Browsing ktravula – a travelogue! blog archives for August, 2010.

Summer Ends

The warm evenings and rainy evenings haven’t really changed the face of the season. It’s summer still, in the last days of its rampage. Fall, at least the semester by that name, begins on Monday, and every part of the campus is experiencing warm bubbles of its coming.

Reham’s here, and Chris, and Mafoya, and Abdiel, and Tola, and Clarissa, and pretty much everyone else: the usual suspects, the deer and the geese. There are also some new faces: the new Arabic teacher, the new Yoruba teacher, and a generally new campus experience with its coming excitement.

This should be good.

Chicago-St.Louis

O’Hare International Airport looked ordinary. All that concerned me was that I was able to use the internet though I had to pay for it. A few hours later, on the megabus from downtown to St.Louis, I was able to continue, just before I dosed off and found myself back in St. Louis early in the morning. Even that city hasn’t changed, and it welcomed me with the warm breeze of the morning.

I definitely have changed, even if I say so myself. I carry some baggage of stress from all my “summer” travels, but it feels good to be finally “home” in one piece. Thank you for all the “congratulatory” messages. I appreciate them :). Now, time to get back to work.

Random Travel Photos

Hovering all around Europe for the last twenty-four hours, I’ve finally made a complete stop at a familiar place. This time it’s looking a lot more like a place I’ve been away from for a long while. There is some lethargy, no doubt, perhaps conditioned by stress, or by fatigue of flying in the aisle seat for that length of time, or the thought of my luggage in the hand of a random stranger.

Well, here I am now, no longer such a stranger. What does the city hold for the poor traveler?

New Review

“I feel it’s best to look at this story critically from two angles. The first is the merits of the writing, which should of course remain paramount. In this, Tubosun does very well. He captures the dry absurdity of a potentially terrible situation, and the ending is remarkable in its pathos. I believed both the matter-of-fact and slightly sympathetic tone of the nurse, and I believed the narrator’s feelings when he hoped he did not have the illness, but suspected that, because of his life and where he lived, he might. Tubosun alternates between writing with very plain, ordinary language, such as when a conversation occurs, and larger, quite grand sentences which seek to encompass the tumultuous shifts of emotions experienced by the narrator. He is adept at both, and perhaps most importantly, knows when to use which. When the narrator talks to the nurse, the writing becomes short and sharp because the narrator himself is tense with anticipation, he must be calm, because if he is not – collapse. When he retreats within himself, his conscious is allowed to expand, and so, too, does the writing, Tubosun’s sentences uncoiling like languorous snakes willing to take their time to reach their destination.”

Culled from Damian Kelleher’s review of my story in African Roar. Read the rest here.

Moving

There’s probably not much to do while siting at another departure lounge but to stare at carts, artworks, and chat up strangers willing to engage in such little trivialities. Who knows, one may discover Coldplay, or Gogo Dolls. Or get another chance at reflection about how the past few hours, weeks, and even months, went. There might be a little satisfaction. Who knows, there might even be regrets. Maybe there would just be an overriding surrender to the forces at work behind such not so random occurrences.

In any case, one might also look forward to new adventures, mostly to be obtained with new eyes, and a new background of experiences. Let the day break.