Adventures Abroad

What draws us to travel away from home?

Maybe this isn’t true for you. But I am definitely one of those people with a pretty consistent wanderlust.

I love the new and different and uniqueness of travel abroad.

But there’s no denying the loneliness.

No matter how occupied and planned my days and nights, there are chunks of time alone. Sometimes that’s what I appreciate about being away. The complications and to-do lists associated with being at home are stripped away. But the last two days brought into sharp contrast the equally typical ups and downs of the experience.

Sunday was the first night of the Jewish celebration of the new year, Rosh Hashanah. Holidays can be an odd time when traveling. Sometimes I am in a location that celebrates the holiday. Sometimes not. And if you’re someone who enjoys family get togethers, of course those are missed. I was fortunate to be invited to the home of a Brazilian Jewish family. They welcomed me into their family and their own Rosh Hashanah celebration. I spent the evening in an apartment with 18 of my newest friends. Toddlers cuddling into laps. Children playing games and sneaking sweets. Brothers and sisters sharing stories who haven’t seen each other for a while. Most people speaking in a language I do not understand. But they were gracious and warm and I felt completely included.

Watching a family in another country share their Rosh Hashanah traditions connected me with the global Jewish community. I speak almost no Hebrew but as the oldest brother led the family through their traditional celebration and in between lines of Portuguese, I recognized the Hebrew blessings for bread and wine and the holiday. I learned at least five new ways to symbolically welcome the new year. My family welcomes the new year with apples and honey to symbolize a sweet year, while my Brazilian family adds to that tradition with pomegranates and dates and leek pie. I took a sip of wine and realized it had the same sweet grape flavor as the one we toast with in my own home, with my own family.

But the next night was completely different.

My family in the US was getting together for Rosh Hashanah and of course I would miss this. I asked my husband to FaceTime me so I could join the festivities virtually. I planned to have my dinner ready so I could eat with them even though I was miles and miles away; a possibility gifted by the Internet universe. We could be together even though we couldn’t be together. I gathered my food and waited for the call.

Watched a few shows on Netflix.

And waited.

I sent text messages periodically asking when the call would come.

No reply.

As the minutes ticked by, my wait slowly spun into worry. Why wasn’t anyone calling me? They knew I was waiting. Something must’ve happened. Someone must be hurt. They must be in the hospital. Or worse. When you’re alone and miles away it’s easy to spin a story out of control.

Hours went by.

Eventually, the call came in.

The other side of the screen showed happy smiles.

But not from me.

I just about burst into tears.

All I wanted was a connection with my family on a day that we would all have been together.

I recognize that it’s my choice that separated us and my longing for adventure and my travel wanderlust. But still. I thought they would want me there, even if just on a tiny screen. I was angry. And hurt. They claimed the family host would allow no phones at the table. Is that what I was— a phone on the table? Why no one fought to have me included as a family member at the table, I will never understand.

I’ve been replaying the evening and the phone call over and over in my head. Were my expectations too high? Am I overly sensitive? Is this all just to be expected with adventures abroad? Perhaps yes.

We travel for new experiences. We travel to stretch ourselves out of our comfort zone. When I bring students on travel abroad experiences I warn them that their vision of the perfect trip needs adjusting and is likely to contain bumps in the road. It’s all part of the experience. It's like the workout mantra of, “No pain no gain“. I guess that mantra holds true in lots of environments. Sometimes it takes the pain of a missed opportunity or the distance of loved ones to bring the entire situation into clarity.

Years and years of memories of family dinners with people laughing and card games played late into the night, and kids running up and down hallways, seem unlikely to be in my future. Actually they haven’t been in my present. In the last 2 years some of my closest family have moved a flight away. And it is likely that my daughter will move a lengthy plane ride away when she graduates college next year. Spending time at my Brazilian family’s home for Rosh Hashanah made that longing so clear. And to have a next day reflect the exact opposite made it all just a little too painful. I’m not sure what to do about all of this.

Due to a wonderful and special award recognition I received I actually have several more International travels this year. I made sure I would be home during Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving the way I remember it, with lots of people and lots of kids hasn’t been like that for several years. I love my small family deeply. But I miss the loving chaos and the laughter and the food and even the complaining about this and that. I sometimes feel like it matters to no one else in my family but me.

Today I wake up in a beautiful unfamiliar country.

I will take a yoga class in another language.

I will have meetings with funny moments of awkward translations.

I will stop at the market and try my best to select the right food and say thank you and goodbye in Portuguese.

I know I am so lucky to be here.

But life is sometimes about the spaces in between.

And yesterdays “in between” made my heart hurt.