Skip to main content

Thinking Travel

Longish essay musing on Covid but the part that resonated most with me was on travel. I had chance to travel internationally several times during the pandemic. Sometimes to visit a loved one, sometimes to explore a part of the world I have never been to. Traditionally, both have been considered very worthy reasons for travel.

It makes for an memorable experience and one that you reminisce about for years. During the travels with all the complications arising from pandemic restrictions, it was often impossible to convince myself that this was a good decision. During the time spent being with people I love or places I have wanted to see or both, there was some sense of redemption. But there were moments all along when the costs simply did not compute - I wished I had not even bothered. Small aggravations that are part of any trip no matter where and for what reason, would make wish I had the sense to just stay home. 

The romantic ideal of travel is to leave as one version of yourself and return another, changed, “better” of yourself. This trip changed me, but not in the ways you might classically expect. I’ve returned suspicious of travel, more confused than ever about why so many people travel. Unsure if most travel of the last few decades makes sense, or has ever made sense or justified the cost. 

I am finding it quite difficult these days to embrace the romantic ideal of travel. The level of aggravations have got to the point where its too easy to get dislodged from the feeling, land with a thud on the hard reality of delayed and cancelled flights, lost baggage, arcane entry and exit rules, assortment of paperwork that needs to be on hand and much more. That is after weeks of struggle to book tickets that are reasonably priced without having huge layovers and multiple connections. You arrive at your destination nerves frayed hoping that the vacation will restore them when in fact, reality is far from that. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...