And um, my plan kind of stopped there. So I walked back and forth, looked for the sleeping areas, or just a secluded area where I could sit. Hah, forget about isolation in Indian cities! It’s a good thing I didn’t go out of the terminal though (again on advice from couchsurfers, though I didn’t know why initially), because you’re not allowed back in. The security guards with rifles won’t let you :) (There is a visitor entry fee for the airport though actually, but the next morning I didn’t see anyone at the counter where they sell the visitor tickets). I didn’t research all these things so this first part was kind of rough and I’m learning the ropes as I’m going!

Tried to connect to internet but failed (I’m thinking since I tried 3 times it may have charged my credit card that many times too without getting my goods, oh well…). I was just getting more and more tired, stressed, overwhelmed, confused, hungry, in pain (the stomach aches due to the pressurized cabin + stress). I decided to check out the Visitor’s lounge (on advice from an internet forum post I found some while back), and it looked so sketchy; people sleeping on the floor, seats everywhere. So I asked the security guard who was guarding the elevator between the arrival hall where I was previously and the lounge to let me go back down. After seeing my flight confirmation, he mumbled something about wrong terminal. Turns out that was crucial information. I went back down, used the toilet and asked about the price of the napping facilities, but they were full! Oh well, back to the lounge I go. 

I really wanted to try to accost someone so I would feel less alone, so I started talking with these guys who were speaking in Spanish. They were from Chile, and going snowboarding in Kashmir! They actually followed what others did in the lounge, just set their stuff on the floor and lied down for a nap. I soon decided to do the same. Hobo-style. It actually made me feel a lot better! I used my sleeping bag as a mattress, my backpack as a pillow, and scarf as a cover (did I mention it was cold in Delhi? Like 5 degrees, it was on the “breaking news”, along with the fog). I think the mix of letting go of perfect solutions with feeling less alone made me feel a ton better. I even fell asleep for some hours…

Delhi Airport - 01.20.12 0800 hours

The following morning, just as they were about to say goodbye, I discovered the Chileans were headed to terminal 1D and my flight was there too, which was in another building! So I tagged along (possibly to their annoyance, heh) because I felt lost and clueless. 

There was a shuttle to take you to the terminal, which was 15 minutes away by car! Wow I had no idea about all this previously, so it was lucky I met them! We were told the shuttle was free if you have a flight ticket, so we got on but they asked for money or a ticket, and the guys paid but I got off. I was definitely lost and confused. Couldn’t go back inside the airport where you had currency exchange booths and functional ATMs, got turned back by security who told me to use the ATM outside which didn’t work. Great. Now what? A taxi driver offered to drive me to an ATM and I can pay there. Yeah right :)

Luckily I bumped into some other guys who also got fooled by the useless ATM so I basically asked “can I tag along until we all find money?” XD But they already had a prepaid bus to their hotel, which was half an hour away, but they said the bus was already paid for and I could definitely join them and use ATMs at the hotel if there’s any. (My flight was in 6 hours, so I had the time if need be for these roundabout solutions.) So they asked their guide, who confirmed ATMs at the hotel, but he had a better solution. He actually took me to the booth where you show your connecting flight confirmation and previous flight ticket (thankfully I kept it!) to get a free ticket for the shuttle. Somehow I completely missed this booth before! I was incredibly grateful to that guide!

Vizag -  01.20.12 0800 hours

So after waiting endlessly at Delhi airport due to flight delays because of the heavy fog, I finally got on the flight to Vizag. I was the only white person on this tiny plane; adventure begins now, woo! :D I slept for most of the flight and my body and mind felt dead. 

Meeting up with Liz was another incredibly absolutely amazing moment. Soooo excited and super happy! The only two white girls hugging it out at the airport, haha! Then I met her friend and the family she was staying with who kindly agreed to host me for a couple of days. The ride to their home was amazing. I was just absorbing all sights and sounds: bicycles, rickshaws, dirt, dogs, cows, pani puri and so many street food carts, small shops, mad driving, endless honks, tropical heat…

When we got to the house, my brain was just pretty much dead by then. But I was still under adrenaline, so I had a nice chat with Liz whom I felt like I had known forever, and it probably didn’t show at all that we had met for the first time this night, haha!! Then off to sleep. Tomorrow we head into town for awesomeness and then attend a party for the grandparents’ 50^th anniversary.

***

I’m probably not going to be able to keep recounting every moment so diligently, hah!  Not only because access to internet will be very very limited, but being mostly alone during this sharp initial shift has made me all that more in need of finding a way to express some of the insane emotions I’ve been spiralling through (seriously, I don’t know how much Attivan I went through XD Despite the lack of sleep, the cortisol was definitely through the roof).

This way for photos... Zürich & Vizag

Nordkapp - The Commercial Edition

After a couple of nights camping on the road, a stop in Alta to see the prehistoric rock art, and being smuggled past a tunnel toll booth by a kind truck driver, we finally reached Nordkapp; the main destination of this trip! (Seriously though, what is up with paying for all the tunnels up there?! Suuuure, it's to build and maintain nicer tunnels and roads.) I remember the sheer excitement as we reached what I thought to be THE Northernmost point of continental Europe, and just around midnight too. It was an exhilarating feeling! I was partially conflicted though, because I felt like a pilgrim finally arriving, only to find crowds upon crowds of travellers of all ages and styles, all piling up at this plastic entity. I suppose I didn't expect Nordkapp to be quite like a theme park. People arrived there from all over the world by boat, bike, foot, car, tour bus...

 

The point on the right, Knivskjellodden, is actually more Northern.

Still, I basked in the accomplishment, and tried to just let go and enjoy being a typical tourist for a bit. Besides, the short panoramic film that was shown at the centre was actually quite amazing.





So around 1:00 am everything shut down and they kicked us out into the biting cold. What to do? Easy. Layer on all the clothing you are travelling with and realise you're still shivering, set up the tent, spend the coldest night of the entire trip, and enjoy every bit of it :)

The Wonder That Is Lofoten

I thought I would let the pixels, your retina, and the visual processing stream do the work alone today, and give Wernicke's area a day off. For the original captions, check out the album.

 

 

 

Midsummer II - Fire, Fame, and...Uzbeks?

The following day, after a brief stroll through Trondheim, we were on our way to Lugnvik - our next host's town, just outside Östersund - for the Swedish installment of Midsummer. Sweden's, like, actually renowned for their celebrations. This is going to be a lot better than Norway's version, no doubt.

We soon found a ride straight to Lugnvik with a lovely woman and her daughter on their way to visit the Swedish side of their family for Midsummer weekend. After a short chat with them, and seeing our eyelids drooping, the mother just puts it out there that it's alright if we want to sleep - she will wake us when we get there. I was incredibly thankful for this because I was pretty knackered from the long haul of the previous day. At some point along this entire Nordic adventure, it became pretty easy to snooze in cars with strangers. I still remember how impossible it was for me initially.

Thanks to her daughter's iPhone, the woman drove us right to our host's place, and after thanking her profusely, we rushed to meet Benny and get started with the Midsummer festivities, woo! Benny was a fun host with a great sense of humour and a couple of guinea pigs. We found out from him that most people didn't really celebrate Midsummer too seriously, or else it was only a family event. But we still decided to go into town with him and another CouchSurfer staying there to see if anything was happening. I was looking forward to do some firepoi spinning too, since it had been so long, and perhaps there would be some money to be made on Midsummer. 

It was around 11pm when we got there, still crepuscular outside, and somewhat drizzly. Östersund was a ghost town. I had no end of François' mocking: "Let's go see Midsummer in Sweden, yeaaaaah!" But hey, if you can't find the party, make your own. Everyone was armed with an SLR as I performed for my limited audience at the city's bus station. Benny even recorded a short clip in which the desolateness is plainly visible.

It would be unfair however to say that there were absolutely no people and no celebrations though. There were a few happily inebriated young fellows passing by, cheering and taking photos. At some point I yelled back at them: "Give me money!". Then they came closer and we took photos together. Thusly went Swedish Midsummer. Fun was had once again.

Upon our return to Benny's place, his brothers had showed up, and as Benny was chatting with them in Swedish and pointing excitingly at the camera and at myself, the brothers suddenly turned towards me and stared disbelievingly. Luckily the social awkwardness was cleared up pretty soon; apparently 'poi' sounds a lot like 'porn' to Swedish ears...

***

A portion of the following day also deserves special mention though. Benny took us to see one of Sweden's largest waterfalls, and we also visited a chocolate factory where copious amounts of free samples were doled out. Then, after stocking up on some crushed reindeer in a tube, we said our goodbyes to Benny and he dropped us near the road we had to take to continue our journey. 

It seemed like the worst location to get a ride, so I set about making crushed reindeer sandwiches when a car stopped, and some bewildered passengers began gesturing to us half hesitantly, half insistingly. I was taken aback at first and was not sure what they were trying to communicate, as we had no common language. I finally managed to gather that they were headed in the same direction as us but only up to a town about half-way from where we had to be (thankfully I had a pretty good memory for some of the names of places in the areas we passed by!).

As we agreed to go with them, the driver, a sixty-something plain-looking man, stepped out of the car to move some items from the crowded back seat into the even more crowded trunk in order to make room for us. His wife, a jovial and plump woman wearing a headscarf, shortly followed suit to make sure he would not crush the cases of eggs. The couple had been in the area to buy some food because it was apparently cheaper. I suddenly had flashbacks of rural Eastern Europe.

We then all squeezed into the tiny space with our large bags and set about awkwardly acquainting ourselves. It turned out they were from Uzbekistan! They spoke Uzbek, Russian, and some Swedish, and the husband could speak a few words of English. The wife generously offered us little croissants and chocolates, along with some tea (she was holding a huge insulated teapot and some cups on her lap, among other things). We were incredibly grateful for their kindness, and I was glad to at least be able to thank her in a language she would understand. She smiled so deeply and nodded every time I said "Spasiba".

The husband tried to make conversation with us, and I kept turning to François to decipher what they were saying. Despite the fact that François' English and Russian are less conversational than mine, he was the one who understood most of it! He had a practised flair for interpreting what people intended to say in foreign languages, whereas I was analytically hanging on to each of the words' literal meaning. I think we were talking about how the summer had been rainy in Scandinavia so far. And we told them where we were from and where we were going. Eventually the guessing and interpreting became somewhat draining for everyone so we just enjoyed the scenery quietly.

As we were munching on the pastries, the husband cranked up the traditional Uzbek music to really set the mood. It was unreal. During that entire ride, I had completely forgotten we were in Sweden.

When we arrived at their hometown, the husband took François aside, looked him in the eye, and told him that he would go out of his way and drive us to our destination if we paid the gas. We declined. He then asked us if we needed a place to spend the night. They gave us their phone number and told us to call them if we needed anything, and that we could stay the night in case we didn't find a ride onwards. This was all translated to me from Uzbek-Swedish-English to French by François, by the way. I was just speechless. After many smiles and waves and "Spasiba", they were on their way and we were on ours. 

We ended up being lucky and getting a ride out of that small town, but I still have the little piece of paper with their phone number in my notebook.

Midsummer I - Vikings & Trolls

This lovely Scandinavian holiday was another of the main reasons for this trip, so I was pretty psyched to spend Norwegian midsummer in Trondheim on June 23rd, followed by a little side-trip to Sweden, where midsummer was celebrated on the 24th. Another of those expectation versus reality stories ensued. To be expected: huge bonfires, drinking, partying, eating fish, dancing 'round maypoles....but here's what actually happened.

The journey to Trondheim was one of the smoothest of the entire trip. It was also tied as one of two longest distances covered in one day of hitchhiking: 538 km (the other being Riga to Białystok - also around 530 km). We left early and the day started off well. After asking which way to the highway, François got offered 100 Norwegian krone by a guy in Oslo, who insisted we take the train. Soon enough, we found a ride with a lovely couple on their way to a funeral in Ålesund (second lift with people headed to or coming from a funeral...). They were incredibly kind and shared their lunch sandwiches with us as we discussed the floods that had recently occurred around Lillehammer. Some of the roads were still blocked and the damage to some properties was very visible. The woman was originally from the Faroe Islands, which was an interesting coincidence because François had gotten into the hilarious habit of asking everyone "Do you know how to get to Faroe Islands?". He had been looking for a way to possibly boat-hitchhike there from Norway, but turned out it was unfeasible. She also highly recommended Lofoten Islands and the southwestern coast of Norway. And after so many votes for Lofoten, it was now materializing as a concrete destination.

In Lillehammer, they dropped us at a gas station while they went to buy some groceries, with the generous agreement that they would drive us a bit further North (until the fork to Ålesund) if we still hadn't found a ride to Trondheim by the time they finished their shopping. However, despite still being quite some way from Trondheim (about 5 hours), it took all of 3 minutes to get a direct ride! While we were waiting around the gas station, a sizable Viking boat caught my eye. That's right. It was sitting on a trailer while the people from the two cars accompanying it were inspecting it, or chilling around. I thought it would be awesome to get a ride with the Viking boat if they were headed towards Trondheim. My hopes weren't too high, but I decided to go ask anyways.

O Viking Vessel! <3

A couple of minutes later we were settled in a mean-looking 4x4 with a view of the Viking boat being pulled by the first car. It turned out the convoy was headed to a BYOB (Bring Your Own Boat) Viking festival in Trondheim. Hurray!

While François and one of the younger boys snoozed for most of the ride, I absorbed Norwegian culture from Kristoffer, the driver. Troll legends, imported Canadian muskox, great trekking locations, music (Edvard Grieg; Bigbang; Electric Woodland)... The scenery became more and more breathtaking and reminded me of Western Canada. We stopped for a rainy lunch break and I took the opportunity to mingle with the local troll.

I also had a second go at attempting to fix my camera, prompted by encouragement from Kris, who was studying mechanical engineering in Trondheim. I gently nudged the mirror and it finally unjammed! Success! My pinky can do the job just as good as 500 krone. Like a boss.

Back on the road and soon arrived at destination. Following the 5-hour trip with Kris, it felt like we had known each other for much longer. I'm always thankful and amazed by how quickly bonds can form when hitchhiking; you seldom feel lonely or among strangers. There's a sort of unique trust and connection that inevitably permeates when you share a significant amount of time in a tiny space on wheels.

Kris promised to drop us off at our host's place once the boat was brought to the festival camp and the rest of the group had set up. The festival was basically a small group of people living out a weekend of Viking reenactment. We got to go in for free and have a quick look around during the preparations.

Real Vikings Recycle

The Festival Camp

We shortly headed off to find our host, Marco, but we only had an address and no idea about directions, and Kris was unfamiliar with the street name. But I happened to be half-consciously looking at the street signs, when one of them caught my attention. After checking in my notebook again, turns out that was indeed Marco's street -- stop the car! Trondheim is Norway's third largest city, so this very lucky coincidence saved us a lot of wandering about! I was however a bit sad to part ways with Kristoffer. The rest of the evening was enjoyed with Marco's company and some warm food - a lovely and quiet way to end a day of such good turnarounds.

 ***

I remember having a conversation with Kris at some point that went something like this:

"So, is this Viking festival part of the Midsummer celebrations then?"

"Midsummer? Hmm...no, not really."

"Oh... Well, is there anything going on in the city for Midsummer?"

"Not sure. I wouldn't count on it..."

So much for Norwegian Midsummer. Oh well, fun was had anyways.

Crushed Dreams

By now you must certainly be dying to know what became of those three beers we lugged around to use as currency for Norwegian goods and services. Well, I can tell you precisely what happened to each of them and why. So let's begin with that.

The first bottle disappeared around the time we headed out of Göteborg, in Southern Sweden, towards Oslo. The going was slow. We were finally dropped in a large shopping mall about a third of the way to Oslo, by a lady and her son coming from a funeral. They thought it would be a good spot (and so did we), but it turns out the mall sucked. We waited at one of the mall exits, then walked to a roundabout in the Oslo direction, but it was too dangerous, so we walked to another roundabout. Then we decided to go towards Uddevalla and try the traffic from that direction. Had a little hammock break.

Still no luck. Eventually, we returned back to the shopping mall and tried there again, but feeling pretty defeated. By that point, we had been in the area for hours, so we decided to have some eats, and...a beer, as recompense for our misfortune. Sigh. Discouragement made me do it. But I thought to myself: "Hey, we have two more that we can still trade for salmon!"

Fast forward some days, to Mosjøen; the "midpoint" of Norway. We had just returned to Norway following a brief detour by Sweden, and I was excited to start seeing fjords and snow-capped mountains. We were dropped at a busy gas station in Mosjøen, at around 5pm, with another gas station right across from it. So there was definitely no scarcity of cars and trucks stopping there. We asked as many people as we could, and the answers were always negative. Hours passed. This seemed like the perfect spot, why could nobody take us further North? We tried along the road too, to get the traffic that wasn't stopping at the gas stations. Still no luck. Eventually, it got late and we realised we would likely have to spend the night there. When we were just about ready to give up, we decided to have another beer. Hey, the going is tough. Might as well make it more pleasant.

 

The following day, it did not get any easier. After a rough night (despite there being no darkness, it was rather freezing in the tent), and some more hours of trying to find a ride, we decide to take the train. So we actually manage to get a ride to the train station! While waiting for the train, we had nothing to lose, so we attempt to get a ride on the road near the station. And this time somebody stops! Hurray! It's been almost 24 hours in this place, and it feels great to get out. We get dropped in Mo i Rana, another difficult spot. One driver even gives me the finger. Then one lady brings us a bit further outside of town, where we end up waiting several hours again. These past couple of days have not been going well, "going"-wise. Waiting in the sun, next to an ice cream advert, discouraged and losing patience, the only logical decision is to drink the last beer, this time quite early during the day. Sigh. I guess we won't get that salmon after all...

***

So, returning to the original timeline, we headed North by the planned route: Copenhagen, Göteborg, Oslo. The going was slow in Southern Sweden (as evidenced by the beer drinking). And by the time we arrived in Oslo (June 20th), it was pretty clear that my dream of making it to Hammerfest (just 'cause it sounded cool) for Midsummer, on the 23rd, was not going to materialise. We wouldn't even be anywhere near the North of Norway. At most, maybe Trondheim.

Even more crushing news: my camera stopped functioning. It was, erm, accidentally dropped. Really. I was disappointed, but not too frustrated by the idea of not taking photos during the trip. I know how trapped I can become in photo-taking mode during travels sometimes, so it was somewhat liberating.

Thus, I took a couple of days to deconstruct and reconstruct. My thoughts, my goals, my emotions, my camera. It was greatly helped by our fantastic host in Oslo. He made me consider stopping by the idyllic Lofoten islands where his family and friends might be able to host us. At first it wasn't really part of the "itinerary", but we eventually ended up there, and did not regret it! Now I could take my time more to see things, and not rush like crazy for a ridiculous time goal.

I was also told by And, whom I met via couchsurfing on this trip, that Hammerfest was not very worth seeing (she made it there way before us, and I was jealous! But then again she was travelling solo and by a different route). So I decided to scratch Hammerfest and aim instead for the new goal: Nordkapp - the Northernmost point of continental Europe. And besides, perhaps Midsummer would be quite fun in Trondheim as well, rather than in a small town in the North... Right?

On Art, Fences, & Death - An Interlude

Caution: Anthropomorphism and cuteness ahead, followed by angst. Read at own risk.

As a few of you may know, the irreplaceable and infinitely adorable Ixie has recently been having some serious health issues, and passed away this week. This personable creature that many have gotten to know and fall in love with had more character than the space she occupied would seem to suggest. (Really, she was just so damn cute, what can I say?!) She's been with me for some of the most meaningful years of my life, and it will be strange not to have her around any longer.

i can haz bathtub? no? i uze drinking bowl! look at mah mowhawk!

Ixie, short for Ixiona, adapted from Ixion, father of the Centaur race in Greek mythology, was a two-and-a-half-year-old budgerigar. When she reached reproductive maturity, she became pretty much a curious, clever, and overly affectionate egg-laying machine. If she was a chicken, we would have been happy to have breakfast every day, but her eggs were rather on the small side.

the hell is this?! *kick* ...ya! football!

A frisky budgie is adorable to witness. Because she was very tame, she craved human companionship, begged for kisses, and wanted to spend all day on your shoulder. But her egg laying started becoming abnormally frequent and I worried for her health. She continued to lay eggs, until it eventually became problematic. She had her first abdominal peritonitis in January of this year, and, following treatment with antibiotics, it seemed to have been resolved. However, this summer, her belly started to bulge again, indicating a more serious problem of egg retention. After countless vet visits, some X-rays showing multiple eggs in her abdomen, more medication, hormone treatment...it just kept growing.

For the past couple of months, we were just faced with difficult decisions. Surgery? Euthanasia? Long-term treatment? The veterinarians (who knew her all too well by then) never explicitly told us what to do either way, probably at least in part for liability reasons, and so the decisions have always rested upon us. Only during the last visit was euthanasia strongly encouraged; the size of her abdomen was beyond any case they've seen before and the chances of the eggs being reabsorbed eventually by the body (as sometimes happens) were rather, well...stupid...for her state.

During this whole ordeal, Ixie had kept most of her vivaciousness and personality, but in the past few days even her enthusiasm was decreasing, which is a sign for most small prey animals that it's probably too late. We put in a homemade nest box for her, but the chances of her eliminating the eggs were very slim. At least she was able to use the box as a hideout for her final days, and have some of the comfort of being at home with familiar sounds and voices.

***

This episode has definitely had me reflecting on a lot of things. The moral, emotional, and financial value of pet ownership, the extent of responsibility, humans' tendency to be allergic to suffering, how to deal with a guilty conscience, experiences of all sorts that I miss or crave and that I can't have (especially the ones that I will never have again)...

The hardest part was being on the fence; not knowing what decisions to take, not knowing how things would turn out. I felt, even though I knew we had done our best for the little chick, that I couldn't choose euthanasia. I don't like seeing suffering, but that is something I feel, and I didn't think it was reasonable to take a decision about a life based on my aversion to suffering. I don't know what Ixie would have wanted (or even if she had any awareness of life and death at all, as a topic for a drawn out philosophical discussion that I hope to avoid here), or what "suffering" pets in general may "want", but I feel that we often think for them in terms of human thoughts, needs, and emotions.

So we chose the path of prolonging our stress, and living in that uncertain middle ground, on the fence, where things can go either way from one day to the next. Not only did her state change constantly, but how we felt changed just as often, and our decision compass was also wildly oscillating. Lots of questions, lots of uncertainty. Maybe I have been thinking too deeply about a little parakeet? But she was incredibly dear to me, and I wanted to feel later that I've made the best decisions, ie. the decisions I would be least likely to regret.

I really dislike these sort of "on the fence" situations. In the past, I haven't been able to stay on the fence for very long before jumping off on one side. The instability of being up there ends up swallowing most of my mental energy and makes me incredibly uneasy. I find that a lot of people have trouble with these situations; the uncertainty of a situation can be far worse than its resolution. Sometimes, even having a bad outcome can at least provide closure and allow one to move on. Hence, one might often arbitrarily choose a direction, just to be done with it, just because the uncertainty of straddling the fence can become too unbearable.

Having quite a few fences to dance on in my life currently, I'm trying to improve my balancing act. I think it is best, in the long-run, to try to find calm even when on the fence, rather than force an outcome. There will always be fence situations; things rarely get resolved from one day to the next. Maybe I can make myself cozy while I'm up there, enjoy the breeze and the view, and forget, for a while, that the stable grounds are actually far below.

 ***

There's just something so quaint about it!

It has been a year of cases fitting in the "bad news brings good news brings..." category. But this and other incidents have brought me considerably closer to living the carpe diem motto, not just as a smart-sounding, stereotyped pat on the shoulder that people throw around, but truly trying to throw myself in it every chance I get. I've been more motivated than I ever have to actually overcome fears, reach for what I want, and stop putting it off (like the hitchhiking trip!). And for this I am thankful.

Although, at the same time, that's all nice and everything, but I'm still feeling like shit right now... As stoic as I may try to be, I do enjoy the occasional stroll through Kübler-Ross, in reverse; after understanding and acceptance, I deal with anger.