Traveling Realities
I had forgotten. Despite my excitement to return to Asia for the first time in three years I had forgotten about the actualities of traveling. Specifically, I had forgotten what it was like to stand amidst harried airport security traffic to relinquish shoes, laptop, and cell phone, hoping I wouldn’t need a pat down or a search through. I had forgotten what it was like to be corralled in a 3 x 3 cubic space seat (yes, in Economy) and to incur an 11-hour flight complete with the likes of turbulence I hadn’t experienced in nearly a decade. I had forgotten what it was like to navigate ticketing, trains, and transfers to locate accommodations we had never been to before, all while carting along luggage on what amounted to less than 2 hours of sleep. So yes, I had forgotten.
To add to my wake-up call of traveling reality, layered on were COVID screenings, checking temperatures and applying/reapplying sanitizer, producing vaccination cards and other paperwork I had already tucked away and now had to take out again, all while trying to mime and mimic my way through a language I didn’t know.
I was out of my element, taking my Filipino-American self out of the West (physically, at least, considering global impacts of Westernization) and plopping myself somewhere different. Although it definitely wasn’t my first trip to Japan, this time felt different. It was interesting experiencing this trip as an American in a post-COVID world, seeing how the pandemic had politicized attitudes about mask wearing, or even just about expecting others to speak my language, blithely talking too loudly on the train or taking up space, or implanting oneself into another's' country and culture to fulfill individualistic expectations of a vacation.
I cried more than I ever have on this trip and not just because of the amount of times I got lost or confused, although that played a part. (Word from the wise: do NOT wait until the last moment to buy your brother those hard-sought Kit Kats while trying to navigate the labyrinth of Tokyo Station while having both you and your partner’s cell phones in tow [don’t ask]. You might not win!) Years of literally being stuck at home and in my own thoughts made it hard to connect and to think, and I struggled with things I hadn’t before, such as how to count money or how to say “Hello” and “Thank You.”
And yet, there were so many other moments that this trip allowed for. To me this trip signaled more than just the opportunity to travel internationally again, or to trigger hope of living past a pandemic that has seemed to last for entirely way too long. Additionally, it gave me the opportunity to visit memories, to visit places and people of my past that no longer exist, or at least the versions I knew. It allowed the time, distance, and space to consider where life has taken me, as well as where I would like to go next. Finally, it allowed me the chance to connect again: to connect with people and perspectives outside my own, to remind me that everything that I experience at home isn’t reality for others and how that is a good thing.
While 2020 was a doozy, 2022 has been full of growth and change that I have yet to entangle and sift through. From reaching midway through my doctoral program to closing the chapter on a teaching position after 13 years, I have yet to figure out the pieces of what’s next, especially how I will use privilege and positionality to empower others around me. As 2023 starts to hint at its own unique possibilities, challenges, and changes, I can’t say I am completely ready for those yet with open arms, just as I dazedly wonder where the last week and a half of my vacation went. But this is life, and just as life moves forward whether I’m ready for it or not, I suppose I shall eventually too, as well.
