Leaving isn’t easy, but not for the reasons you might think – or, why I cried in the airport.

     Oddly enough, I didn’t cry when I  left our home or my long-time job or when I said goodbye to my kids or my parents. I cried only once, and it was at the airport, and I cried about how much we had to pay for extra and overweight luggage. I rarely cry, and never in public if I can help it, but the tears just rolled. I was certainly frustrated and pained by the amount of money, but I suppose it was not so surprising that something would put me over the edge on the day we were really leaving.

     It’s not as if I didn’t try to find out what the baggage charges would be. Asiana Airlines doesn’t list them on their website, and my two attempts to call and ask just led me into a voicemail labyrinth from which I could find no escape – and no live person to talk to. It was also frustrating because while PDX staff kept insisting that certain things were “TSA rules,” they had never been mentioned or enforced on our way from BTV – PDX or on any other flight I’ve ever been on. In fact, I gloated a little in an earlier post about how I could actually board a JetBlue flight with five carry-on items, but in Portland everyone seemed terrified to bend the “TSA rule” that allegedly limits everyone to two carry-ons only, no exceptions. And sometimes people in positions of small power like to wield that power unpleasantly. Let’s just say I left PDX with a lighter wallet and a heavy dose of frustration, and we ended up with five checked bags rather than four.

     Our time in the Seattle airport, on the other hand, was easy and time passed very quickly as we met up with my cousin Julien for coffee. I hadn’t seen Julien in more than 30 years, so we had some serious catching up to do, and I was delighted that he would take the time to come all the way to the airport to see us. An hour slipped away before we knew it, but that still left us plenty of time to get through security easily (even with our abundance of carry-on items) and then get to our gate an hour before take-off. Of course, someone had managed to reassign us seats that were in different rows, but we easily found someone on the plane willing to make a switch so we could sit together. And the Asiana Airline flight attendants are the most charming and pleasant I’ve seen in a long time – or maybe that’s just relative to the unsmiling faces we dealt with all day before boarding.

A cousin reunion at Starbucks in the SEA airport -
see any resemblance?

    Our flights to Seoul and then on to Phnom Penh passed as flights usually do - I watched a movie or two, dozed, ate mediocre airline food, and tried to stay hydrated.We landed in Phnom Penh around 11 pm and got through the gauntlet of visa applications, passport control, baggage claim and customs. I was pleased that all our bags were already waiting for us at the baggage carousel, and even more pleased to see Rethy and Mr Hang waiting for us with the van to bring us to our hotel. (I love the awkward greetings with Khmer male friends - they approach us smiling, hands out for shaking, and then continue to move in closer for the obligatory American-style hug, which they tolerate passively with arms limp at their sides.) Our hotel was perfectly lovely, though apparently no one got the memo with our reservation which requested a ground-floor room to avoid dragging our luggage any further than necessary, so we schlepped it all up two flights of stairs. Then we practically raced each other for long-overdue showers. What a surprise when I opened one of our bags to get my shampoo and discovered granola bars that I hadn't packed...and diapers! This certainly was not our bag! Thanks to the luggage tag that included the owner's email address, by 2:00 am we had made contact with the family who had grabbed our identical bag by mistake, and made a plan to swap the bags the next morning.

     We spent Friday morning visiting the National Museum with our Khmer entourage: the family had taken advantage of the opportunity to come to Phnom Penh to pick us up, so Rethy, Mr Hang and his wife and 2-year-old son, Dara and his wife Areni and their 5-year-old daughter Yaya, Dara's sister Srei, Dara and Srei's 5-year-old niece Alice, and Dara's mom all had come to town, so the van ride back to Siem Reap was cozy. We were here at the guest house by 5:30, happy to be done with traveling and especially happy to see Jaz and the rest of the family.

     We're finally here! It feels so familiar, as if I haven't been away very long at all. Now it's time for a good night's sleep before we start our search for a place to live.

Coming soon: baggage blues, luggage laments, carry-on crises

We're here! Safe and sound in Phnom Penh, and we'll be in Siem Reap by this evening. And an hour so from now, we should have all our own luggage in our possession again, which will be nice. More details to come...

Oh yeah - we were smiling, but only because we had no idea what was to come!

PDX oddities and last-minute observations

Why do they name their ice cream flavors after disgraced East Coast politicians?
What's next - Elliot Spitzer Crisp?

Two of my supermarket pet peeves addressed on one sign. Perfect.

Hanging out in Portland

     Our stopover in Portland has been great fun - we've had nice weather, good food, long walks, and time to just hang out with the kids. I'll let the photos tell more of the story.

Saturday Farmers' Market; we had a feast..

Someone did a nice job choosing that tablecloth.

Tamale!

Eating - and probably talking about food.

Blackberries taste like my childhood.

From the Farmers' Market to the Saturday Market...

The Willamette River runs through the middle of town,
and there's a great riverfront walkway.

I spent several happy hours in here, even though I couldn't buy a thing.
(OK, so I bought a copy of Utne Reader to read on the next plane ride.)

There are plenty of vegans, music, and dogs in this town.

Alberta Street Fair - wheel of fortune!
If you were lucky, you could win a free haircut...though we're not sure what her outfit has to do with it.

This kid was having a ball playing along with his toy piano.
(There is no shortage of kids in Portland.)

Waiting for pizza and cannoli.
It was worth the wait.

Wine country on a hazy afternoon. The scenery was beautiful, and the wines were tasty.

Portland is like Burlington on steroids.

     I catch a lot of flak in this family for not having come to Portland more often over the last several years. It was certainly not because I wasn't interested, and I'm very glad to be here now. It's great to spend time with the kids on what is now their home turf, and it's a wonderful city for walking and people-watching, which are some of my favorite things.

     It's also a great city for eating and drinking, and the conversation among members of this family rarely strays from the topic of food. (It presents a challenge when I'm trying so hard to focus my attention on anything other than food, but I'm working on it.)

     A lot happens in Portland. Festivals, concerts, events of all kinds:

      There are a wide variety of shops and boutiques:

     Things are very well-labeled, so you know what areas to avoid:

     And best of all, the kids are here!

    

Literally On The Road Again

     We are truly and literally on the road again, hanging out in Portland (Oregon) with Marissa and Skyler and Sky’s girlfriend Jenny. Skyler and Jenny have given up their incredibly comfortable bed for us  –  we feel so pampered and comfortable! The forecast is for beautiful sunny weather, and we have five days to wander Portland and hang out with the kids. How delightful.

     The last day at home was not nearly as delightful as I would have liked. We anticipated that our 5 pm flight meant we could putter around the house for a few hours in the morning, finishing our packing, and then relax for part of the afternoon before hitting the road. We didn’t anticipate how many last-minute things there were to do and how unsettling the pre-trip anxiety can be. I think that an afternoon departure just gives more time for that generalized anxiety and butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling to gain momentum, and it did.

     Luckily, and consistent with all my previous experiences, the anxiety began to evaporate even as we drove out of Jericho. The closer we got to the airport, the more relaxed I felt. The only worry by the time we arrived at BTV was the ridiculous amount of luggage we were dragging and the potential fees they would incur. (Apparently, our procedure for weighing our suitcases on the bathroom scale at home was not as accurate as we had hoped – ouch.)

     And when will I ever learn to remember to empty my water bottle before I go through security at the airport??? Between that and the crazy amount of stuff that raised their eyebrows when it showed up on the X-ray (“What? No, I’m not carrying an airgun or butane torch….Oh - that’s an otoscope!”), we were glad to have arrived in plenty of time and sorry to have delayed everyone in line behind us. I was also genuinely sorry that I wasn’t wearing a sign taped to my back that said, “Hey  –  I don’t usually have this much luggage, but we’re moving to Cambodia, for crying out loud!” And despite what they say about being allowed two carry-ons, I managed to board the plane with five, so my faith in the flexibility of some rules has been restored.

     So here we are, neither here nor there, but anticipating a few lovely days in between.

     

There is no time like the present.

     This is a unique and delightful time period in my life, and there will likely never be another like it. The number of transitions and internal/external processes involved in this move are kind of mind-boggling, in a completely enjoyable way. Have I mentioned yet how damn happy I am right now? As I shed old concerns and responsibilities, I feel like I can access long-forgotten parts of my brain or my "self" or whatever you want to call it, which is an unexpected and welcome effect. From the perspective of a narcissistic Westerner who clearly enjoys self-absorbed reflection and egocentric introspection, these are fun times indeed. (Truly, I promise to stop writing about myself soon and get to other topics. But probably not today.)

     Add to that the endless socializing we've been doing, and this is really a time like no other. We've been out for breakfast, lunch and dinner with multiple friends and combinations of friends. We've been to parties, we've been to the movies, we've been to Roller Derby, we've been to the Adirondacks, we've been to Manhattan, we've been to Montreal. We've had bonfires in Huntington, bocce games and cookouts in Rutland, and brunch in Charlotte. We've been to the Daily Planet, Single Pebble, Nectar's, Trattoria Delia, The Village Cup, Duende, The Farmhouse Tap & Grill, Leunig's, Halvorson's, The Cider House, and Tiny Thai - and many times other people generously insisted on picking up the tab. We've eaten out more in the last three weeks than we have in the last two years, without a doubt. And on Thursday we'll be headed to Portland for a few days, which will no doubt involve more food...

     Really, have I mentioned often enough how fully and completely I am enjoying this time period??? Besides all the interesting sorting and packing, between all the restaurant meals and drinks with friends, I have time every day to sit and read and write. (You should all take a moment to appreciate the fact that I don't blog most of what I write!) I can read Seven Days from cover to cover every Wednesday while the ink is still fresh. Steve and I wake up in the morning feeling rested and excited to start our day.

      It seems completely unfair that any one person should be this happy. The only dent in this happiness is the guilt I feel for being this happy. I suppose all I can do about that is continue to try not to take one bit of it for granted and think about how I can use the energy it gives me to do some good.

      It should be interesting (to me, at least) to see what it eventually looks like to "do some good."