The Art of Traveling
Trip Start
Jun 17, 2006
1
18
Trip End
Aug 20, 2006
Tokyo,
Japan
Sunday, August 20, 2006
I'm back in the swing of things. The school year has started once more and the kids are restless. Yet my travelogues do not feel complete without a proper conclusion. So here it is:
Looking back, my earliest childhood memories stem from the classic family summer vacations spent on the road. National Lampoon's with an Asian twist. We still got the crazy cousins. My parents, a trio of brothers, and a Datsun 510 station wagon dressed in classic burgundy was all it took. We'd pack our pillows and blankets along with ice cold sodas and chips leaving the sounds of school bells behind. My dad drove like a Mack truck, mashing through the mean roads of the American highways punching through like any good truck driver would. But, while everyone else fell victim to the soothing vibrations of the road, I'd still be up front watching the lines go by. Sitting, waiting, wishing.
Fast forward twenty years or so and here I am on an expedition once more on a honeymoon with my brother. We went around the world in two months jumping from city to city like humps on a camel, with trains, planes, and deadlines to meet. But it was the quirky surreal encounters that I remember most. Trekking through the Middle East, we ended up traveling to places where tourists just didn't exist. Let alone Chinese ones. Most stares were curious. Some, a little creepy. In the end, we ended up becoming some sort of Penn & Teller magic tour attraction. People gazed at us deeply waiting to see what we'd do next. Of course, I wooed the crowd with my silent Buster Keaton play on words. It was a way to make people laugh without saying a word.
However, most of the stares were directed at my brother. His obvious disability proved to be more appealing than my charming good looks and trademark grin. But on a serious note, I am proud of my brother for what he has accomplished as a traveler and a person. A decade later after a motorcycle accident gone wrong, he continues to just go. He's never stopped, nor will he ever.
Yet traveling with family does have its pitfalls. Dubbed as his live-in "mule," I was in charge of the grunt work. Lugging our bags around airports and train stations, hunting for food on the fly, and surveying the sites for wheelchair accessibility were just a few of my duties. But again, I have to step down, because it was my brother who pushed through. The stairs became mountains to him and the cobblestone roads quickly turned into a chore. Yet everything we did together was for a chance to see a little bit more. I remember our second day in Portugal we pushed up a curvaceously steep road in Sintra for nearly two hours to see a famous Moorish castle. Yet at the top we realized that we could have just took a shuttle bus up there. How foolhardy we were.
Yet I had reached a breaking point of frustration one day, unwilling to deal with the hassles that came with my brother. In Casablanca we were trying to get him on board a train that had a narrow doorway as a crowd of citizens were earnestly boarding. I hurriedly got our luggage on board while some helpful samaritans were trying to assist him on to our cabin. It wasn't easy but somehow we got him through. But when we got on board, the hallway was turned out to be too narrow for his wheelchair to pass. Not wanting to be a burden Tom said that he would just wait in the deck area rather than have me help him onto a seat. The cabin was air-conditioned. The deck area was not. I went inside the cabin by myself and sat down. And for a moment, I cursed my brother's disability. What would have taken just a few seconds to do turned into a timeless amount of effort crippled with humility. These difficulties would occur everywhere we traveled.
But for some reason, I had a realization, an epiphany of some sort. I had realize that the frustration I felt was everything my brother experiences ever day ever since his accident. This understanding came at me unexpectedly. Yet it was something that was needed. I grew patience from that experience and appreciate the understanding it gave to me. It's everything I never thought it would be. This is the art of traveling.
When I look back at those road trips I took with my family I still remember the places and people we met. Life was good and the summers even better. I looked forward to those summers just as much as I do today. Thanks for listening.
Bear Hugs for Everyone,
Paul
