I am drinking over-priced Indian red wine from the mini-bar with left-over room service on the couch. I’ve slept about 14 of the last 24 hours, I eat all my meals at various 5 star hotels around town, and Lost in Translation is on TV.
I always thought the movie was funny and oddly like a travel documentary, but it is even more surreal when I am here in the Far East, watching it from a hotel room not much unlike the one they stay in. Its like seeing my life and wondering how I have not caved under the irreality of it all.
Joseph Conrad is one of my favorite authors. His self-proclaimed task in life was “By the power of the written word, before all, to make you SEE.”
That isn’t my task in life, but I understand it and want for it as well. I have said before “Science will put an astronaut on the moon, but only a book can send a janitor.” I think there is some magic to writing, because, when done well, it can make you feel something that perhaps your own life will never afford.
If you asked me what one simple thing could help us make the world a better place, I would reply, “Read a book.” In our lives of increasing specialization, we don’t know how to help each other, because we don’t understand each other. A book, written well, can help us see….it can move us to India.
Sadly, I don’t think I can write that well….or at least I don’t have the time to devote to it. People at the office ask me about India, people at home want to know too……what the hell is going on over there?? What are you doing? What’s it like?
I was out at a goodbye dinner the other night with all the other Americans. We were at one of the nicest restaurants in Delhi, passing the normal Indian amount of death, disease, and deformity in the taxi on the way.
We all took millions of pictures and commented on what a surreal experience this is….and someone said, “Yeah, its like Real World Delhi….all we lack are the confessionals where we all talk about how much we secretly hate each other. If only our company knew how much of our per diem is spent on alcohol and 5 star dining.” And it is so true.
This whole thing is like one long soap opera disconnect from real life. Except in my case…where I’ve done it so often that it actually IS my life.
So Lost in Translation is actually an immensely sad movie. I feel like both Bill Murray and Scarlett Johanson…both like a lost young traveler and a beaten old man.
Hmm….so as I live out my own version of the Real World India bouncing from one 5 star hotel to the next, I am reminded of Conrad, of poverty, of our inability to understand each other, and of my own shortcomings. I am thinking of you.
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Man… aesthetic distance can even remove yourself from your own words. Great post. I’m having a good time here. I’m slowly realizing that it’s life after all. It’s not much different here, it’s just richer. I’m more aware of existence than usual. It’s an odd experience. I’m glad you helped me get here.