the questions and answers won't come

I dont remember her name. but I remember she was attractive, tall and full bodied, blonde, husky soft voice. french. when we sat together on that beach in Vietnam, her boyfriend a distance away at the bonfire with the other two travelers, we talked about finding the Answer. 

I tried to share with her my paulo coehlo epiphany I had in varanasi india; that you can't find your answer until you have the question, but before I could explain it she finished my sentence for me. 

it's such an obvious insight and basic truth, and simple tactic/strategy... but it never occurred to me until late in my life travels. 

I got her address and promised to send her a postcard.  I never did.... 

the resolutions won't come to me.  I have no questions and no answers, just an amorphous collection of 1st world problems I'm trying to escape from while telling myself I'll figure it all out here.  this midlife crisis of mine. 

of course, hanging over me is the looming fact of old age and death.  I'm past my midlife point.  time and life is running out on me, and that feeling is currently mirrored in my African adventure. I'm halfway done now probably... since I'll probably go to HK and Japan with mom (which is NOT the same as backpacking Africa)

after chisuma village, I am satisfied with my journey.  that whole experience was more than I ever expected or could have hoped for. from hanging with the local boys to the slaughteted goat to the farming to the village life with Lee.  I think there is answer is in there somewhere, i just don't have the question yet.  

maybe I should stop brooding and thinking and join the drunk young people singing so badly out of tune at the hostel bar....