Summer life in the small, country towns of Springfield, TN and Eddyville, KY. Town squares, barber shops, and one show theaters. Rolling hills, tractors, and fields of grain, soybean, corn and tobacco. The beautiful expanse of the bright blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. The blue birds fluttering through my grandmother’s flower garden. The smell of horses and hay. The echo of aluminum bats at the baseball diamond. The geese floating lazily on the rippling ponds. The 4th of July fireworks reflecting off the lake. The smell of leather in the tack room and grease in the shop. The taste of a home grown tomato. Or a hotdog at the ballpark. The long days that leave you swinging on the back porch with a glass of iced tea.
From my personal experience and from conversations I have had with others who have lived abroad, returning home is a mix of emotions. I believe this to be true. Coming home is something you have to learn to do. This is my third time to come home from abroad; I’m still a work in progress. My stories, my pictures, my memories tend to be lost in the great ocean of wonders that are Papua New Guinea. You see, when explaining the wonderful mysteries of ‘the land of the unexpected’ my own story within them seem to vanish.
While eating lunch with my family at a bustling meat-n-three in town, a man commented on the hand woven baskets I had brought home as gifts. My Aunt Julie explained the baskets were from a village along the Sepik River in Papua New Guinea. Nevertheless, this man was certain the baskets were American Indian artifacts because he had seen them while watching an episode of Chuck Norris.
Most times I felt right at home again. As if nothing had changed. To quote Alabama (the band, not the entire State), I was “born country and that’s what I’ll always be.” I was “raised up down home” chasing cows and playin’ in the dirt. Where it’s a sin to not sing every word of Dixieland Delight and Rocky Top. Where best friends know you better than you know yourself and family roots stretch further and wider than the Mississippi. And I hope its okay to share here on my public blog that our family tree is growing- horizontally, not vertically as some may say of us country folks! My brother Houston and sister-in-law Becky announced they are expecting their first child. The Ramsey family’s first grandchild. I am so thankful I was able to share their happiness!
There were other times when I felt like an alien from Mars. Or if you are from the South you would say, there were times when I looked like a deer in headlights. I was completely overwhelmed by traffic, Wal-mart, and menus. Just to name a few instances of over stimulation. It’s not that I have forgotten how to drive or that you can get your tires changed, eyes checked and pick up dog food, light bulbs and milk at a one-stop mega-mart. It’s when these are once a year occurrences that the ‘rat race’ can be a bit overwhelming. Do we really need 15 combo meal options? And don’t dare to ask anyone to hand over their blackberry. When I couldn’t find a payphone and asked a man if I could make a call, he turned and walked away from me like I had the plague. Guess it’s unheard of to not have a mobile in America in 2009.
It’s hard not to notice that America is wasteful and indulgent. We are the biggest consumers and the largest polluters. Each time I see clean, clear water running without a purpose, first I think of all the men, woman and children I have seen drinking, bathing and washing from rivers or various stagnant water sources. Then I think, You wouldn’t be letting all that water go to waste if you had to walk 2km to the well, pump it into a jerry can and carry it the 2kms back on your head.
Living in poverty brings a reality to the distinction between wants and needs. There were specific things I needed while back in the ‘land of plenty.’ Glasses, contacts, a visit to the dental hygienist. But being the American girl that I am, I couldn’t leave home without giving into a few of my favorite American indulgences! Coffee shops, bookstores, live music venues, breweries, key lime pie, pedicures, cream cheese….oh and walking through the streets at night!
Family, friends and key lime pie…these are the reasons I come home. “It’s my life, oh so right, my Dixieland delight!”
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
A Long Way Home
0500: Madang Lodge pick up and drop off.
0600-0700 Air Niugini flight Madang to Port Moresby
Layover in Moresby 9 ½ hours at Airways Hotel
1630 Air Niugini flight POM to Hong Kong 8 hours
What Air Niugini lacks in food they make up for in free drinks!
After 22 hours of flights and departure lounges I arrived in Hong Kong. Flying in over the city lights and high rise buildings was an incredible sight. Hong Kong was an interesting stop over. Customs had a very strict health check. Officers wearing surgical masks and gloves stood at the customs gate ready to check our temperature. In addition to the usual custom claims forms, it was required to complete health forms declaring you hadn’t been in contact with anyone who had the swine flu, you didn’t have a sore throat, fever, or that you were not feeling sick in any way. It was intense. At check point #2 I realized I left my neck pillow at checkpoint #1. Yep, I had to head to the back of the line and look forward to another temp check! And on top of that my luggage was no where to be seen on the conveyer belt. The customer rep said not to worry; it would be in Norhtwest’s storage and to just check-in with them in the morning.
The departure lounge was filled with people whose blank gazes never left the television screens…Michael Jackson’s death truly impacted the entire world. I had a lot of time to catch up on the news of the King of Pop. Over 10 hours at the Hong Kong airport. I was starting to feel like Tom Hanks in the movie Terminal. I was hungry for a new book, magazines filled with the world’s current events and of course American fast food. After a few quick emails home and a status update on Facebook, I found a row of empty seats and tried my best to sleep.
The next morning after more Real Life: Hong Kong Terminal, I arrived at the check-in counter in hopes to find my bag. I was not surprised to discover that Air Niugini had lost my bag somewhere between Port Moresby and Hong Kong. Too long in a Country of inefficiencies will do that to you I guess. Flipping Hell! All my PNG artifacts! Lost. Not in the “system,” not in the basement, not found by Niugini's partner carrier in Hong Kong (since there is no office for Air Niugini in Hong Kong). After I involved all reps with Northwest in an effort to get it back I began to realize my bag was gone. Responsibility of Air Niugini-in other wards I’ll never see it again. It basically came to the point where the NWA supervisor told me that the gates were closing and if I wanted to check in I needed to do it immediately and without my baggage. Absolutely not! There was no way I was leaving this side of the world without my bag. I didn’t ride 4 days in a boat up the Sepik River to have all my artifacts lost by a stupid airline. I stomped my loud American foot and insisted for the reps to continue looking in storage. Tears. At that moment I realized how upset I was over material possessions, I remembered one of my favorite quotes from Buddha “Attachment is the source of all suffering,” I checked in without my bag and walked to the gate with my head hung low. I tried my best not to think about all the hand carvings, the baskets, the paintings, the jewelry, the coffee… I wasn’t going to think about how I sat on the edge of a boat, before sunrise, in the pouring rain, with artifacts shoved inside my poncho to only have them so carelessly lost.
When going through yet another security check point, I had forgotten to remove my duty free from my carry on bag. I was already late and I knew this breach of security was going to take some time. I hoped I wouldn’t miss my flight on top of losing my bag. The officer suggested I return to check-in and put my South Pacific beer in my checked luggage. Ha! That’s really funny! The counter was closed and that’s beside the point, I no longer had any check-in luggage! I was forced to watch him throw my last souvenir in the trash. I forced myself to focus on the positives of seeing my family and getting out of that terminal. I hurried to the gate. I was completely flustered by this point. I handed the attendant my passport and boarding pass with the hopes of a stiff drink aboard. “Ms. Ramsey?” the soft spoken attendant asked. “We have found your bag.” WTF! I knew it! It was one of those 'told you so' moments....I told them they had it and they just needed to look harder! I was so elated that my positive energies blocked out all the questions of how and where. The attendant assured me that NWA would check my bag all the way through the 4 hour flight to Tokyo, the 11 flight from Tokyo to Detroit and the other 2 hour flight to Nashville. And yes, to my added pleasure NWA served bottomless bottles of wine! Karma!
0830-1230 NWA/Delta flight Hong Kong to Tokyo 4 hours
Skyscraper madness, cut price electronics, computers and photography equipment. Young girls with dyed ginger hair, short skirts, Prada bags and glasses bigger than they are, all carrying cell phones that make US versions look like relics. A giant-modern day metropolis that screams, “We are not afraid of progress.” They have style with sass. Refinement witih flair. Pulsating with urban adventure. A dynamism between the old and the new.
11 hour flight NWA Tokyo to Detroit
I have lost all concept of day/time by crossing the International Date Line. US Customs and Border Protection Declaration form asks: What countries have you visited on this trip prior to US arrival? PNG, Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, China. And it’s only been 6 months since my last US arrival. A security breech leaves us all standing in US customs. Alarms sounding. Officers shouting orders. No flights outgoing. Airport on lockdown. Welcome to the United States of America! An hour later I am running to my gate….again… My last flight. I cannot stand another moment in an airport departure lounge.
2 Hour flight Detroit to Nashville
I finally made it home. Back to the Big Easy. Back to where I look just like everyone else and no one bothers to find out any different. Surely I am not the same person who left 6 months ago. Surely I have transformed so completely that I should walk into an unrecognizable light. But instead I found comfort in the familiar. The emerging solo artist strumming his Gibson guitar. The slow southern accents, the big 4 wheel drive trucks, the dark denim jeans slouched over cowboy boots. The song of the south.
There’s no place like Home. We immediately emptied my bag and the distinct PNG aroma filled the room. All my artifacts made it alive and well through all custom checks. Despite all the turmoil with my bag, only two pukpuk (crocodile) carvings lost the tips of their tails. Nothing a little wood glue can’t solve. My parents marveled over the Sepik artifacts as I told stories and explained PNG culture.
Freshly showered and wearing some of my favorite clothes from my closet, we headed straight to the Mexican restaurant and drank margaritas! A long way home, but well worth the journey!
0600-0700 Air Niugini flight Madang to Port Moresby
Layover in Moresby 9 ½ hours at Airways Hotel
1630 Air Niugini flight POM to Hong Kong 8 hours
What Air Niugini lacks in food they make up for in free drinks!
After 22 hours of flights and departure lounges I arrived in Hong Kong. Flying in over the city lights and high rise buildings was an incredible sight. Hong Kong was an interesting stop over. Customs had a very strict health check. Officers wearing surgical masks and gloves stood at the customs gate ready to check our temperature. In addition to the usual custom claims forms, it was required to complete health forms declaring you hadn’t been in contact with anyone who had the swine flu, you didn’t have a sore throat, fever, or that you were not feeling sick in any way. It was intense. At check point #2 I realized I left my neck pillow at checkpoint #1. Yep, I had to head to the back of the line and look forward to another temp check! And on top of that my luggage was no where to be seen on the conveyer belt. The customer rep said not to worry; it would be in Norhtwest’s storage and to just check-in with them in the morning.
The departure lounge was filled with people whose blank gazes never left the television screens…Michael Jackson’s death truly impacted the entire world. I had a lot of time to catch up on the news of the King of Pop. Over 10 hours at the Hong Kong airport. I was starting to feel like Tom Hanks in the movie Terminal. I was hungry for a new book, magazines filled with the world’s current events and of course American fast food. After a few quick emails home and a status update on Facebook, I found a row of empty seats and tried my best to sleep.
The next morning after more Real Life: Hong Kong Terminal, I arrived at the check-in counter in hopes to find my bag. I was not surprised to discover that Air Niugini had lost my bag somewhere between Port Moresby and Hong Kong. Too long in a Country of inefficiencies will do that to you I guess. Flipping Hell! All my PNG artifacts! Lost. Not in the “system,” not in the basement, not found by Niugini's partner carrier in Hong Kong (since there is no office for Air Niugini in Hong Kong). After I involved all reps with Northwest in an effort to get it back I began to realize my bag was gone. Responsibility of Air Niugini-in other wards I’ll never see it again. It basically came to the point where the NWA supervisor told me that the gates were closing and if I wanted to check in I needed to do it immediately and without my baggage. Absolutely not! There was no way I was leaving this side of the world without my bag. I didn’t ride 4 days in a boat up the Sepik River to have all my artifacts lost by a stupid airline. I stomped my loud American foot and insisted for the reps to continue looking in storage. Tears. At that moment I realized how upset I was over material possessions, I remembered one of my favorite quotes from Buddha “Attachment is the source of all suffering,” I checked in without my bag and walked to the gate with my head hung low. I tried my best not to think about all the hand carvings, the baskets, the paintings, the jewelry, the coffee… I wasn’t going to think about how I sat on the edge of a boat, before sunrise, in the pouring rain, with artifacts shoved inside my poncho to only have them so carelessly lost.
When going through yet another security check point, I had forgotten to remove my duty free from my carry on bag. I was already late and I knew this breach of security was going to take some time. I hoped I wouldn’t miss my flight on top of losing my bag. The officer suggested I return to check-in and put my South Pacific beer in my checked luggage. Ha! That’s really funny! The counter was closed and that’s beside the point, I no longer had any check-in luggage! I was forced to watch him throw my last souvenir in the trash. I forced myself to focus on the positives of seeing my family and getting out of that terminal. I hurried to the gate. I was completely flustered by this point. I handed the attendant my passport and boarding pass with the hopes of a stiff drink aboard. “Ms. Ramsey?” the soft spoken attendant asked. “We have found your bag.” WTF! I knew it! It was one of those 'told you so' moments....I told them they had it and they just needed to look harder! I was so elated that my positive energies blocked out all the questions of how and where. The attendant assured me that NWA would check my bag all the way through the 4 hour flight to Tokyo, the 11 flight from Tokyo to Detroit and the other 2 hour flight to Nashville. And yes, to my added pleasure NWA served bottomless bottles of wine! Karma!
0830-1230 NWA/Delta flight Hong Kong to Tokyo 4 hours
Skyscraper madness, cut price electronics, computers and photography equipment. Young girls with dyed ginger hair, short skirts, Prada bags and glasses bigger than they are, all carrying cell phones that make US versions look like relics. A giant-modern day metropolis that screams, “We are not afraid of progress.” They have style with sass. Refinement witih flair. Pulsating with urban adventure. A dynamism between the old and the new.
11 hour flight NWA Tokyo to Detroit
I have lost all concept of day/time by crossing the International Date Line. US Customs and Border Protection Declaration form asks: What countries have you visited on this trip prior to US arrival? PNG, Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, China. And it’s only been 6 months since my last US arrival. A security breech leaves us all standing in US customs. Alarms sounding. Officers shouting orders. No flights outgoing. Airport on lockdown. Welcome to the United States of America! An hour later I am running to my gate….again… My last flight. I cannot stand another moment in an airport departure lounge.
2 Hour flight Detroit to Nashville
I finally made it home. Back to the Big Easy. Back to where I look just like everyone else and no one bothers to find out any different. Surely I am not the same person who left 6 months ago. Surely I have transformed so completely that I should walk into an unrecognizable light. But instead I found comfort in the familiar. The emerging solo artist strumming his Gibson guitar. The slow southern accents, the big 4 wheel drive trucks, the dark denim jeans slouched over cowboy boots. The song of the south.
There’s no place like Home. We immediately emptied my bag and the distinct PNG aroma filled the room. All my artifacts made it alive and well through all custom checks. Despite all the turmoil with my bag, only two pukpuk (crocodile) carvings lost the tips of their tails. Nothing a little wood glue can’t solve. My parents marveled over the Sepik artifacts as I told stories and explained PNG culture.
Freshly showered and wearing some of my favorite clothes from my closet, we headed straight to the Mexican restaurant and drank margaritas! A long way home, but well worth the journey!
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