It's good to be home?

(Written May 19, 2009)

I'm writing this from my cottage in Muskoka where I've been spending the Victoria Day weekend with my family and grandparents. I've only been home about four days now but it feels like longer because of how busy I've been. Everyone seems quite happy to have me back, and it's been really nice to see all the people I've spent the last year missing while I've been away. That being said, it certainly hasn't all been rosy for me on the inside.

My first thoughts upon touching down after the ludicrously long plane ride were "Whoa, okay, I take it back, I'm not ready to go home. Stop the ride and let me off." I was struck by how little green there was to be seen.

I returned home to find that an apple orchard near my house where I remember picking apples as a child was last year razed to build a massive Wal Mart. This happened in conjunction with the destruction of a fairly large tract of farmland surrounding the orchard which has been "developed" into a shopping area to support a new housing development. Hooray for "progress". I've seen a number of friends that I really have been genuinely missing and it was kind of nice to find that being away for a year hasn't changed our interactions much. It was kind of like slipping on an old familiar glove, it still fit, it was still comfy. For the most part. Living in Thailand (far away from Bangkok) I'd grown unacustomed to the intense brand of capitalism practised by the North American 18-25 youth demographic. It certainly doesn't help that I live in one of the more affluent neighborhoods in the country (I read this, I'm not just being pompous here). Sitting and listening to conversations about the merits of iPhones versus Blackberries, or the mention of relegating one's Blackberry to "Secondary Phone" status to justify the purchase of an iPhone kind of caught me off guard. I don't have a phone at the moment. In Thailand, I had the cheapest phone money could buy, a very popular though thoroughly outdated type made popular by it's affordability.

Right, I've just erased a whole bunch of writing because I realized I was turning this post into a rant against capitalism and North American society in general, which isn't my intention. I just want to get my thoughts down.

I had an argument while doing the dishes about how Wal Mart was selling scooters now for under a thousand dollars.
I said "I'd question how they were able to get their prices so low"
"Well they were probably made in China or somewhere like that." Was the response
"That's one of the many huge problems I have with Wal Mart as a corporation because by setting their prices so low and undercutting all of the competition, they force manufactures hoping to secure one of Wal Mart's huge lucrative contracts to cut their production costs which often takes the form of long hours and or lower wages for workers and inattention to safety standards. This in turn forces competing store chains to lower THEIR prices to compete, turning the whole thing into a positive feedback loop where the consumer "wins" by seeing lower prices but those whose hands actually make the goods get stomped on harder and harder." (I have to admit I wasn't nearly this eloquent at the time, but I made the points. I really hate the way anger can render one inarticulate)

To which I was told
"Isn't that the way capitalism works? The lowest price gets the contract. If the workers really don't like it then they should go do something else"
"Like what?"
"There's always something else."

It was the first time in a very long time I was speechless with rage. I finished the dishes and left the house. I'm unashamed to say I cried that night, in the forest by myself. It was all too much. This is the life I've been missing all this time? This is the glove that used to fit? This was me? It sometimes feels like no matter how hard I push to break the cycle, or how hard I try to break out of the mold, I'll always be part of the the "machine", part of the problem I'm trying to solve, perpetuating this global imbalance. Nothing feels worse than realizing you're part of the problem you're so bothered by. It was a critically low point for me.

I felt a lot better afterward. Nothing had been solved, I still have my complex, but nobody can argue against the merits of a good hard cry on occasion. After a while I came back inside and I showed my family pictures about my trip. As I going through them I could tell I wasn't making my time there seem very interesting. It was great, what more can I say? I didn't care.

I am going to Michigan next week, a trip I'd planned to make shortly after my return. I'm ashamed to say I'm somewhat happy to be getting away for awhile even though it is so soon after I've returned. I think I've had about enough of "my life" as I can handle and could use the vacation. This has been far more intense than I thought it would be. None of this really happened when I went to Thailand, I'm supposed to be Mr. Untouchable, culture shock aint got nothin' on me. Right? Wrong.