The Bearable Lightness of Travel
Exiting customs and entering the terminal in Dulles International in our nation's capitol, I was hit with culture shock. People scurried about with their rolling suitcases, trying to get to their gates quickly so they could sit around and wait. There were lines of impatient people, awaiting the glories of Starbucks and fast food.
It made me miss the place I had just left. Being in the Netherlands and Germany was more to my liking. Amsterdam did indeed have people scurrying around, some in cars, on trams and buses, many on bicycles or on foot. (I did, however, see some road rage on bikes.) In Cologne, their two Starbucks were tucked into the city, hidden away, surrounded by cafes, brewhouses, eis-cafes. Impatience seemed to be on vacation, elsewhere, most likely in the States, creating a much more laxed atmosphere I found as I made my way through these cities.
I felt naked my first day out, for my pockets did not contain their usual bulk. No cell phone. No car keys. No wallet filled with business cards, ID cards, membership cards. In my front pocket was my passport and my wallet that held but one ATM card, one credit card, and a few Euros. Jingling in the other pocket were more Euros in change form. I felt at ease as I walked along canals, boarded trams, and trains. As I biked there wasn't an awkward bulge that needed shifting around (in reference to what was in the pockets). Feeling comfortable by the second day, I wandered the cities, my worries of financial aid and work-related annoyance fleeting. My only worry was how I could fill up each day with a new activity and how much time I had to wander these places.
I caught myself smiling as I looked at buildings or at the sound of a bike bell before I jumped out of the way. I didn't feel any watchful, pondering eyes as the Counselor and I held hands or embraced. Not once did an inhabitant of these two countries demand that I speak their respective national languages. This is how life should be. This I can do. It's a pity we must work for it.
As my second flight home started its descent into Los Angeles, I felt a pressing upon my chest. I felt the lines of cars in traffic and smog abound coming back to me. Upon that was the ennui that exists with my work. Stacked upon that was Long Beach, a world all its own, where many seem to be content that their city is the only world.
They say when traveling, you miss your home more. I say when I travel, I miss this place less. Of course, I have yet to take my excursions to Baghdad or Darfur.
It made me miss the place I had just left. Being in the Netherlands and Germany was more to my liking. Amsterdam did indeed have people scurrying around, some in cars, on trams and buses, many on bicycles or on foot. (I did, however, see some road rage on bikes.) In Cologne, their two Starbucks were tucked into the city, hidden away, surrounded by cafes, brewhouses, eis-cafes. Impatience seemed to be on vacation, elsewhere, most likely in the States, creating a much more laxed atmosphere I found as I made my way through these cities.
I felt naked my first day out, for my pockets did not contain their usual bulk. No cell phone. No car keys. No wallet filled with business cards, ID cards, membership cards. In my front pocket was my passport and my wallet that held but one ATM card, one credit card, and a few Euros. Jingling in the other pocket were more Euros in change form. I felt at ease as I walked along canals, boarded trams, and trains. As I biked there wasn't an awkward bulge that needed shifting around (in reference to what was in the pockets). Feeling comfortable by the second day, I wandered the cities, my worries of financial aid and work-related annoyance fleeting. My only worry was how I could fill up each day with a new activity and how much time I had to wander these places.
I caught myself smiling as I looked at buildings or at the sound of a bike bell before I jumped out of the way. I didn't feel any watchful, pondering eyes as the Counselor and I held hands or embraced. Not once did an inhabitant of these two countries demand that I speak their respective national languages. This is how life should be. This I can do. It's a pity we must work for it.
As my second flight home started its descent into Los Angeles, I felt a pressing upon my chest. I felt the lines of cars in traffic and smog abound coming back to me. Upon that was the ennui that exists with my work. Stacked upon that was Long Beach, a world all its own, where many seem to be content that their city is the only world.
They say when traveling, you miss your home more. I say when I travel, I miss this place less. Of course, I have yet to take my excursions to Baghdad or Darfur.
posted by matty at 5:13 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home