Dearest Rachel –
There is a long-standing tradition among those that come down here to Just One that, after the evening debrief back at the hotel, a number of them would congregate outside of the auditorium in the back of the hotel campus (but not as far back as our rooms are, I should point out), sharing snacks and drinks, and just generally unwinding together. When I was here last time around, my window was only a matter of feet from where they were gathered, so I could hear – but not make out – what they were talking and laughing about, giving me a frequent case of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). To alleviate my symptoms, I would, more often than not, wander out and join them for a while.
The thing is – and you could confirm this – such gatherings, especially at that time of night and after putting in a long day at the campus (or elsewhere), are not something that generally appeals to me. I may do it out of an understanding that I need to socialize more (including the remote possibility of doing so to find ‘Megumi’), but I’m not exactly in my element here, even among friends like we become over such a short period.
Meanwhile, as I’m telling you this, I tend to think back to the days of conventions and travel that we used to do together, and how you would leave the room in the evening for hours at a time. This is quite possibly the sort of thing you would gravitate to, attracted to the conversation like iron to a magnet. Even the local snacks would probably appeal to you, if you were hungry enough (although knowing you, you would have brought stuff from home of your own to share, and would be more likely to do that than to partake of something from someone else; you liked what you liked, after all).
On the other hand, it isn’t as if the group is playing any sort of games, whether board or card, or if they would even be interested in doing so if you brought your own to play with. And at the same time, some of the things they are partaking in are of the sort that, while you might not object to them doing so (like coffee at a breakfast table, for example) you wouldn’t dream of joining in on. However, doing so is all part of the socializing process, and to not do so feels like sitting on the sidelines. So it’s an interesting hypothetical question; would you be heading to the table to hang out with the others, or not?
Of course, you know my answer to that; ordinarily, I wouldn’t gravitate to this activity out of anything more than straight-up curiosity about the various topics of discussion. But when you only hear the noise of conversation, but can’t pick up on the actual discussion itself, you have to go out there personally to find out what’s being said. Sometimes I would find myself stick around for an extended period of time, just to be a part of it all.
However, this time around, my room is around the corner from where that action would be taking place – and a floor above it, as well. As a result, if anything is going on over there, I have no idea, as I can’t hear any of it going on; what I do hear are various animal noises from an uncertain direction, be it dogs barking at night or roosters crowing in the morning. Nothing of nearby conversation and other festive activity that I can discern. And what you don’t hear, you don’t think of yourself as missing out on, as it isn’t really happening, as far as you know – unless you venture out there to check, and most nights, I just don’t feel quite up to that.
Then again, for all I know, you would probably head out every night, and even if you weren’t necessarily keen on everything that went on, I suspect you’d want to know if it was happening, and decide for yourself whether you wanted to stay by hanging around for at least a few minutes.
Ironically, I’m putting this together on Thursday night, after we’ve gotten back from the No Hungry Home walks (which I intend to write you about later on), and between that extra activity and a fairly long night around the fire pit at the campus, we’re getting back to the hotel much later than usual. As a result, when I went around the corner, just to check on what was going on by the auditorium, there was nobody there. Either it was too late and everyone was too tired to gather, or I had just shown up way too early. But I was too much of the former to stick around and see if the latter thesis was true. Hey, honey, I’m just an old widower leading my life; I’m not an investigative reporter. 
Still, if you could see your way clear to keep an eye on me, and wish me luck, I’d appreciate it. After all, you know how much I need it. 
Letters to Rachel 