surrealism: chapin & the imam

Sometimes I realise just how surreal my life is to myself.

Tonight I was drinking a glass of wine before dinner, listening to Harry Chapin. Chapin reminds me of myself, of my parents, of my home, of Saturday mornings when I was a kid, of warm Sunday afternoons at home with my brother and parents, with sunlight streaming in the living room window and the green backyard. Generally, Chapin is a 'comfort' music for me. Harry brings me back to myself. As a kid the music and words were just familiar, as an adult the lyrics take on a whole different meaning. Perhaps I've grown into it, the way you grow into your cousin's hand-me-down clothes.

The strange thing about Chapin tonight was that while I was listening to 'Taxi', the Imam was blasting the last call to prayer for the day, in his usual rough and ill-sounding voice. I realised the vast difference between the life I once lived and the life I now live. I know this Imam's voice, I hear it 5 times a day, and although I don't know what the words mean (they're Arabic), the words never change. I can't imagine that I will ever find the same kind of comfort in the call to prayer as I do in Chapin, I could be wrong. I have recently found myself humming the tune he 'sings' to myself.

Chapin and the call to prayer are a strange combination. Maybe its just me, but I don't think so. When I realise how different my life is compared to most people I know, I do quite impress myself. I still don't know where I'm headed, but I do know that I am accomplishing the things I've always wanted to accomplish. I always wanted to travel my ass off. And I have. I've always wanted to live in foreign countries and I am.

But patience is a virtue I have to work very hard at, and I want so much more than I have now. Such is my life.