Countdown to takeoff

This time two weeks from now I'll be siting on a Korean Air flight headed to Osaka, Japan via Incheon, South Korea. Perhaps it is the excitement of the trip that is keeping me up at the moment despite my body being quite tired.

My first stop is actually Kyoto, but the nearest international airport is in Osaka. It is actually built on a man-made island in the harbor and having watched a show on the National Geographic Channel several years ago, as well as my somewhat embarrassing fascination with most things aviation related, I am as excited to see it as I am for all the other places I'm planning to visit. But why Kyoto and why pass up seeing Tokyo. The simple answer is that while I'm sure there are interesting and exciting sites to see in Tokyo, the city has never been an attraction for me. Perhaps it is because I live in a large, bustling city so when I travel I like to stray away from similar places. But importantly than why I don't want to see Tokyo is that I've wanted to see Kyoto for a very long time.

Many people might only know of Kyoto as the city where eponymous protocols were adopted as part of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change in 1997. (They entered into force in 2005 and, to this day, the US has refused to become a signatory.) For me, however, I've known of Kyoto as being the former imperial capital of Japan. I've read of the imperial palace, many awe inspiring temples, tranquil bamboo forests, and twisting streets lined with traditional house. As I've been planning my visit, I've also been discovering a rich culinary world awaits me there and can't wait to sample my way through it.

After several days in Kyoto I will spend an evening and most of a day seeing a bit of Osaka before flying to Hanoi, Vietnam - again via Incheon airport. I will have two days in Hanoi before meeting up with a group from Intrepid Travel. This is the same tour company that Karen traveled to Turkey and Morocco with in 2008 and she enjoyed both those trips immensely. The itinerary for my trip, Indochina Adventure, takes me from Hanoi to Vinh, a city about 200 miles to the south. From Vinh we will head west into Laos, visiting the cities of Vientiane, Vang Vieng, and Luang Prabang before boarding a boat for a two day trip down the Mekong River into Thailand. In Thailand we will spend some time in Chiang Mai before hiking into the rural villages of the northern hilltribes for three days. While my organized tour will conclude in Bangkok, I plan to stay in Thailand for about a week longer and then spend some time enjoying the southern islands and taking in some diving.

For the final stop on my trip, I will be returning to Korea for the first time (not including my two layovers) in about 37 years. My family was living there in 1971 when I was born and I spent the first year and a half or so of my life in Seoul. This chubby little kid, unable to properly use the telephone is me at my dol (돌) or first anniversary of birth:



The odd thing is that while I've always felt a connection to Korea - beyond my love of its cuisine, especially kimchi - it is a country I actually know little about beyond the obvious things. I am finding myself reading through the many tour books trying to decide what to see, but worried that I will overlook something that shouldn't be missed. I suppose that is the problem with just visiting places: you never have enough time to see it all.

So that's the thumbnail sketch of my itinerary. According to Great Circle Mapper (one of my favorite websites, which I'll readily admit is also rather nerdy) I will travel nearly 19,000 air miles and fly over the north pole, a first for me. This isn't the longest itinerary I've had (that would be a trip I took as part of an internship in college when I logged nearly 29,000) but I will certainly eat my fair share of in-flight meals. Depending on internet availability, I will try to post updates from the road -- and not just the flights and airports.

As the days tick by leading to my departure my excitement continues to grow. I absolutely love to travel and experience new places, meet new people, and (you guessed it) eat new things. It has been a long time since I've traveled like this and this is a trip I've been wanting to make for a while. It is also, as I mentioned in my last post, one that Karen and I spent many hours talking about doing with James. This is a trip I need to take...this is a trip I'm eager to take...this is a trip I can't wait to take...for so many reasons.

The truth in clichés

"Time heals all wounds." It was a comment made to me many times by friends and family (and strangers) in the days and months following Karen's death. It is not surprising or unexpected for even the most eloquent and well-meaning of people to fall back on such a cliché when confronted with such an unnatural and devastating event. Indeed I'm sure that were I the one struggling to give comfort at a time of unimaginable heartbreak, I too would invariably utter such a sentiment. I think it is a natural crutch on which the mind relies when trying to understand the incomprehensible.

There were times I wanted to shout back my objections when people said this to me. What happened wasn't something that upset me, or put me in a bad mood, or bummed me out. This was utter devastation. How could time heal this wound I thought. How could ANYTHING heal it? But I held back my words. I knew, even then while I was in the closets thing to hell that I have experienced in my lifetime, that no good could come by lashing out at those people who were only trying to express their sympathies in one of the ways that came natural in an unnatural situation.

Now, some sixteen months later, I am in awe at the restorative power that time actually does possess. While not a day - or, at times, an hour - goes by that I don't miss Karen and reflect on what happened, I am able to experience life in a way that was inconceivable in those dark days. Where before I was unable to be in our apartment, I now find myself to enjoy it as the home it was for us and for me now. Streets I couldn't walk on for fear of the bitter memories they evoked, now remind me of the happy times we shared. True there are still a couple places I have not been able to enter and certain songs that I turn off upon hearing the first few chords, but these are far fewer in number than they were. Similarly, instead of avoiding newborns and pregnant women, as was what I did for so long, I now find myself sharing in the joy my many friends are experiencing recently. This does, however, come with a melancholy twinge that I keep to myself and that I'm sure will remain with me forever.

All these changes are palpable and fall in the realm of things I never imagined could happen. So now when I consider the cliché so often said to me (and others suffering similar experiences) I understand its validity but also its incompleteness. Back then, when people uttered those words, what I heard them saying to me was that time will put things back as they were or that the pain will fade as all memories of her slipped further behind me. The first idea being, of course, utterly impossible and the second being scary because I feared the prospect of loosing the happy memories along with the painful ones. Hence, I rankled at such expressions of support and comfort. What I didn't comprehend until recently is that the true, complete comment should be: "Time heals all wounds, but the scars remain forever." The addition of the added portion is important to me because it changes the implication - offensive at times - that time will make you forget as a means of allowing one to go on with their lives to something that embraces what was while allowing for the progression to another phase of life.

And going on to another phase of life, while NEVER forgetting what once was, is what I am doing now. This progression is marked by several changes and decisions I made recently, all of which were made after much contemplation and introspection. The first, as I mentioned in an earlier posting, is that I've left the practice of law. I am still in the process of finding what my new career will be, but the decision has been a positive one already and I have been in investigating a variety of options.

The other big decision is that I am preparing for a trip to Korea, Japan and Southeast Asia. This is a journey that in may ways has been thirty-six years in the making for me and, perhaps more importantly, one that Karen and I intended to undertake with James. I depart on April 10 and will give more details in a future post as well as providing updates periodically (dependant on Internet availability, of course) from the road.

So today I feel as if I have journeyed to hell and back. And while I bear the scars of the experience, I also retain the joyful memories of the life snatched from me, which will guide me as I press forward. I was asked recently whether I would trade the time I had with Karen in order to have avoided the heartache and misery I suffered from her death. I needed no time to think about the answer because just as there is truth in the cliché about time, equally true for me (if not more so) is that it is far better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. With Karen this was absolute and I count myself beyond lucky to have had the time with her I did and to have known the person she was.