Don't be misled here, I have traveled before, but make no mistake: I was never traveling on a trust fund. I traveled to Israel on a full academic scholarship the first time, and to Northern Ireland on student loans I have yet to pay off more than a decade later. I worked my way around the world. When I couldn't find a job at home, I worked overseas instead (and as a consequence my Canadian pension funds are virtually nil, as I wasn't even living here to be contributing through much of my 20s). I was a cocktail waitress at 15 in Estoril, Portugal, a coffee shop waitress, and bartender at a United Nations Base (that was a great job) in Israel. I taught sociology at university in Belfast, I worked on 3 different kibbutzim, and then there was that year I spent in the Israeli army...I paid my own way. It seemed possible to move anywhere in the world with just $500 in your pocket.
But I was young and single then. Now I am a mom, and the proud owner of a mortgage, and worse yet, my husband has a day job. This does make it much harder to get away, I have been waiting not-so-patiently for years now. Excepting a fairly awful Florida vacation of less than a week last January, and 1 trip so Naomi could meet her grandmother in Ireland when she was 4 months old, I have barely moved beyond a 100-mile radius since 2002. They aren't kiddding when they tell you everything changes after you have a baby, even though Michael and I never planned for it to be the end of our traveling. Still, he seems more settled than I am, and more attached.
But he also longs for Nepal. We have been having some hard years, and are sharing a mini-mid-life-crisis. Maybe not so mini. I was so sick after Naomi was born with constant migraines and more, it took years and daily fist-fulls of heavy-duty medications to get me back to functional. I still rely on about half a dozen types of pills every day, for three separate medical problems- and I'm only 36! What the hell?! I was still doing yoga in my 8th month of pregnancy, even as I approached 180 lbs, and I could still do tree pose without falling over. Now I'm winded by 2 flights of stairs, due to one of the drugs I take. Saddest of all, Naomi remains an only child because of the meds. We would love nothing more than to have more children, and we talk about adoption, but my veins and womb are polluted with pharmaceuticals, as I get closer and closer to 40.
And Michael has his own problems. He is plagued by headaches, insomnia and stress. He is so overworked, putting in overtime nearly every day, on top of a 2-hour commute, which is now a 2-hour+ thrill ride on snowy and icy roads. I don't know how they get away with advertising those cars with winter tires speeding madly without fishtailing in whiteout blizzards- our new snow tires don't seem to slip any less than the old all-seasons. And between his schedule and mine, we have problems. For years Michael and I ran a home-based business, we spent virtually all our time together for the first 7 years of our relationship. Once he went to work, somehow we started to argue more. Call it an adjustment period. We've been together nearly 12 years and still call each other on the phone 2-3 times a day if he's at work, and say I love you every time (nauseatingly cute, I know). But it has become a lot harder to be a couple since we became a family sometimes. We never used to fight at all, unless it was over something stupid, like definitions of words, or historical events...we're both terrible bookworms. Our house is littered in books and magazines on dozens of subjects, as is the car.
In "Chasing the Monsoon" Alexander Frater mentions The Monsoon Cure, or the Kerala Cure people go to India for during the monsoon season. I think that is part of what we are looking for. We need some healing, physically and mentally, separately, and as a couple. The only thing we don't need to work on is being Naomi's parents. She is absolutely adored. She is what gets us through the hard days (and the easy ones). Her smile is infectious, and she's always full of giggles and smiles.
Nepal represents hope for us. A much needed break, not a vacation, just a change of scenery, a new window on the world. We've been together too long to call it a second honeymoon, some days it seems we're closer to needing marriage counselling. Not because we don't love each other, we do, very much. Just because life keeps getting more and more complicated, and harder to hold together.
If you're in your 30s, or older, are you happy with where you landed? Is this what you dreamed of? Is this what you planned to do with your life? I planned to be somewhere like Nepal, lending a hand, not here in the snow, struggling to pay the bills. Somewhere where life is meaured in more simple terms, not by the latest cellphone style, ipod, or new car. I'm quite sure I'll never own a new car. I hate to think of Naomi growing up wanting these things, and perhaps not caring about more substantive issues. Poverty like what exists in Nepal may be ugly, but it isn't that complicated (until you start analysing the world-wide imbalance of trade, transnational corporations, Western economic domination...let's not go there right now).
How do you measure wealth? We have a house and a car and a computer and a colour tv (and cable, thank god for cable, I admit I do love my digital cable), all things I did not have as a child. But I do not have an extended family, a relationship with my neighbours, or a vast social network. What would you rather have? What would you rather your children have? I always hoped I could grow up and live on a tropical island somewhere where life was simpler. You know, playing catch with coconuts on the beach instead of comparing the latest fashions in the schoolyard...maybe it doesn't exist, but this 24-hour, drive-thru, pop-culture civilization lite we find ourselves in just doesn't make me feel at home. This time of year especially the brutal, in-you-face materialism of the holidays pushes me over the edge. I will not buy Disney products or Bratz dolls. When Naomi gets Barbie merchandise as gifts, I give them away to charity. I hate branding. I have never set foot inside the Gap except to apply for a job - which I didn't get. I shop at yard sales and second-hand stores, if I shop at all. I make things like scarves and sock monkeys as gifts.
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