Sunday morning greeted me with an unexpected time change and many final details to arrange and a plane to catch. With every one of these massive international departures I get a little better at being physically and mentally ready for it. I would like to think that the things that still remain undone… will cause no harm and that the countless possession I have recently released into the universe (by leaving them on the street corner in San Francisco where they are promptly adopted and put to good use as junk in yet another unsuspecting house, devoured like ants devour a carcuss) will not be missed. And most of all I hope that the stress, anticipation, anxiety, excitement and exhaustion I feel is not expressed as bitchiness to those around me, especially those taking me to the airport and helping me get the last details arranged. I know there have been several occasions where I was absolutely horrible to the dear people who delivered me on my journey…
Example: the day after graduating from college I had a flight from Boston to Europe where I would start my first such trip. This first one would be modest, six weeks in Europe, but I was still planning to travel alone, spoke only my native language and had not really even yet realized that I had graduated from college, that my life up to that point had been fulfilled and that now there was no obligation or structure… that I now had to sort it all out. We can all fantasize about how great it would be to feel like that again… but that is because we are very forgetful creatures. From my own experience and that of many others of my generation I want to claim the year after college as being some of the hardest times. And maybe I will go into that more later… but the point being that I was about to hop onto a plane, travel half way around the world to unknown lands, languages and a world of people that sort of terrified me… just because it was exactly that unknown.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess that morning too, so much so that I didn’t even know it. My grandmother and my mother drove me the two hours to the Boston Airport. That drive is among the top worst moments of my behavior in life. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I know that I was just terrible. The drive was a blur, but what is still so clear in my memory is the moment I heard the car door close behind me, my feet were on the concrete and my pack hung heavy on my shoulders. The whole world was out of focus except for the ten feet or so I occupied and the car drove away. I feel like I stood there forever. I must have moved. I was trapped in a moment of “what the fuck am I going to do now.” a feeling that came to many times during that year and a number of times since. But in that moment I was first aware of the fear I felt and of the terrible way I had just treated my family.
Hopefully that part of my traveling habit is over.
So this time felt smooth. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. After a healthy waiting period in the airport I boarded a plane the size of a cruise ship. I squeezed in between two healthy American men with their magazines and entertainment gadgets for a 13 hour flight over the pole and though days. 12 hours of mind-numbing movies, a punctuated nap and a few typically foul airplane meals later I set foot on Chinese soil where it was more than a day and a half later. Time for dinner. Although my body thought it was 5 am.
I made my way easily through customs, collected my luggage and was met by a friend. We were whisked off in a taxi to her apartment. The airport is built on the edge of where the marsh meets the water and we drove over marsh land forever until we reached the Pudong district of Shanghai. I was almost blinded by the surreal quality of the life here. My friend is the mother of a life-long friend from Vermont. She moved here in September with her youngest son to teach at an American school here. The apartment comes with the teaching contract and is exquisite: spacious, elegant, clean, and quiet. If this is the simple life, sign me up. We drank tea and talked for a while then I made my way into the heart of the city to meet my cousin who also happened to be living here. He has recently graduated from art school in England and is now a graphic designer for a small company based here in Shanghai. We catch up with each other over my favorite Chinese dishes. We hadn’t seen each other in the two years since our grandfather’s funeral… but he has always been of my favorite cousins. In a family of men there a few women. I am the oldest of 17 cousins most of them male. Of the clan I am the only only child so it is nice to find someone I can claim as family. I have adopted some cousins and a few friends as honorary family members. Now I have siblings too.
Early into the evening, just before I have no more energy, we settle into his comfortable flat on the 16th floor. I crawl into the sleeping loft and sink into the haze that has been creeping into my bones and from behind my eyelids for many hours now. The sleep sweeps me away, like jumping into a pool. There was no hesitation and no going back.
Example: the day after graduating from college I had a flight from Boston to Europe where I would start my first such trip. This first one would be modest, six weeks in Europe, but I was still planning to travel alone, spoke only my native language and had not really even yet realized that I had graduated from college, that my life up to that point had been fulfilled and that now there was no obligation or structure… that I now had to sort it all out. We can all fantasize about how great it would be to feel like that again… but that is because we are very forgetful creatures. From my own experience and that of many others of my generation I want to claim the year after college as being some of the hardest times. And maybe I will go into that more later… but the point being that I was about to hop onto a plane, travel half way around the world to unknown lands, languages and a world of people that sort of terrified me… just because it was exactly that unknown.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess that morning too, so much so that I didn’t even know it. My grandmother and my mother drove me the two hours to the Boston Airport. That drive is among the top worst moments of my behavior in life. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I know that I was just terrible. The drive was a blur, but what is still so clear in my memory is the moment I heard the car door close behind me, my feet were on the concrete and my pack hung heavy on my shoulders. The whole world was out of focus except for the ten feet or so I occupied and the car drove away. I feel like I stood there forever. I must have moved. I was trapped in a moment of “what the fuck am I going to do now.” a feeling that came to many times during that year and a number of times since. But in that moment I was first aware of the fear I felt and of the terrible way I had just treated my family.
Hopefully that part of my traveling habit is over.
So this time felt smooth. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. After a healthy waiting period in the airport I boarded a plane the size of a cruise ship. I squeezed in between two healthy American men with their magazines and entertainment gadgets for a 13 hour flight over the pole and though days. 12 hours of mind-numbing movies, a punctuated nap and a few typically foul airplane meals later I set foot on Chinese soil where it was more than a day and a half later. Time for dinner. Although my body thought it was 5 am.
I made my way easily through customs, collected my luggage and was met by a friend. We were whisked off in a taxi to her apartment. The airport is built on the edge of where the marsh meets the water and we drove over marsh land forever until we reached the Pudong district of Shanghai. I was almost blinded by the surreal quality of the life here. My friend is the mother of a life-long friend from Vermont. She moved here in September with her youngest son to teach at an American school here. The apartment comes with the teaching contract and is exquisite: spacious, elegant, clean, and quiet. If this is the simple life, sign me up. We drank tea and talked for a while then I made my way into the heart of the city to meet my cousin who also happened to be living here. He has recently graduated from art school in England and is now a graphic designer for a small company based here in Shanghai. We catch up with each other over my favorite Chinese dishes. We hadn’t seen each other in the two years since our grandfather’s funeral… but he has always been of my favorite cousins. In a family of men there a few women. I am the oldest of 17 cousins most of them male. Of the clan I am the only only child so it is nice to find someone I can claim as family. I have adopted some cousins and a few friends as honorary family members. Now I have siblings too.
Early into the evening, just before I have no more energy, we settle into his comfortable flat on the 16th floor. I crawl into the sleeping loft and sink into the haze that has been creeping into my bones and from behind my eyelids for many hours now. The sleep sweeps me away, like jumping into a pool. There was no hesitation and no going back.
No comments:
Post a Comment