Tag Archives: adventure

Respond, don’t react

“Are you attaching? Of course you are! It’s human nature. You know the drill. Let it go. Loosen the grip — respond, don’t react.”

He doesn’t know how much he helped me with that brief rundown on life lessons 101. In 2 mins flat, over fresh fruit smoothies no less.

What if the apartment doesn’t work out? Let it go. There’ll be another one. Where am I gonna keep my stuff? Let it go. It’s just stuff. Will my body survive without the gentle touch of that special man? Let it go. Touch is everywhere.

Am I attaching?

Of course. Thoughts, actions, feelings, habits, fears, freedoms — everything holds me too close. Dancing amid pragmatism and adolescence; those awkward years between birth and death.

If you’re averse to awkwardness, chances are you’ll be averse to life.

I lay my head down on the start-stop of myself, repeating the uneasy silence within until I hear its pattern. Wound-up energy with no place to breathe.

If not this, then what? Gliding from here to there, unencumbered? Can’t do it; impossible.

No, these untimely-unseemly-downright-uncomfortable asymmetries demand to be embraced. Roughly, warmly, they beg to be sought after — not avoided.

I am not always my best self.

But I still buy my ticket: I still get on the plane.

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It’s been some time…

I booked an onward out of Thailand, to Vietnam, as of course Ethiopian Airlines was gonna check. I knew it. After asking my Chiang Mai friends, “do you ever book on onward flight when you fly into TH?” and receiving a unanimous chorus of, “No!” I knew that, since I was flying from Africa, it would likely be different. And it was.

Ethiopian Airlines employee, Ugandan, female: “Where is your return ticket from Vietnam to Canada?”

Me: “I don’t have one. I don’t need one. I am required to have an onward/return out of Thailand. Once I’m in another country, my whereabouts is no longer the responsibility of your airline.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m fairly confident that it is.”

“Let me check the rule book.”

Knowing full well I don’t have the money to afford a return flight from VN to CA, I somehow keep completely calm. It’s probably just that I lack the energy to feel stressed at this point. 4.5 months in Uganda has been enough, even though I’ll miss it fucking fiercely. Damn.

Airline Employee: “See! Look, it says right here. You need a return ticket from VN to your home country.”

I read the fine-print of her rule book that has every visa regulation for every country regarding entering/exiting procedures. The book clearly states exactly what I told her: that anyone flying into Thailand technically can be prevented from boarding a flight if they don’t show proof of an onward/return air ticket.

I realize that I’m dealing with what I suspect is a white person rule. Maybe I’m wrong. But judging by her incredibly rude and aggressive tone toward me, it seemed like she was exercising her all-mighty airline employee power wherever she could.

Thankful I’d randomly given away an expensive extension cord to another male (Ugandan) Ethiopian Airlines employee about 30 minutes prior (based on solely the whim of a voice inside me saying, “you don’t need this, give it away”), I now sought him out as a potential much-needed ally to get me aboard the plane.

Still carrying the extension cord, he said, “ahhhh” when I explained the situation. Apparently this is just how things go. I’m escorted to speak with the head of EA, where I’m grilled for 15 minutes about my plans. I pass all the tests, and he nods. My extension corded escort gives me the signal to stand.

“So….?”

“You’re fine, it’s not a problem.” Huh. I wander back downstairs, where I find out that of course news of this newly granted permission  has not been given to anyone who actually has the power to let me through to check-in.

Another hour goes by. I’m grateful that I always make a point of being at the airport early. Eventually the information is transmitted and the lady who was adamant that I produce a return ticket begrudgingly lets me through, with a glare. I smile politely, even with my eyes, trying to connect with her, trying to have empathy for the fact that I’m sure it’s a tough job, and I have no idea what her personal situation is. And maybe she really did think that the rule was what she said, and maybe she doesn’t read English very well, and maybe she had a bad day. And maybe.

The flight turns out to have open seating. This is a first for me: of all the times I’ve flown, never before have I witnessed a free-for-all in seating inside the airplane. The cause, as far as I can gather is that a group of smartly dressed men from Kigali made an unannounced late arrival at the airport, and no one was organized enough to properly process them all. I could be wrong.

This leads, unsurprisingly, to a miscount of persons on the plane — we supposedly have one extra body. Triggering concerns of security issues, the flight is delayed for over an hour while the airline stewardesses make numerous failed attempts to determine who the extra person is. We try helping them, making suggestions including actually checking everyone’s seat number, instead of asking people to raise their hands when we can’t even hear what the question is.

Many people seated (by choice!) near me grumble as they realize they’ll be missing their connecting flights due to this delay. I shake my head and make enjoyable conversation with my seatmate. I feel absolutely fantastic about the fact that I’m even on the plane. Whatever happens from here on out, no problem.

Eventually, it’s discovered that the miscount is because one lady took it upon herself to use the ‘free seating’ policy as her big chance to seat herself in first class. Somehow this led them to miscalculate, likely because they didn’t actually count those of us in economy.

And that was the end to my Ugandan adventure. Entirely appropriate. Grateful for the experience, the incredible friends I met, and utterly relieved to be back in Chiang Mai, where I can ride my bicycle everywhere, eat fruit smoothies from street stalls, and drink yummy hot lattes at any corner. Oh, and run into awesome people every few minutes when out and about. And…

So much to LOVE!

Three cheers

When I left my job, my home in Chiang Mai, when I packed it all up, stored it away at friends’ abodes, sold whatever was left, I felt light, free and flying. At some point my seemingly small amount of stuff (really, all I have is what I have with me) started to seem monstrous. My suitcase, yoga mat, backpack, shoulder bag became burdensome.

Three days of transportation, my time of dread during travel. My indecisiveness over where I’d end up won over my desire to go light. I’ve been carting around more luggage than is anywhere near acceptable to hip-hop ‘round India, let alone Egypt. My desire for no commitment extended to not wanting to wed any particular airport.

Debit card malfunction. Lickity split Western Union is indeed uber-speedy with the cash. No harm, just a bit of a stressed am for chilled-out, weed-cloaked, aloo gobi-laden Hampi. Plane ticket purchased with fresh-off-the-press Rupees. Pyramids win over surfing in Sri, doubling back to CM or booking it to Europe. The mayhem of Cairo, beaches of Dahab and the Pyramids of oh-what’s-it-called Giza are officially on the agenda. The calendar is colourful with blue and yellow skies and sand.

If I’ve learned anything from this experience, of quitting my job, leaving the people and place I loved dearly, jumping into palm trees of another sort, headed with absolutely no direction, not even a suitcase-leaving-at-the-airport direction, it’s that I’ll be okay, I’ll be fine. No, I’ll be better than fine, that’s just it. I’ll be damned near leaping off the bed excited for my next destination, thoughts spinning from one end of my brain to the other with art projects, colours flying around my heart, inside my lungs, arms energetically unfolding outward, gently curving inward expressing my self with my dance; eyes exploding with determination, gut panging with fear of going to yet another place unknown, untested, unguaranteed, and with pride and passion for the exact same reasons.

The path, she is right. Three cheers! Here’s to a fantastic 2013 and living your heart with all the grace in the world.