The expressions on the faces of men who sit on the sides of roads.

The distinct difference between Southern Maine wind and Northern Sahara breeze.

The strange tension of being surrounded by people with vastly different histories.

The sudden sadness at the idea of returning home.

The incredible longing to flee back to the safety and security of the Known.

The exotic smells of unknown spices in an unfamiliar market.

The all-encompassing fear at the sudden realization that you are lost, truly lost, in a foreign country.

The dawning certainty that things are somehow exactly the same and completely different everywhere in the world.

But mostly, I find myself constantly returning to reflecting on my own limits. I don’t really mean limits in terms of my capabilities, but more like finding the furthest edges of myself – the greatest possible difference from the center of me to the outermost ethereal borders. The “I” that I identify with right now seems to be of a totally different quality than the “I” that I was in the desert. Who was I in Tunisia? Who was I in conversations with souq merchants in labyrinthine medinas of ancient cities? Who was I in conversations with Saied or Mohammed? Certainly not the Same person who now sits in front of a computer screen typing furiously into a blog, checking my email, downloading applications for my phone, and talking to truck drivers on the CB. But, of course, I am these people. Somehow there are multiple levels, forms, and incarnations of I rattling around in this head. And somehow they are all struggling for some sort of cohesion.

And I suppose it is about limits after all . I like to imagine myself the intrepid explorer who remains unafraid in the face of the unknown. I have a new understanding of how small and weak I am when removed from my comfortable surroundings and dropped into the turbulence of a culture I barely understand. This realization has been humbling and empowering in many ways. I (by which, of course, I mean “we”) survived and that is a testament to unbelievable willpower and strength of mind. But with this survival came an undeniable sense that the world actually is larger than me. For a devout solipsist, that is something unimaginably huge to grapple with.

Strangely, I also have a new sense of Chrisbarr the American. This is something I’ve never had and never expected to have. I won’t say anything silly like “I’m proud to be an American” because I find that as meaningful as saying I’m proud to be 5’10″.  But I understand that I AM an American, and that actually means something to me now. I’ve been given a glimpse into another culture, another world entirely, and it’s shifted my perspective enough that I feel as though I can more fully appreciate my own culture. I never expected that or would have even attempted to achieve such a perspective, but I’ve got it. I’m pretty thankful for the opportunity I’ve had to expand my view of the world, no matter how slightly.

I guess that’s all for disjointed thoughts today. More later, I suppose. Still struggling with Picasa and Flickr to try to upload the rest of the photos. Should be fully uploaded by tomorrow afternoon sometime.

~