Category Archives: travel
places i’ve been and places i wanna go
bookworm wednesday – longitude
it’s a rare treat when a nonfiction book reads like a work of fiction. i love to learn, so education is entertainment for me, but it’s nice to get caught up in a true story the way you might in a novel. this week’s bookworm wednesday review is of a little book that did just that for me: Longitude by Dava Sobel (3 of 5 stars).
i didn’t realize what a big deal “the longitude problem” was in the eighteeth century. it was the scientific dilemma of the day that impacted the fortunes of nations, the lives of thousands of sailors, and all exploration by sea. it was such a significant concern that the british parliament offered a prize equal to several million of today’s dollars to anyone who could solve the problem.
john harrison was the first person to imagine a mechanical solution. everyone else (galileo & sir isaac newton included) had always looked to the sky for the answer, mapping stars and planets. the story is of harrison’s forty-year obsession with building his perfect timekeeper–an epic scientific quest. and along the way the reader gets to learn about the fascinating world of astronomy, navigation, and clockmaking.
sobel’s storytelling is engaging, but not engrossing. the story itself is interesting enough to keep you flying through the short volume. i can’t decide if this book is more history, biography, or science, but if you like any of those you won’t regret spending a few hours with this one.
what is your favorite type of book to read? do you like when several genres intersect in one book?
figment friday – baggage
this week’s daily themes have been focused on varying approaches toward developing a novel-in-progress. that has been interesting practice for me, because i’ve never actually crafted a fully-realized fictional piece, aside from the short stories i wrote as a kid. since novel development doesn’t really result in blog-sized essays, this week’s figment friday post is my response to a writing prompt from the first week in january–before i decided to share.
PROMPT: You’re on an airplane, mid-flight, when one of the overhead bins suddenly opens. Three bags fall out, spilling their contents up and down the aisle. Describe the three bags and what was in each. Through your descriptions, show us who their owners are and what those people are like. **Added challenge: Turn those bags into characters. Try using personification and other forms of figurative language to make the baggage itself have, well, baggage.
the occasional shudder of turbulence suddenly becomes a stomach-lurching dip in altitude that incites a collective gasp from the passengers. before i can fully recover, the overhead compartment across the aisle flies open, pouring it’s cargo into the cabin.
the strap of an oversized purple and orange tote snags on the latch of the overhead bin, and the tired bag hangs upside down from the hook, emptying it’s contents with a sigh onto the lap of the lady in the aisle seat. relieved to be free of the heavy load, the well-worn satchel dances an aerial jig with the bounce of the airplane.
while the startled young woman tries to decide whether to cover her head or catch the items raining down on her, the briefcase that was nestled behind the colorful carryall slides forward, launches across the aisle, and slams angrily into the headrest of the seat in front of me. the seat’s occupant, clearly oblivious to the concussion he narrowly averted, whips around to deliver a glare that says he holds me responsible for the rattling annoyance.
i immediately throw my hands up in a display of innocence, but before he can even acknowledge my gesture, an overstuffed backpack tumbles out of the open bin and catches him right across the nose. he curses and stares down at the paunchy pack, which has settled on top of what must be his own briefcase, judging by the speed with which he unbuckles so he can reach it.
but as the suit-clad man snatches the surly case up by the handle, it’s evident that the closure was damaged on it’s impact with either the seat or the floor. wounded from it’s attempted assault, the ornery attaché falls open and releases a steady stream of papers…no, pamphlets…no, comic books! “graphic novels,” i hear him mutter as he hastily gathers the fluttering pages.
meanwhile, the boy in the window seat is clamoring over the woman with a lap full of her belongings to get to his bulging knapsack. he upsets the pile of paraphernalia she had been assembling, and the magazines, lipsticks, candy, pens, half-crocheted scarf, ball of yarn, and red cloche hat spill into the aisle and roll toward first class. a flight attendant positions herself in front of the curtain in a wide-legged crouch, ready to play goalie and block any coach possessions from breaking through.
the boy crawls under a surprised passenger’s feet to retrieve his bag, and trips the businessman chasing down a runaway comic caught in the stream of an air vent over his head. both right themselves, and while the red-faced man retreats to his seat, the boy tries to refasten the canvas belt that had been cinched around the pudgy backpack.
the numerous zippers were already straining to contain the excess of stuff, so with the belt loosened, the sack exhales gratefully and lets the hoodie in the middle pocket hang out a little. the boy shoves it back in, but this only widens the gap at the top, ejecting an mp3player and tangle of headphones. the poor guy clamps his hand over the opening too late to prevent a heavy book from forcing the zipper wide open. the bright yellow volume lies on the floor just long enough for me to read “Baking for Dummies” before it disappears under his t-shirt.
the uncompliant backpack continues to refuse the property of its exasperated owner, so he finally scoops up all his things in a bulky bear hug. he awkwardly climbs back into his window seat just as an attendant announces “the captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign…”
the nomadic life
each time i embark on a trip that takes me outside the state, whether it be vacation, a mission, or a visit to friends or family, my mother asks me the same question: “are you coming home?” i’m not sure when she started this (mostly) kidding practice. perhaps after i came back from studying abroad with a severe case of the travel bug. or maybe it was during my stint coordinating mission trips when i seemed a little too reluctant to come home from my monthly travel. whatever the case, i’m sure her concern was not without cause. even now that i have a significant reason to return to my home sweet ‘homa, she still teasingly throws the inquiry out there just before i depart on a solo trip.
truthfully, she does know me well. while there are many things i value in oklahoma (namely, family and friends), i can easily see myself living a nomadic lifestyle, soaking up the life, customs, food, language, and culture of a place before moving on to the next. for me, the thrill of a new place is the fact that it’s unfamiliar. each moment throws something unexpected in front of you. this feeling of being a bit off-balance – awkward in communication, unsure in navigation, wary in interaction – is unnerving and frustrating for some, but exciting and energizing for me. once this feeling of being surrounded by unusual or remarkable things passes, i am ready for a different routine.
if i could work out the logistics, my ideal plan would be to live in a different country each year for 10 years. (no way could i envision my life farther ahead than that.) of course there would be extreme flexibility in the actual duration of stay in each location, but in my daydreams, i’ve even begun to build a loose itinerary based around language learning, which is one of the biggest pleasures of travel for the linguist in me. my theory is, if i piggyback the countries that speak the same languages, then i could extend and expand my understanding of that language, while also keeping the environment fresh. but those are entirely too many details for something that is probably not in my future.
every day i strive for contentment despite my wanderlust (i know i have no room to complain about my life), but when i travel my chronic “wanna go somewhere” itch acts up. this long vacation was oh-so-good and oh-so-bad for me at the same time. once again i am grateful for the technology that so vividly brings the world to you.
legacy
- titu philomena & gidu haleem
we all leave one, whether we plan to or not. some are inspiring, some are regrettable; some are long-lasting, while others are fleeting…but eventually all that is left of a person on this earth is the legacy they leave behind. for some this lingering impression is farther-reaching because of fame or fortune or history-changing actions. but for most of us, the influence that lasts beyond our lifetime will extend only to our circle of family, friends, and acquaintances. and that legacy is just as significant.
i firmly believe in the importance of establishing an intentional family vision that includes many generations to come. but sometimes a wonderful heritage builds itself upon an exceptional character, growing stronger with the multiplication of descendants in each successive generation.
my great gidu (grandfather), haleem saddic, left that kind of legacy. his influence was strong enough that his children’s children’s children know what kind of man he was and how he lived his life, and have a strong sense of keeping that memory alive. since my earliest memory i’ve known the heritage of my close-knit extended family…and since gidu had 10 children, there are quite alot of them.
when i wrote my honors thesis on the american character, immigration at the turn of the 20th century, and oral histories, i focused on haleem’s story. i didn’t have to dig much for artifacts of his life. his descendants readily provided treasures like family trees, photos, newspaper articles, census reports, the ship manifest from his trip to the US, homemade maps of the old neighborhood (eight pages detailed), and plentiful nostalgic anecdotes.
my titu (grandmother) and her siblings shared vivid memories, but much of the documentation came from the younger generations, who consider it an important task to keep record of our family history and preserve the saddic legacy. a legacy that has been built on more than where gidu lived or what he did, but also the values and traditions he passed down.
- hamatoura
visiting lebanon has been a lifelong dream for me, particularly the town of kousba, where my great gidu & great titu lived. a sort of pilgrimmage for us both, my cousin colette and i set out to visit the place where our family started. we ventured north from beirut along the mediterranean coastline and then inland, up through the mount lebanon range to the small village of kousba al koura on the qadisha valley. we stayed with our gidu’s nephew (our grandmothers’ cousin) who showed us a wonderful time.
george gave us a complete (very knowledgeable!) tour of the town, seemingly familiar with everyone we passed. with both my great grandfather and great grandmother’s families originating in kousba, a high percentage of the population is a distant relative in some way. george continually introduced the two mystery girls accompanying him as his uncle’s kids’ kids’ kids, often saying, “meet your cousins!”
we saw an amazing monastery built into the side of the cliff called hamatoura. the long, zig zag foot path is the only access. (the photo to the left was taken from across the valley, not from above. that is a steep walk. click on the pic to get a larger view if you can’t see the church)
we also saw an eccentric castle, some roman ruins, ate the best ice cream i’ve ever had, and had a wonderful home-cooked lebanese meal. you can catch a video recap of the whole thing here.
my favorite part was visiting the olive oil factory just down the street from gidu’s old house. it still employs the old method of pressing the oil, and is quite possibly the very same factory that processed the olives from my great-grandfather’s orchard. the workers were so gracious to tolerate our paparazzi-like invasion of their workspace, most likely stunned by our enthusiasm to document the (to them) mundane process. the video below captures it pretty well.
this trip to lebanon has been life-changing for many reasons, but the visit to kousba in particular has got me thinking about the legacy i want to leave with the generations that follow me. i don’t have kids yet (or any impending) so it would be natural to think that lee and i have a little time to prepare ourselves. but much of what my family cherishes about my great gidu’s life, values, culture, and traditions were things that occurred long before he had children of his own.
what kind of legacy do you want to leave for your children’s children’s children? perhaps it’s a continuation of what was passed down to you. what can you do to be intentional about the impression that you leave?
living out of a suitcase at home
recently, my job has taken me on the road quite a bit as i work with a client in my hometown a few hours away. thankfully, i can stay with my parents and enjoy some family time while i am there.
during my ping pong-ing between two homes, my trusty oversized tote stays stocked with all the necessities, ready and waiting on the floor of my closet. when i decide to make an overnight stay, i just relocate an outfit hanging in the closet to the hook in my car, and throw the appropriate accessories in the bag. the drawback to this system is that i invariably leave said accessories in the bag, so my collection is slowly moving from my armoire to the travel tote. combine that with daily needing the use of several toiletries and tools that do not have duplicates dedicated to travel, and i am officially living out of the suitcase consistently, whether at home or away. which equals not really knowing where anything is at a given time.
while this can be a bit annoying, the perpetual home-rotation has made me grateful for several things: grateful that i truly love visiting my parents and their beautiful, peaceful home. thankful for the bonus time with my titu (grandmother) and the fun girls sleepovers we’ve had. appreciative that i have a job that not only allows me the freedom (and reason) to be near my family, but also the flexibility to be at any medical appointment my mom may have. thankful that my husband maintains the perfect balance of independence and “miss-you-much” throughout my sporadic schedule.
i’m trying to be more intentional about having a positive perspective when it comes to aggravating circumstances. it seems like so many of my frustrations are actually borne out of blessings. i allow myself to get irritated instead of viewing the situation for the fortunate advantage it often is. now if i could just be as intentional about unpacking my tote each week…
wanderlust
“not all those who wander are lost.” – j.r.r. tolkien
once again i have learned that there is a name for a syndrome that i bear. this one was actually hiding in the german language, and was delivered straight to my inbox via the dictionary.com word of the day. (a reminder that, yes, i am a total word geek.) this term describes my affliction precisely:
wanderlust – n – a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about; an irresistible impulse to travel.
1902, from German Wanderlust, literally “desire for wandering”
[German : wandern, to wander + Lust, desire (from Old High German; see las- in Indo-European roots).]
WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University
i first came down with the “travel bug” when i studied abroad in the netherlands in my junior year of college. i got it bad. interacting closely with people of so many cultures and visiting virtually every country in western europe inflamed a viral outbreak of must-see-the-world that developed rapidly.
my condition progressed as i continued to participate in the international community at my university back home, and was exposed to more and more unfamiliar customs, traditions, and lifestyles. the symptoms were unmistakable: my usual daydreams were replaced by visions of faraway lands, my life goals were modified, my job search took a new direction, and my activities and interests had a shifted focus.
i became more deeply affected after i took a job organizing mission trips and found myself traveling several times a month, immersed in the culture of mostly latin america, africa, and china. an additional visit to scandinavia and an extended stay in south america proved that my infection is chronic – i have wanderlust.
the urge to wander, through the colorful cultures across our united states and abroad, is always present in me. the fact that the world is now shrinking so swiftly through the growth of the internet, and also the movement of people, is both a blessing and a curse for me. in a sense, having the world at my doorstep (189 nationalities are represented in oklahoma) and at my fingertips (instant news, stunning photos, and descriptive articles online) temporarily satisfies my demanding hunger, but ultimately just whets my appetite for more, for real immersion.
i believe my affinity for traveling is driven by my impulse to try new things. having a curious nature and an obsession with experiencing things first-hand means anything unknown is something i would be intrigued to explore. it may not become a favorite or even hold my attention for much longer, but i feel compelled to know for myself.
robert louis stevenson said it well when he pointed out that “there are no foreign lands, it is the traveler only who is foreign.” oh, how i love to be foreign. if you like to travel, share your favorite destination below.
