PB #24 Finish Line

After leaving the Solomon Islands in June 2009, I went back to the U.S. to connect with friends and family. I took some photos of the parts of Midwest culture that seem increasingly foreign to me during a roadtrip through Indiana and Michigan. I then made it to both the east and west coasts for fun and frolicking. I got back to Thailand in mid-August and the highlights over the past few months have included an ICTJ staff retreat in Bali followed by a triathlon on the Indonesian island of Lombok, which I finished (barely) with Ginger, despite having been knocked off my bike and laid-out flat by a pick-up truck in a hit-and-run accident a month before the race.

















As usual, Cori welcomed me to Indiana, this time by socializing with her gay posse and helping me flirt with the cute wait-staff. (Some habits don’t go away when I leave Thailand.) The time with Cori also prompted me to provide a long-overdue correction to some lingering assumptions of my straightness.

















I got up to Michigan to see my sister Lauralee and her family. After showing Lindsey around Chiang Mai last year, she returned the favor with some local flavor (and smells): karaoke night at Home Bar. Musically, it was a good night, with an Aretha wannabe giving out her autograph and Lindsey’s friends belting out some Idol-worthy Bonnie Raitt and other sweet tunes. However, the stench radiating from the toilet was almost unbearable. Thankfully, someone brought fragrant balm to rub under our noses to mask the odor.

















Culture shock photo #1: confederate flag on the country road going east from Kalamazoo. Kurt Vonnegut once said that the American South begins at 38th Street in Indianapolis. I think he missed it by a few hundred miles.

















Culture shock photo #2: If you love something, set it free.





















Culture shock photo #3: "MethWatch Community" sign against a cornfield background. I cannot imagine trying to bring up kids in the rural Midwest and I admire my friends who are doing it.

















I also admire my friends raising kids elsewhere. Here’s Kyle, who was happy to see “Patch” and take me around the Folklife Festival upon my arrival in DC with his mom and dad, Andy and Laura, and younger sister, Ella.





















Before getting to DC, I read up on the exhibits at the Smithsonian to see which I would want to visit. Having come out a few weeks earlier to my mom, I thought a visit to the first exhibit about the gay rights movement at the American History Museum would be fitting. The exhibit consists of one small display case, tucked (hidden?) in a back corner, and it drew critical guffaws from passersby. I also guffawed, but more in amazement than criticism: this might be the best magazine cover ever. Caption: "John, Mowing."





















From DC, I went up to New York. Polly performed a welcoming ritual on her couch / pull-out bed. The ritual has the added benefit of removing the gunk from her ear.














My trip was timed so that I could be in Boston for the wedding of Faye and Eric. The entire weekend was fantastic, reuniting with friends was soul-enriching, and the dress (the DRESS!) was gorgeous. The ceremony was written by Faye and Eric themselves. In this photo, it seems like Faye is wondering if it’s the right thing to do.












Seconds later, it seems she has decided that yes, it is.






The dance. They both decided yes.

















After seeing the gay rights movement exhibit tucked away in a corner at the American History Museum, I appreciated the contrast with the New York dinner party I got myself invited to through a friend of Lisa. The host’s loft apartment overlooking the East River included all the trappings you would expect: a yappy dog, a fun guest keeping everyone entertained, a lesbian hitting on the fun girl, and a bookshelf that includes a series on interior designs, Winning with One-Liners, and a Dr. Seuss version of chicken soup for the soul. And you thought that gay wit and style just happen without any effort? Another nature vs. nurture conundrum.

















From the east coast I headed west and enjoyed a night out with the San Francisco crowd. Jeff & Co. rescued me from a nightclub and got me away from a potential stalker who was dazzled by my dance moves. We ended up at Denny’s. Denny’s!

















Back in Chiang Mai, Ginger and I decided we would train for a triathlon scheduled for early November in Lombok, Indonesia. We had 10 weeks, and on the first attempt at riding up Doi Suthep, the mountain that borders Chiang Mai, Ginger couldn’t get a bike helmet before our scheduled start time. So she went with a motorcycle helmet instead and despite being fashion-challenged, we made it up to the city overlook.

















With a month to go, Ginger and I were on a long bike ride, approaching an intersection in Mae Rim, when a pick-up truck turned from the cross-street right into my lane and hit me head on. I flipped over the truck and landed on my back. My head was gashed down to the skull (in this photo, hardly visible anymore after only two weeks) and I couldn’t move my torso. Ginger was a few seconds behind me so didn’t get hit; the truck swerved, she fell on top of me, and the truck took off. An ambulance came and put me on a gurney and they took me in the hospital. I got three stitches (thus the shaved hair) and they put me in the ICU to be sure there was no more serious problem with the head injury.

24 hours later, cleared of any fears of serious damage to my head, I was able to walk out of the hospital. My chest, back, and neck were really sore but they took x-rays and didn’t find anything and said it was just bruises. My head gash healed up quickly, and about a week later I felt good enough to keep training, so I spent the next three weeks swimming, biking, and running ... though at a much reduced intensity from what I had planned. My chest (one rib and my sternum) healed and were not giving me trouble any more. I still had neck and back pain, but nothing severe.

















For work, all our Asia-based staff met in Bali for a staff retreat the week before the triathlon. I was able to keep training while there. Aya led some yoga sessions at the beach after our first day of the retreat.

















Ginger joined me in Bali and then we headed to Lombok, the next island over, with Aya for company and moral support.

















In early November, Ginger and I completed the 1.5 kilometer swim, 40 kilometer bike, and 10 kilometer run in just under five hours. I got a flat tire about 20 minutes into the ride but was able to patch it. At the half-way point of the ride, we were both shaking so much that I did not think we could possibly make it, but eventually we crossed the finish line.

We found out after the race was finished that the other participants – mostly super-fit, regular triathletes – consider Lombok the most difficult triathlon course in Asia. At first, they were impressed that we chose it as our first race (with sub-par bikes, they also pointed out), but then they shifted to pity when we told them we chose it merely for the timing and did not know how hard the course was. The hills were brutal. Most of the 70+ participants had to walk their bikes up at least two or three of the hills.

I visited the doctor when I got back to Chiang Mai because my lower neck was still a bit sore. After another set of x-rays and an MRI, I learned that I had a broken bone in my neck and a herniated disc as well. I had to wear a neck brace for a week, am going to physical therapy for heating pad and ultrasound-heat treatment, and I have reduced my activity level in order to stabilize the area.

I don’t think of myself as a person who pushes through such obstacles so I’m having a bit of an identity crisis. I am not a person who persists. I like to postpone and delay, and I am quick to accept my limitations. The only logical conclusion I can come to after having completed my first triathlon with a broken bone in my neck and a slipped disc, and the course being the most difficult in Asia, is that I can only overcome obstacles if I don’t actually realize they are there.