San Francisco

Last time I was typing away on to this very same blog, it was in Judy’s kitchen in Holland. Now I’m writing it from a kitchen still, however this one is in my new place of residence in San Francisco!

After weeks and weeks of having no success in finding any way to make money in Holland, I realized it was time for me to leave. Then it struck me “Hey, pssssst, Kent…uh…you don’t have any money. How are you going to get back to America?” So I thought long and hard on that simple subject. contemplating everything from stowing away on an oil rig, or any ship I could going westbound across the Atlantic; to stealing a kayak and paddling my way across. I found both to be quite entertaining, however not exactly practical.

That’s when i contacted my father who was kind enough to loan me enough cash to buy a ticket back to the USA! Yes sir, I was homeward bound….well not exactly home, but close enough. Sure I’d never even scene Baltimore on a map before, so what! They told me “Kent, where are you going to stay? You don’t know anybody there!” Ha, I showed them! There is a website, CouchSurfering.com. On it are lots of lovely people with couches you can sleep on all over the world! So I found a place to stay.

This is a picture of me, and a greyhound bus. Going to Virginia, a Baltimore Meth lad had exploded. Cause a 45 minute delay.

Landed, experienced what it is like to live in the most horrendous city in North America for 6 weeks, and then I got the hell out of there. Looking back I’m glad to of had the experience, but I’m even more glad I’m over 3,000 miles away. Not to mention I never have to go back! Hooray! I mean, have you ever even been to that city? Don’t. Just don’t even bother. Sure, they’ve got the national aquarium. And yes, it’s called “Charm City” But don’t let that fool you! Their are charming people all over, and same goes for marine biology. Just look out your window. Maybe you can see both and save yourself the trip to the pit of America, sweet, sweet Baltimore.

More later
Thanks

—Kent

Wrapping Up Europe

It’s 8:05pm here in Utrecht. Sitting in the kitchen typing away, listening to Damien Rice. Judy’s cooking dinner to my right. She’s cutting up a bag full of french beans. We’re talking about “typical Dutch.” She talks about this about this quite a lot. But I still don’t really understand what it is. “We keep it simple!” she says, as if there couldn’t be anything more obvious. “We keep our typical Dutch food simple, we complicate other things; but we keep the food simple, delicious.” I’m taking a second to let that sink in. It’s true.

Many things here seem so, so simple. The food, the laws, the lifestyle. Quite straight forward and simple. Everyone follows life as they should, and it all works out. It’s great. One of the very simple rules that is in place here is that you’re only applicable for a residency/work permit if you are 21 years or older. I found that out 3 weeks ago. So then I looked into other ways of getting legal work. I figured that there must be some way, some loop hole. Maybe a student visa? But then I have to go to school full time, and I can only work 10 hours a week. I’d also have to take on more loans. Maybe a working holiday visa? Those are specifically catered to people between 18-25! Turns out that Holland only offers those to citizens of Canada, New Zealand, and Australia. But legalities shouldn’t stop me from doing what i want! I’m Kent! I’m a chef! I’m a damn good one too!! So I went door to door for 3 weeks. Everyday I went into every food establishment I could. The consensus was there same everywhere I went. Restaurants and bars told me I had a great resume, but they simply wouldn’t pay me in cash.

But I didn’t take stop there! I kept going! I looked into everything I could think of, from working in a greenhouse to nude modeling at art schools! They all told me the same thing as the restaurants. Who knew, if you want to be a nude model in Amsterdam, you have to have a social security number!!!

After a while without any real source of income my bills are starting to pile up. Judy’s been supporting me, but that can only last for so long. After all, she just quit her job. So I went searching for ways to get back to the states. I found the cheapest flights I could, and my journey will take me on a train from Utrecht, to Eindhoven airport. From there I’ll take a plain to Dublin. Then Dublin to Baltimore, Maryland. It was the cheapest place I could fly to in the US.

I had an art teacher from Maryland. His name was Ed, and he is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met; not to mention his art of sense of humor! Aw Ed, how I miss seeing you at school. So I figure his home town must be something awesome! AND it was the cheapest place to fly to! And have I mentioned the culinary scene in this city? I mean, if you ever wanna make me weak at the knees, just say Charleston Restaurant, or Cindy Wolf. I’m going to be applying to her restaurant, and we’ll see what happens.

Oh, and did I mention that I’m going to be couch surfing for the first few weeks of my life in Baltimore? I’m going to be using that website to find places to stay while I get on my feet there. After all, I’m not going to have enough money to get an apartment right away. It’s going to be quite a lot of fun! I can’t wait. And that’s what I’ll be doing as of the 24th of March, 2009.

In the meantime here, I’ve been having lots of fun. The other day Judy took me for a tour of the city on her motorcycle. We saw…

Real Dutch Windmills

The Red Light District

And Ended with some coffee

It was a lovely time. And that’s what I’ve been up to.

—-Kent

change Of Plans!

I started this trip with what I would refer to as a loose itinerary. I had booked flights. I had planned on making those flights. I didn’t plan this trip out to the minute, or even to the day. But I did plan it to the week. Well, certain things didn’t go according to plan. So now I’m in a McDonald’s at the corner of Southampton Row and Tavistock Place in London, England because they are the only place in London with free internet!

Yesterday I had a flight scheduled to Paris (Beuavais) from Dublin Airport. I forgot what time the flight was, so I figured I would just show up to the airport about 9:00am and hang out there until my flight. I remember it was sorta early. Turns out it was at 6:45am! That’s when I sat down in a cafe and had a mocha. And I sat. And sat….and sat some more. Thinking to myself “Wha…….What do I do now? I’m on a God damned ISLAND! How do I get off this rock? rent a canoodle and paddle my way to France? Maybe I could just swim.” Things take money. Buying another plain ticket was going to cost money. I had money coming into my account, but it wasn’t gonna get there till the next bloody day! And I only had 15 Euro in my pocket at the time. And that was it. I mean all the money I had in the world.

I think I spent enough time in Ireland that i became part leprechaun. Because you’ll never guess what happened next. The airport cafe was really full. And there was a woman sitting on the table next to me with hair all the colors of the rainbow. I told her I liked it! And we just started talking. We must have talked for over an hour before I told her about my morning. I mentioned that I didn’t have any money today, but I would tomorrow. So in the mean time i was sorta stuck.

Then she started to tell me her story. Her father had passed away recently and she inherited roughly $3,000,000. She bought a plain ticket to Dublin on a drunken whim 3 days before, and was gonna tour Europe. She pulled 200 euro out of her pocket and gave it to me.
“That should be able to get you threw till tomorrow, right?” she said with a smirk.

I screamed like a little girl at Christmas time and threw my aims around her! Then it was time for her flight to Prague and she was gone. Just like that. Then it hit me “I’m on an island. Ferries go to and from islands. I can take a ferry from Dublin and catch the train to London and be there before 9pm that night! 5 buses, 1 ferry, 3 trains, and 10 miles of walking with my 50LB backpack, and 11 hours later I arrived at the Generator Hostel in London England. That’s how I got to be at a McDonald’s on the corner of Southampton Row and Tavistock Place.

I have no idea where I’m going next. I have no idea how long I’m going to be here (but it doesn’t look like that long, cause I’ve been sitting here for over an hour and the manager keeps walking past and glaring at me, hehe.)

Until next time

—–Kent

10 Days In Ireland

Hello!

I have come to the conclusion that visiting Ireland was a very very good idea indeed. The people, music, food, drink, and dance. Not to mentions all the churches and castles, it makes for a lovely time. Even in February. Also, Dublin is fun. Galway is even better.

So far in my travels I have met the president, Bertie Ahern, a leprechaun, and lots of nice people.

They are for the most part very friendly. The only exception being a very drunken soccer hooligan. We were talking about football and he was saying how Liverpool was the greatest. I was telling him the Seahawks were the best. I thought we were talking about football. He thought we were talking about football. It was a close call. All the same though, good times with a peaceful resolution.

My electric razor died the day I got here. I’m to cheap to buy another one. I like to think the new found scruffy nature of my face gives me the distinct look of some one backpacking across Europe. So that’s also exciting. I would highly recommend checking my facebook account. That way you can see all the photos and all that fun stuff. If you don’t have a facebook account, it’s easy to sign up and free. So you should do it.

Let me know, what have I been missing in the rest of the world?

Sincerely

—-Kent Combs

Crazy Little Dutch Man

Here at Option, entertainment doesn’t find you. You find it! And that’s exactly what my good friend Chris from Holland did last week when he took a dip in a freezing cold stream. It was -3F (-19C)

Above is chris dressing down before his dip in the stream, and below is the stream 2 yards down from where Chris went in. It’s that frozen over!

I’ve posted the video on facebook and YouTube

If you have a facebook account you can see the pre-swim interview on my page under the videos tab.

3 days left in America. Next is my flight across the pond to Dublin

—–Kent

Why Not Go Swimming

The Option Institute, a place where miracles happen. People come as victims of the world. Believing that outside sources “make” them feel certain things. Not taking responsibility for themselfs. Going threw life without realizing they always have the option to be happy, curious, playful, energetic, etc. Always placing there emotions on external sources. Then you spend some time here, and you start to think. You get the opportunity to really see and explore your beliefs. Why you utilize them, and if you want to continue embracing those patterns of thought. I’ve been here 2 and a half weeks. I have looks at so many aspects of myself. I’ve explored everything from “Why do I snore?” to “Why am I afraid of death?” and everything in between. I have no more fear of death. No more fear of not knowing where I’m going to be next week, or not having a plan. The world just looks more an more perfect to me everyday. I love it!

When you volunteer here, they give you 4 hours of class time a week, 2-6 dialogues (sessions in which you explore any specific beliefs or life situations you want to better understand for yourself,) 3 meals a day, and a place to sleep. In return all they ask of you is to put in about 30 hours of work a week doing whatever jobs they assign you to. Kitchen, property, guest services, the mail room, etc. The first week I was here I was in the kitchen. But then they banished me.I had a dialogue about an instance two months ago where I gave myself a slight burn, intentianaly, while reaching into a 475F oven.

I wanted to explore why the hell I would ever do something like that. I left my dialogue with tons of clearity, just feeling great. I came to the conclusion I had done it for pitty. To get love and affection from others. Like I’d been waiting for those signs of aproval before I would create love from within myself for myself. I genuinly trust that I’ll go my whole life without ever repeating that behavior.

However, the Option Institute doesn’t trust me enough, so they’ve banished me from the kitchen cause they’re afraid I’ll murder myself or something.Hence for, I am on property and house keeping. I make beds and take out the trash. Then I shovel snow and fix things. Sometimes when I’m in the dining hall the cooks will come out and have me taste things for them. “Does it need more salt? Maybe a little cumin?”

One of the first days I was here, I was riding in a plow when it jacked up the back of a prius. It scraped up the back bumper pretty bad

I like the bumper sticker it cut threw.

This is Bruce (the guy who was driving the plow) and Winden (The car owner)

I’m keeping busy and having fun. More to come later

—-Kent Combs

Life At The Option Insitute

I would like to start by saying that this is the coldest I have ever been in my entire life. It’s usually 10 F (-12C) during the day. Then the sun goes down and it gets COLDER some how! a few nights ago it was -15F (-26C). I’ve never experience anything like this.

All I can say is that I love my Arc’teryx jack! I have noticed myself slowly adapting to these arctic conditions. Each day becoming more and more primitive. Grunts and cries are becoming second nature. At times the cold permeates my lips, nose, throat, face, and body so deeply I struggle articulate much more then a grunt. Reducing my intelectual properties at an expenintial rate. By next week I’ll be Scrat from Ice Age the movie.

Scrat – No Time For Nuts – Blog

At times it almst feels like I’m in Narnia. It’s just this snowie, mystical, magical place where miracles happen. I could swear I saw a faun last night. I also saw a bobcat yesterday.

Time to brave the cold again.

—–Kent Combs

Seattle to Sheffield

Seattle is 2,935 miles from Sheffield Massachusetts. I left Seattle at 1:17am on the second of January. I arrived in Hartford Connecticut at 11:34am. The option institute is 51 miles the airport. It was 17 degrees F when I landed. I stepped outside ready to embark to my final destination. That’s when I realized I’d just flown from one coast to the other without making any plans for the final stretch.

So, I decided I would test the hospitality of the locals. I walked around the airport for 2 hours talking to EVERYBODY I could! I asked for a ride, or a roof to stay under. I told people how I’m a chef and I’d cook for them. But Nobody would even budge! After two hours of being told no, I gave up and got a taxi. So 3 hours and $165 later I arrive at the Option Institute in Sheffield MA .

That’s when I found out I wasn’t expected to arrive for another 2 days…So I didn’t have a room. Then I met a one of the other volunteers, who was already living here. And she showed me around. She also showed me a an empty room I was ready to stay in.

It was really exciting to get here. I’m glad to be here, and everything is getting more and more perfect!

—Kent<!–

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