the stink of nostalgia

Sometimes, when I'm walking, I'll suddenly smell something that reminds me of Asia. A wave of nostalgia rushes over me, and I see myself wandering the streets, bouncing from one food stand to another, gorging myself on heavenly food for just a few dollars.

I see my relatives, good people I rarely see. It's always like a leap in time, seeing them once when they're babies and then seeing them again when they're 4 feet tall. Ah, but there's nothing quite like family.

And then, the other day, I took a second longer upon drifting back to reality to figure out what that smell was.

I realized it was the wonderful combination of sewage and rotting fish. Hm.

That's when I remembered how dirty Asia was. Trash and dirt on the sidewalks. Grungy-looking buildings and food stands. Flies and mosquitos a constant presence. Smog choking the air, casting a gray film over entire cities.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wish I were there.