I left Buenos Aires headed to Baltimore via Toronto.  My parents were picking me up in Baltimore. When one buys an airline ticket with points the layover could be just about anywhere.  The Toronto airport was a tad confusing because I went through US Customs there instead of when I arrived in the States. Apparently the US has agreements with certain countries to do customs before even arriving in America?  Going through US customs is always interesting. . . Going through US customs at 6am after a 15 hour overnight flight and not yet being in the US is downright wacky. I always feel like I am being asked trick questions and I am thisclose to staring in my very own episode of Locked Up Abroad.

US Customs Agent: Hello.
Me: Good morning.
UCA: Why were you in Argentina?
Me: Traveling.
UCA: Why are you in Canada?
Me: Ummm because my layover is here?
UCA: Why are you going to Baltimore?
Me: Ehh because my parents are picking me up there?
UCA: Where are you going from my Baltimore?
Me: Pennsylvania.
UCA: Why?
Me: The holidays?
UCA: Where in Pennsylvania?
Me: Hershey?
UCA: Welcome to the United States (while we are both standing in the Toronto airport.)
Me: Thanks. . .

My parents did, indeed. pick me up in Baltimore and we headed to PA.  I loved being home.  It gave me such an amazing perspective for this trip.  When I left in September, I had brought a bunch of clothing and things back from California to store at my parents house.  As I was packing for my trip, I thought about how I really didn’t like any of the things I had brought with me.  Nothing was particularly wrong with anything, I just wanted things that were newer, better, bigger etc.  And yet, when I walked into my room at my parents home and opened the closet where I had stored my things it was like opening Pandora’s Box.

I have so much stuff!!
It’s all clean!!
I can do laundry whenever I want!!
Look at this huge bottle of shampoo!!
This is unbelievable!!

Wearing the same clothing and have mini packets of supplies for 3 months straight will REALLY make you think twice about the things you own.  Once that initial This is so great!! wore off, I was back to being ‘so-so’ again about all my things.  Why does my brain do this to me?  I’m sure others feel this way too.  There is the initial thrill of having something new only for it wear off days, weeks, months later.  A momentary high (I love my new car!!) before it fades into background noise of financial responsibility ($49.95 for an oil change?  That is ridiculous!)

For the next year, all the “stuff” I own fits into a little suitcase and backpack.  Does it drive me insane at times not to have all my stuff? Yes.  But I also get a sense of freedom from not being tied down to the ‘stuff’.’  The car, the house, the clothing. It gives me time to reflect.  I have what I have and I am comfortable with what I have.  I don’t feel the pressure to have the nicest clothing, makeup, hair because I have no other choice.  During this next year, my money is being spent on buying an experience.  Right now that is more important than all the ‘stuff’ I could collect along the way.

If you ask me what I did at home on the East Coast for a month, I wouldn’t have a riveting answer for you.  And yet, I loved every second of it.  I visited friends, spent time with my family, cooked with my mom, went to a college reunion, joined a pickleball league with my dad (if you don’t know what this game is-google it.  So much fun.  Especially when playing with mostly retired people who have had some sort of knee, hip, rotator cuff replacement surgery. Did I take it any easier on these folks?  Heck no. They were fierce competitors!) played with my nieces/nephews, watched Julia graduate with her masters as a Physician Assistant, and all in all spent quality time with the people I love.  It was such a treat to be with my family.  They are so supportive of me through this whole endeavor.

My parents, of course, are too good to me but my siblings are as well.  Being one of five kids is such a complex dynamic. I am so thankful for my siblings.  We are all so different but alike at the same time.  Each one of them has helped me this year more than they know. Their roles are as follows:

Aaron: The Problem Solver. My oldest brother is the guy who can figure things out.  He is the one I email/Skype/message if something is broken or malfunctioning. He’s the one I called when I deleted the wifi capabilities off my laptop (don’t ask me how) and had no idea how re-install it.  He’s the go-to guy when things go awry. He’s the one that answers an email in 5 minutes when I say “A little help needed please!”

John: The Motivator.  John is the one who says: “Keep blogging!  That was funny/interesting/good stuff.” John is the guy who infamously said “What are you going to win a Pulitzer for your blog.  Just start already.” He sends me regular emails saying “Hi. Where are you?  Fill us in! Stop ignoring your family!”

Matthew: The Consoler. Matt is the one who is assuring me on a regular basis.  “No, you don’t have Ebola. I think it’s food poisoning.” “No I don’t think you should buy a house, I think you should travel.” “No I don’t think you are crazy.  I think you are crazy not to do it.” Matt will spend an hour on the phone with me talking about everything from life decisions to communicable diseases.

Julia: The Do It Already-er.  Julia is the one telling me to do things NOW.  When deciding to move to California 7 years ago, she and I were on a walk and I said “I don’t know. . . I think I may do it next year.”  She responded with “If you are going to do it, I think you should do it now.” This past February, I called her and we were talking about the possibility of me taking the year off work this year to travel. I said to her “I don’t know.  I think I may do it next year.”  Julia responded with “What is going to be different next year?  If you are going to do it, do it now.”  So I did.

I’m not exactly sure what role I fill for my siblings.  Hopefully, it is something as beneficial as what they provide me!

Home was wonderful and it was -oh so- difficult to get back on the road.

Before leaving on my trip, I had a couple of friends (jokingly and not) say to me, “You should tell people you are from Canada.”

WHAT?!
Why would I do that?  I want people to meet me, like me, then think ‘You know . . .those Americans really are pretty great.’

I have to say, this is fairly true!  When first meeting people, the question I get asked most is  “Where are you from.”  It can be a bit abrupt at times!  “Hello! Where are you from?”  My response changes depending on my mood.  It can be anything from “United States. Pennsylvania. Philadelphia. Hershey. California. San Diego.”

Without fail, if my answer is California there is a starry look that comes to a person’s eye.  What is it about California? I think it’s a couple of reasons. First- people are able to immediately identify it on the map. Second, there is a certain appeal that comes with the state.  Hollywood!  Glitz! Celebrities! Glamour!

Another thing that apparently comes to people’s mind (usually my cab drivers!) is a famous celebrity turned governor.  A typical interaction goes something like this:

Cab driver:  Hi.  Where are you from?
Me: Hey there.  California.
Cab driver: Ohhh California.  Arnold Schwarzenegger!! (said in the exact voice you are thinking right now and typically accompanied by a flexing of muscles.)
Me: Uhhh yeah. . .Arnold Schwarzenegger.  *awkward smile*

This whole thing took me so off guard the first couple of times it happened,  but honestly it became a weekly occurrence.  To the point where the interaction was more like:

Cab driver: Hi. Where are you from?
Me: Hey there. California.
Cab Driver: Ohhh California.
Me: 3. . 2. . 1. .
Cab Driver: Arnold Schwarzenegger
Me: Yup. Exactly. Arnold Schwarzenegger.

So that’s it.  People really do love Americans.  Trust me they do!  We are generally a friendly, smiley group.  We are great tippers (and this is not common place in many other countries.) AND, for the love of all that’s good,  we have Arnold Schwarzenegger.

I was in Spanish-speaking countries for nearly all of my first 3 months abroad.  Spain, Chile, Argentina.  Although I have had nearly 4 years of formal Spanish classes and have lived in San Diego for 7 years (bordering Tijuana,) nothing truly bridges the gap like being put in a situation where you are  forced to use another language to communicate.  My Spanish has significantly improved but I still have so far to go.

There is an interesting mindset in my family, among my siblings and myself, that we are horrible at second languages.  Each one of us has convinced ourselves that we just can’t learn a foreign tongue.  If these first three months taught me anything, it was that I can indeed learn another language.

In all my practicing, I found taxi drivers to be my niche audience for speaking Spanish.  They weren’t going anywhere.  I wasn’t going anywhere. It was perfect.  Plus most cab drives are like mini tour guides. They were proud of their city and were more than willing to rattle on and on, while I intently translated in the backseat. They typically had questions for me too:  Where was I from? Why am I traveling? What was my favorite part of the country?  This gave me ample opportunity to practice speaking in a low pressure environment.

One of the best pieces of advice I received from a friend in regards to learning Spanish was “Take it slow and use the words you know.”  AKA: don’t let myself get hung up on the fact that I may not have the exact vocabulary I need in any given moment.  This is exactly what I did. I used the words I knew even if I sounded like a complete fool. I made many mistakes.  At times totally cringe worthy mistakes.

One day, I was on a tour where we were wearing these heavy waterproof suits.  After putting mine on I yelled “Yo estoy caliente!! Yo estoy caliente!!”  I kept saying this until a kind woman informed me that the correct usage would be “Yo tengo calor.” By using ‘caliente’ I was essentially screaming “I’m so hot! I’m so sexy!”

Yikes.

Another point, I couldn’t think of the word to use for “to go” or “take away.” My friends and I were taking food back to the hotel for our friend who stayed behind. I knew the phrase was ‘para llavar’ but for whatever reason the waiter couldn’t understand what I was trying to convey.  Finally, I said to him in Spanish ‘My friend here would like to eat one hamburger in your restaurant and one hamburger in her house.”  ‘Ohhh para llavar!” the waiter exclaim.  YES!  PARA LLAVAR! It was probably the most round about way to get my message across but ultimately it worked and that’s all that really matters.

The last time that really stands out was when I was chatting with the front desk staff at a hotel. The word for ‘a drink’ is tomar, the word ‘to drink’ is beber and the word ‘to touch’ is tocar.  After a long bus ride one day I was checking into my hotel and asked the man “puedo tocar el agua en mi habitacion?”- “can I touch the water in my room?” I obviously meant “can I drink the water in my room?” I was thinking ‘tomar’ instead of ‘beber’ but said ‘tocar.’ He looked at me confused and said “Uhhh si. . .”  It wasn’t until I was up in my room that I realized my error and what I had said!

The whole experience has made me sympathize with the students I worked with on a daily basis (well, when I am working on a daily basis and not taking a year’s sabbatical.) These students have language problems for various reasons.  As a speech language pathologist I feel like I have a fairly solid grasp on the English language. I can say what I want to say when I want to say it.  To be put in situations where it is difficult to communicate can be so frustrating.

Instead of getting totally frustrated, I checked my ego at the door and talked away.