Ok, so it has been about one and a half years since I wrote in this blog. It just sat up there in cyber space, still in existence, waiting for some attention. Wanting to be something worthwhile for me to spend my time on. Hoping to not be another abandoned project.
Well, I have been busy- soul crushingly busy- where your mind is always too tired to wrap around anything significant for an extended period of time. What did I do with my spare time? Play Final Fantasy. Watch Downton Abbey, Game of Thrones, and Sherlock. Stare at the wall. Wait for the days to pass. Aside from a personal journal that reads more like a laundry list of activities, I haven’t had the desire or energy to write anything about anything.
But that time has ended. Things have happened. Tables have turned- I won Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. I’m actually going to get to do everything that I want- fuse a military career with academia and spend the rest of my career in the ivory tower. My other half and pack of puppies should be joining me in the same household at some point this year- something we have been wanting now for three years. There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Now, my biggest decision is trying to figure out whether to accept my admission into George Washington or American for my History MA- do I keep with the Middle East, Arabic, and Egypt and stay in my swim lane, or do I branch out into something totally different? But enough about all this. What I really wanted to write about was Bora Bora:
I am writing at the Bora Bora airport, where you can sit on the dock or lay at the beach as you wait for your flight. There is no parking lot here because the only way to get here from the main island is via boat. When you arrive, the hotels pick you up in their personal boats, put lays around your neck, and drive you to your lodging in utter paradise. I’ve never seen so many shades of blue in the ocean- but this is of course what everyone knows about Bora Bora- it is as dope as it gets really.
On to more interesting topics- like what exactly is the relationship between French Polynesia and France? I mean, it is literally on the other side of the world but still listed under some interesting title that translates as “overseas collective.” They have their own currency, own flag, and apparently representation in French parliament. So is this another country or is this France? Ah, delicious colonialism. And, of utmost importance, does this count as another country on the travel log? After my 6 days here, the issue still seems as ambiguous as it was when I arrived.
During your time in Bora Bora (ours was predominantly spent at the Sofitel private island) you are immersed in pure beauty and luxury- which meant that after 24 hours I was itching to discover what lay beyond the walls of the resorts. It was as expected- the developing world smell of burning trash and poverty hits you as soon as you exit the oasis. It isn’t terrible by any means, but there is a stark disparity between the lives of the locals and the resorts in which they work- then you notice the lack of diversity amongst the hotel guests- who is it in the world that predominantly has the ability to vacation to Bora Bora? Obviously, right? Moving on- stray dogs and chickens are scattered alongside the one main road and houses that line it. The dogs seem content and friendly enough. We wonder amongst ourselves if every person born in Bora Bora ultimately goes into the tourism industry. How many people have never left the island? What kind of education do the kids get here? Is this entire place actually immoral when it comes to pure economic disparity? There is nothing new about these questions- I have asked some form of them countless times in countless locations. I wonder if I will ever come to my own satisfactory answer about it all. But I know, underneath the layers of all the conflicted emotions, that there is something fundamentally wrong.
All this being said, it does not mean that people seem unhappy or angry. Actually, I am not sure I was there long enough to determine anything about what they are or how they feel. Humans are complicated. People wave to eachother as their boats cross in the lagoon. The hotel boat captain swerves the boat so that the local kids can play in its wake on their canoe. Everyone laughs and seems moderately content with the world. I mean, this isn’t Cairo where you have thousands of people who literally live in graveyards. The seasons never change. Every day in Bora Bora is much like the last- to the ire of the foreign hotel employees who sound like they regard their time working in Bora Bora as a sort of deployment. Unless you are engaged in some sort of water sport very little recreational activities are available. As far as we could judge from our ventures “out into town,” a lot of sitting around seems to be the thing.
So, yes I went jet skiing, snorkeling in amazing coral, diving, read a couple books, ate delicious French and island cuisine, and spent time at the spa. My tan is excellent and I feel far more relaxed than I have in some time. The vacation was nothing short of astounding and lived up to every expectation that we had for it- but that doesn’t mean I still don’t wander about with my usual ambivalence. That’s just me. :)
Well, I have been busy- soul crushingly busy- where your mind is always too tired to wrap around anything significant for an extended period of time. What did I do with my spare time? Play Final Fantasy. Watch Downton Abbey, Game of Thrones, and Sherlock. Stare at the wall. Wait for the days to pass. Aside from a personal journal that reads more like a laundry list of activities, I haven’t had the desire or energy to write anything about anything.
But that time has ended. Things have happened. Tables have turned- I won Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. I’m actually going to get to do everything that I want- fuse a military career with academia and spend the rest of my career in the ivory tower. My other half and pack of puppies should be joining me in the same household at some point this year- something we have been wanting now for three years. There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Now, my biggest decision is trying to figure out whether to accept my admission into George Washington or American for my History MA- do I keep with the Middle East, Arabic, and Egypt and stay in my swim lane, or do I branch out into something totally different? But enough about all this. What I really wanted to write about was Bora Bora:
I am writing at the Bora Bora airport, where you can sit on the dock or lay at the beach as you wait for your flight. There is no parking lot here because the only way to get here from the main island is via boat. When you arrive, the hotels pick you up in their personal boats, put lays around your neck, and drive you to your lodging in utter paradise. I’ve never seen so many shades of blue in the ocean- but this is of course what everyone knows about Bora Bora- it is as dope as it gets really.
On to more interesting topics- like what exactly is the relationship between French Polynesia and France? I mean, it is literally on the other side of the world but still listed under some interesting title that translates as “overseas collective.” They have their own currency, own flag, and apparently representation in French parliament. So is this another country or is this France? Ah, delicious colonialism. And, of utmost importance, does this count as another country on the travel log? After my 6 days here, the issue still seems as ambiguous as it was when I arrived.
During your time in Bora Bora (ours was predominantly spent at the Sofitel private island) you are immersed in pure beauty and luxury- which meant that after 24 hours I was itching to discover what lay beyond the walls of the resorts. It was as expected- the developing world smell of burning trash and poverty hits you as soon as you exit the oasis. It isn’t terrible by any means, but there is a stark disparity between the lives of the locals and the resorts in which they work- then you notice the lack of diversity amongst the hotel guests- who is it in the world that predominantly has the ability to vacation to Bora Bora? Obviously, right? Moving on- stray dogs and chickens are scattered alongside the one main road and houses that line it. The dogs seem content and friendly enough. We wonder amongst ourselves if every person born in Bora Bora ultimately goes into the tourism industry. How many people have never left the island? What kind of education do the kids get here? Is this entire place actually immoral when it comes to pure economic disparity? There is nothing new about these questions- I have asked some form of them countless times in countless locations. I wonder if I will ever come to my own satisfactory answer about it all. But I know, underneath the layers of all the conflicted emotions, that there is something fundamentally wrong.
All this being said, it does not mean that people seem unhappy or angry. Actually, I am not sure I was there long enough to determine anything about what they are or how they feel. Humans are complicated. People wave to eachother as their boats cross in the lagoon. The hotel boat captain swerves the boat so that the local kids can play in its wake on their canoe. Everyone laughs and seems moderately content with the world. I mean, this isn’t Cairo where you have thousands of people who literally live in graveyards. The seasons never change. Every day in Bora Bora is much like the last- to the ire of the foreign hotel employees who sound like they regard their time working in Bora Bora as a sort of deployment. Unless you are engaged in some sort of water sport very little recreational activities are available. As far as we could judge from our ventures “out into town,” a lot of sitting around seems to be the thing.
So, yes I went jet skiing, snorkeling in amazing coral, diving, read a couple books, ate delicious French and island cuisine, and spent time at the spa. My tan is excellent and I feel far more relaxed than I have in some time. The vacation was nothing short of astounding and lived up to every expectation that we had for it- but that doesn’t mean I still don’t wander about with my usual ambivalence. That’s just me. :)
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