America and Bust

Home or Bust (probably bust)

So here I sit, wondering again what the future will hold. I have crossed thousands of miles and warped both time and reality once again in my return across the Pacific. My plane left Sydney at 9:25 PM on July 28th and it will be arriving in San Francisco at 9:20 PM on July 28th. This means that as far as our conception of time is understood, for a brief few moments I will exist in two places at once. Between 9:20 and 9:25, I will exist both in America and in Australia. Perhaps, this is the most fitting and poetic representation of the past 8 months. As I have spent my time in Australia straddling the mindset of both an American and an Australia. Yet now as I find myself stepping once again on US soil I wonder if that is a mindset which will never leave me, or if that is even a bad thing.

Expanding one's view of the world is a good thing, and being away from home for so long allows you to see that home through new and unimagined eyes. Unfortunately, my first few days back within my own borders were not exactly paradise. As I soared over the Pacific I made one stop on the island of Honolulu, an idyllic and tropical land of warmth and happiness. I was only scheduled to have a little under two hours in this gateway to America as I changed flights... unfortunately that time span rapidly shortened as my flight from Sydney to Hawaii was delayed by nearly an hour. Which meant that I had approximately 45 minutes to change planes. Also unfortunate, was the fact that I had to go through US Customs and Immigration in this short time period, which also meant I had to collect and recheck my luggage. So as (my) luck would have it I apparently was traveling with a platoon of US Army soldiers returning from leave in Australia. This was interesting as I had a conversation with some of them, but it was also bad as since they all had military ID's they were practically immune to random bag inspections. So I was the only one left to be picked for a random bag inspection, which tacked on a good 20 minutes to my already hectic time frame.

So as random bag inspections go, it was hardly random. Still, I placidly endured the questioning and watched as the TSA representative rifled through my dirty towels and clothing to find absolutely nothing of any interest. To his credit he was very understanding and he tried to push the process along as quickly as possible, knowing that I was due to board a flight in 20 minutes. I realize such security inspections are necessary, but the whole thing was still a major time consuming inconvenience. It works under the same principle of driving behind old ladies or catching all the traffic lights when your late to work. Maybe it was Adam's Law just rearing its ugly head one more time to remind me that life is not always going to be perfect or smooth. We just need to make the best of what we have got.

After clearing immigration, I took my bag and sprinted through the 100 degree Hawaiian airport to make it to my next flight. I checked my bag in a mere 15 minutes before the plane was set to depart and then sprinted my way down to gate 33 at the other end of the airport. I arrived just in time to make the flight, thought I doubt my seat mates were happy, as I was profusely sweating and still wearing the sweater and light-jacket I had been wearing in Sydney. I hoped that was the end of my inconveniences and I sat back to await my arrival in San Francisco. I should have known it was never that simple.

I arrive in the Bay City a mere five hours later. As it was night time, I weary dragged myself off the plane and the the proper luggage carousal to await my baggage. So I waited, and waited, and waited some more. Finally when all my fellow passengers had happily received their luggage I realized that mine was not among them. All there was remaining was a discarded baby carriage and suspicious brown package with more duct tape than cardboard holding it together. It had finally happened. After many many months of travel, the airline had finally lost my luggage. The only clothing I had for the next two days was the sweaty dirty t-shirt and jeans I had arrived. (I was looking forward to changing into shorts, but that never happened.) So for my first two days in San Francisco I was sans-clothing.

I did eventually receive my luggage. It was dropped off at the hostel I was staying at and upon arrival I was finally able to have a shower (with soap and shampoo), shave, and finally put on a pair of shorts for my Californian summer. My luggage never made it onto the plane and thus it spent a few extra days in Hawaii. (My luggage gets to go on better vacations than I do.) Apparently, you cannot check your bags 15 minutes before departure and expect them to arrive on time.

Still, I suppose this was as fitting way as any to return to the country of my birth. It proved to me that challenges do not stop because you return to a familiar place. Obstacles and inconveniences are everyday occurrences and not anything to get too excited over. Lost luggage will eventually be found, and even random bag inspections cannot delay the inevitable. I'm home.

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish (and chips)

Reflection time: Yes its going to be one of
those blogs entries.

So this is it. I'm on my way home, but before I click my heels and utter an often used cliche I find myself reflecting back on these past eight months. I have found myself plagued with challenges, triumphs, relationships, money problems, poor transit systems, and the general exhaustion of months and months of travel. However, I have learned many things over the past many months, lessons which will certainly carry me through the rest of my life. I have boiled this knowledge down to a few succinct points:
1. There is always at least one crazy man who lives in every hostel around the world. He is the one who owns hundreds of shopping bags that he keeps all his newspaper clippings in and sits in the cafeteria eating his can of tuna.
2. In every room in every hostel there is at least one person who snores. In my last hostel I not only found a man who snores, but he uttered nocturnal sounds which I have only ever heard coming from sleeping dogs, (and some awake ones too.)
3. Chocolate muffins are just as good and a full dollar cheaper at the supermarket then they are at any trendy coffee shop.
4. I traveled with two backpacks, and even that was too much at times. If I were to ever do this again, I have determined I can do it with only carry-on luggage.
5. Australian air travel is cheaper in the early morning. An added benefit is that if the flight is early enough you do not have to pay for a room for the night, you just sleep in the airport.
6. Life is change, and that goes double for when you are traveling. There is no such things as a permanency, but thats not always a scary thing.

Perhaps that last one (as basic as it seems) was one of the harder aspects of this trip to confront, especially when it comes to meeting people. I will admit that on my journey I have had my fair share of friendships and relationships, but regardless of who they are or the nature of the friendship there is always a part of your mind that reminds you that in a few days/weeks/months, eventually you will be moving on and it is very unlikely you will ever see them again. That is unfortunately means that in the end, it is only you. For the most part I did not always mind this. It allowed me to keep my own schedule, to work on my writing, and to generally explore the country as I saw fit. It also gave me a sense of self-reliance and resiliency I do not know I could claim a year ago. Yet, if I were to sit here and write that I was perfectly content being alone all the time, it would be a lie. I think the times it really affected me the most were as I would disembark from a plane at the airport. After spending X number of hours struggling through security, bag checks, uncomfortable seats on a plane, you step off and you get to watch your fellow passengers walk into the arms of others whom they care about. You watch them scream hello or jump excitedly as they are greeted by friends, lovers, and family. It is a perfect second of joy, where no thoughts or problems seem to be able to intrude on the momentary emotions of that rekindled friendship and love. I would often watch these joyous reunions as I walked by them laden down with my own bags, before turning my thoughts to the task of making my way from the airport to my next destination or the next flight I needed to catch. Yes, airports were the hardest.

Tony and Lina, my two closest Aussie friends.

Thankfully, though such thoughts of melancholy only lasted for small moments. As for the rest of my time in Australia I find myself with only few regrets. The biggest ones usually stem from the overspending I managed to accomplish because of a my ignorance of the culture and general bad purchase making. I also did not reach the fabled Australian west coast, but in actuality there is not much out there, except the most remote state capital in the world, Perth. I guess I'll just have to come back. As for my unaccomplished To-Do list which is conveniently (and glaringly) there on the right side-panel of this blog, I can only give the following excuses:
1. Try to Convince a Local I am Australian: In truth I almost accomplished this one. As I was leaving Melbourne I found myself told by more than one Australian that my American accent was slight, and I was even asked where I was from. Unfortunately the accent did not take full effect on me, )I personally believe it is due to my natural tone-deafness,) but it seems to have more of an affect that I would have guessed. It is still not enough to mark this as completed.
2. Box a Kangaroo: I did fight a kangaroo, but we used a form of mixed martial arts based mostly on Aikido and Ju-jitsu. Sadly there was no box moves involved.
3. Ski (fall down the Mountains of Australia: This one is not my fault. It has been one of the warmest winters in Australia and New Zealand, which meant that not a lot of the slopes (basically none) had any ski worthy snow. It was actually a big problem in New Zealand where skiing is one of their major tourist draws.
4. See if I can play Knifey-Spoony with a local: Apparently, this is actually a little offensive as it reminds them of the Paul Hogan-era when the world noticed that Australia existed. It is also hard to get the proper set-up. Mostly I tried to pull this out at restaurants, but no one has yet to offer me a knife.

However, my regrets are truthfully rather few and far between. Over all, I found my experience to be very positive. I met many amazing people, saw many unbelievable sights, and had more than my fair share of weird and daring adventures.
 

My little sister comes to visit.



So now it is time to look toward the future, and I will admit that I find myself coping with a certain amount of anxiety as I think about going home. There is a lot consider: How have I changed over the past months? How has the world changed in my absence? (Has the Eastern Seaboard been consumed in nuclear Armageddon?) Will anyone remember me, or will I be met only with looks of vague comprehension? Most of all, I wonder if this whole trip has been worth anything? Has it better prepared me for the next stage of my life (which I am going to call that Stage 3-3: Bowser's Castle)? I will have to struggle for the next few months as I again reestablish myself in the place of my birth. There is job hunting to do and the thousands of other small tasks that comes with becoming an adult. Yes, in a few months I will be 28 years old and adulthood is something I can no longer deny, however I have also learned that nothing (even the unknown) is as scary as we often make it out to be. Everything is what we make of it, and maybe I can make something positive of this whole adult thing as well.

 

What this is all boiling down to one question: What have I gained from my experiences. In the Joseph Campbell's Monomyth or Hero's Journey, throughout the course of the journey the hero acquires what is called a boon. It is a new understanding of the world, a special knowledge of something greater, or even a new supernatural power. I often find myself wondering if my own Unheroic Journey has furnished me with any such boon. Since I still cannot fly or cast lighting from my fingertips (much to my disappointment) I must wonder if that boon is something more internal. Truthfully, I do not feel very different. I feel just as clumsy and ordinary as I ever did. I am still me, but maybe now I am realizing that just being me is okay. In fact, maybe just being me is even a little better than okay. 

My favorite Aussie, Loz, hates pictures so I choose one where
she is hidden by Texans.

I heard an expression the other day, Find the life in meaning, not the meaning in life (Okay I didn't hear it I made it up.) As confusing as that seems I think it means that I shouldn't always spend every moment looking for some hidden meaning in the minutia of life and destiny. Life has the meaning we assign to it, and maybe its time to stop spending so much time wondering about my destiny and to go out and make it for myself. When you take control of your life, that is when you find what you are looking for. One of the biggest things I have learned is that even the wrong the decisions can result in positive results, and amazing things can happen. Personally, I have spent the last months hopping across two countries barely aware of what time zone I was in, yet I have I remained in control. I even managed to finish a novel and write a successful blog (at least in my mind its successful), and experience more than I would have ever dreamed of. Its funny, when you expand your comfort zone to half-way around the world, the world seems less big and even your hurdles seem smaller than ever before. I do not know if any of these qualify as a boon, but maybe that doesn't matter.

My last horrible proverb on all this is that: beginnings are easy, endings are always hard. After all, any idiot with half a mind can start something, but it takes a special kind of idiot to see it all the way through to the end. (At least I know I am that special kind of idiot,) but what is an ending if only another beginning? Maybe the unheroic journey is not a trip or a span of time, but maybe it is life as a whole, maybe it is an uncompleted work? I don't pretend to understand it (and I just made a promise that I would stop trying to breathe meaning into everything.) Still as the wise sages of the 90's once said: every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end, (and some blog endings come from conveniently stolen song lyrics)