Kindness of Strangers

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Today is Thanksgiving, our first major holiday away from home, and truth be told, it’s a little odd. There is no turkey roasting in the oven, no cranberry relish, no visitors, no pies cooling on the counter, no Macy’s Day Parade humming in the background. It just doesn’t feel like Thanksgiving.

We were planning on spending the day with an American friend living near Auckland, but a last-minute clearing of weather meant that Maikael and Tim had a final opportunity to hike the Tongariro Alpine Crossing (better known as Mt. Doom from the Lord of the Rings), and we decided to take a detour and go for it. The Milford Track provided a month’s worth of hiking for me, so I am spending the day back at the hotel, catching up on email, calling my dad, watching DVDs, reading Twilight, and soaking in the spa. “It’s just a regular day,” I’m telling myself, but my mind keeps wandering to thoughts of Thanksgiving. It seems like a good time to pause and put myself in the spirit of the holiday; to give thanks.

During the course of this trip, there are amazing moments, phenomenal people, and sights so beautiful I want to cry. It is easy to feel grateful in these moments. But for every moment of gratitude, there seems to be an experience that causes you to ask yourself, “Why did I go on this trip?” I am always dancing on the thin blade of a double-edged sword, loving and loathing the journey, often in the same breath.

As I’ve said a million time before, traveling around the world is hard work. There are the obvious things that make life difficult like lugging around a 25 pound backpack in 100 degree weather, riding on jangling overnight buses, getting sick, and finding yourself constantly in the process of making plans. All of it is exhausting, but what takes a bigger toll is the emotional wringer, the messed-up mind games that this kind of extended travel plays on you. This trip is one big mirror that has reflected the worst of my personality. The pace we’re keeping has led to short fuses and the inevitable bickering that follows. I’ve threatened to go home more times than I’d care to count. I’ve been known to declare multiple times a day, “I’m not cut out for this. I’m not a traveler.”

But this is the gift of this trip. I am thankful for the opportunity to genuinely face myself, to see myself for who I am, even if I don’t always like what I see. It is through these experiences, through the journey itself, that I am growing. (What I’ve learned about myself in four months would have taken me countless years and thousands of dollars in therapy to reveal!) The gift of time is precious, and I am thankful to have the chance to take a break from my everyday life and reevaluate my place in this crazy world. If I can stop fighting myself and see the opportunities for transformation that this trip presents, I’ll be the better for it.

I am thankful for ALL of our friends and family back home, who have followed our journey with interest and curiosity, and who I am excited to reconnect with in March. I am especially thankful to Mark Monda, who keeps our household running in our absence, and Tim Eriksson, who not only took the time the time to meet us in New Zealand, but keeps our website running from abroad (and is schlepping a bunch of crap home for us). And I am thankful to all the new friends I’ve made while traveling, whose different perspectives are helping to shape the person I am growing into.

Most of all, I am thankful for my husband, Maikael. Even though we sometimes irritate each other to no end and engage in our fair share of bickering, I can’t imagine doing this trip with anyone else. He calmly steps in when I’ve reached the end of my tether and does what needs doing. He encourages me daily to keep going with this trip, and is my greatest supporter. Whatever changes may come as a result of this trip, I know he’ll encourage me to be the best person I can be. And even though it’s sometimes hard to see, I think we’ll emerge from this experience stronger than we went into it.

So while there won’t be any pumpkin pie this year, know that I am in New Zealand, sitting in the shadow of Mt. Doom, feeling incredibly grateful to be here.