As part of an outing with a D.C. tours and events group, I spent Thanksgiving weekend (just a few months after my Cuban immersion) in New York. I decided to momentarily do something a little less than traditional, though there was talk of a big dinner on the first evening we arrived. The plan was tentative, following introductions of our multi-city group and our walk through the Chelsea High Line.
The hearty group dinner did become quite void and shifted into much more of a scene of us getting caught up in the tour, discussing our interests and backgrounds, and splitting off to wherever our food cravings guided us.
No matter the derailment. Welcome the spontaneity which plays off the organized schedule. I am reminded some of the best outings grow out of these elements. The first night’s highlight was the High Line. The rest of the weekend would consist of a considerable number of stops, including eclectic eateries, art museums, a couple of historical museums, and some shopping on the last day. (I ducked out about a day early, however.)
This abbreviated trip coincidentally came right after an almost magical blast from my past, those lovely days of living and volunteering in South America when I was not preparing but forewarned of what would be my reverse culture shock. Two former co-volunteer friends, now a lovely couple, were visiting the U.S. Now they were on the east coast (my current home). I was back in town so there was nothing imaginable to stop me from seeing this German-Peruvian duo, whom I adore and meeting their adorable sons. Nothing could stop me, but my very post-Cuban jet lag would make getting there somewhat more interesting. Jet lag was very real for them as well, compounded with the commendable attention of keeping up with their boys.
Laughably, I look back. I seriously underestimated the time it would take for me to rent a car and get through traffic from D.C. to Central Park. We were able to meet and catch up before they headed to their flight… fortunately. However, with such an overdone underestimation, I did, in fact manage to miss the first couple of spots we planned to meet.
The weekend Thanksgiving trip to New York was quite different. My non-thinking (not so organized) plans from just a few months prior caused me to smile, as I realized I was glad I had not been thinking all that much. I may have thought I would not make it before they had to go. I may have convinced myself not to try. They completely understood though we were all excited at the possibility of seeing one another.
What I knew more was if we were so nearby (at least technically without traffic) this made sense for me to swing by in a way. Otherwise, we were now living so far apart. I think of this and I am glad my thoughts were ‘Of course’.
I am glad for the times I do not give myself an overabundance of time to think unnecessary thoughts and relieved I am not at times transforming hesitations into inaction.
I do hesitate with certain questions, like I imagine many of us do. How completely understandable, but perhaps our truest answers come in an instant. We barely need to ask.
My heart is heavy with all the many lives, now lost to Coronavirus
(COVID-19) in China and throughout the world. With my company’s new option, starting
Monday, of being able to work from home for a week, I will do so accordingly.
As someone who takes public transportation for quite some time to get there and
back, I want to diminish the chance of being a harm to others or myself. Not
everyone has options like I do, and I think people are commendable in all the
various situations they are facing.
The gym has been a good healthy outlet for me to visit daily
(save one alternating day). Working on my healthiness has done some work for my
psyche in general and a nice bonus is that it is within walking distance. I
also find it healthy to be able to be out and about and socialize in these
continued smaller ways – being out – getting to the stores and the gym has been
nice.
Ironically, I already imagine I will get more done working
from home. I already know, per the chance we got to do so for about a month
during our renovation. It has been quite the year already, well actually two
years, I would say, starting with the flood that totaled most of my coworkers’
cars in the parking garage. We’ve had many ups and downs as a team.
Cuba. I coincidentally got a loving message from
Dignora yesterday. I recalled her in my spontaneous
audio suggestion on Wednesday as the first casa particular in which we stayedin
2016. She reached out to check on me and let me know they were okay. I think going
through our tasks with extra special precautions is key. I think deeply even
more of my fam in Ohio (where I grew up) and friends everywhere. I thought I
had some gratitude before but I’m really appreciating life and how friendly and
well-intentioned most people can be.
A lady asked me if I found any food as we were leaving the grocery store today😊. I said, “some” and asked her how she did? We’re lucky, in this particular store in DC, in Friendship Heights. I can’t speak to the whole DMV (DC, Maryland, Virginia area) but it wasn’t rough at the store just a little up the street. Even when the toilet paper section was starkly bare, next to a lot of other products, there was a considerable number of items left. You only had to reach further back than normal for what you would normally get or settle for brands or items, close enough to what you might desire. Also, there was plenty of food stocked in the perhaps not so healthy areas😊. Then, lo and behold, a smiling Safeway employee rolled out a skid of toilet paper next to the self-checkout line to which I was heading. Even then, people only gingerly started taking one 12 pack two-ply at a time. I don’t know what happens after I leave or what’s going to happen but did I ever really know? We’re just kind of very accustomed to life being a certain way – and that’s okay too. A journey is a journey even when we’re close to home.
Returning home in late August/early September put me back with the comforting feelings of being surrounded by brothers, being chill and thoughtful, now acting as hosts within their own families. There was Voyager playing on Netflix (personally, my favorite installment of Star Trek – for my brothers it’s Deep Space Nine). I enjoy that hum of our commentary as we appreciate and make fun of certain elements of shows and life from almost a purely silly, appreciative, and intellectual standpoint. There is now a mix of nostalgia. What I am reminded of is the sound in the background throughout all our growing up. There is nothing like having my 3 brothers, with our unique interests bouncing off one another with our various creative talents being played out in each other’s company or in solitude. This gift of life includes built-in friendships, not getting along and the unique bond of being raised together by the exact same 2 people with all the parenting/familial lessons they know well and maybe not so well. I’m reminded during that time (now my beloved parents are sadly gone from this world) that my parents wrote out an interesting world for our Midwestern upbringing by way of their respective southern ones. Daddy was from Alabama. Mama was from Georgia. They ended up in Middletown, Ohio, were introduced to one another there and the rest is history. That small city was where we children were born and raised. (My brothers live in surrounding cities now). I could live in DC, where I am now until the end of time and I have been told my tenure could give me the ability to claim DC similarly. Yet, the very idea of that is still laughable to me, a bit absurd, especially when I think of the roots and energy and foundation implanted in me in the swing state. I can’t not claim it, despite its also racist painful, alienating spaces and experiences and, in fact, the pain aka the dirt is also a part of my roots – what makes me thoughtful, inclusive and empathetic today.
One of the new Ohio Johnson arrivals is my vibrant 3-year-old nephew and I decided right away that he is a rough and tumble, sweet, affectionate, rambunctious, boy. He, in turn decided early on that my name is also “Mommmy”. Truly, it is as if I made him up. This is how I would have invented every detail from the long lashes surrounded by an adorable, adoring face. Even the naughtiness and respectfulness are something I would have conjured up with just the right mixtures. This is not to mention the little actions and reactions that are very unique to who he is. Playing with him, reading to him and teaching him is at times akin to a meditative level as one gets lost in the world of youth, feeling tired but uplifted, while seeing the world through their eyes – seeing what brings them joy or disappointment. Children are great teachers, magically expending our energy, while at the same time giving us life! I understand again how natural it would be to flow into being a parent, developing with children as their needs change and they grow.
On being “Mommmy”: Despite the fact of my sister-in-law and I not looking alike, I can see he has endearingly decided that we are different versions of each other. Quite the compliment! He would call to me as he was being carted off to bed very reluctantly or wanting to eat or play with something he shouldn’t have. He was quite the explorer, like many children curious about everything around them. (We can learn so much from them).
Journey to Journey
I spent a very formative and special amount of time in Columbus, Ohio as well. I am also an alumni of The Ohio State University (yes “The” is an official part of the title which I rarely include but it is fun to know and people love to tease us about our official stance). A lot of people were impressed I chose this school as others were starting closer to southwest Ohio and I had the later knowledge of realizing just how renowned a school it is as I was enrolled there. My reasons for attending were the desire of a large campus with nice programs, of which there were many. I had quite a lot of choices. The campus was a mecca of opportunities, experiences and places nearby to explore. I learned a lot in and outside of the classroom and I also chose this academic venue for its amazing diversity-both locally and internationally represented. College life was not all glorious, not without its challenges but it led to many triumphs, fun meaningful and funny experiences, cute and painful dating experiences, included. There was some soccer – more played than watched, there was eating without gaining weight, there was dancing, there was late night studying and all-nighters, there were friends from every area of the world and so much more. Every moment, I realized early on, was one that I absolutely did not regret. I’m glad I chose to live, play and work at this school. (It also didn’t hurt that it happens to be a Big Ten Champion football school with a rivalry (vs Michigan) like no other! I play around with this with friends and even my girl boss who are fans of wrong schools. It can be fun. My COO – who is actually a Virginia Tech fan and alumni, even pretended to accidentally throw away my plushie Ohio state bobble-like head yesterday. He looked at it closer, saying he had mistakenly taken it for trash. I had joked with him long ago when I brought it in how I knew he was tempted to own it and not to steal it when I wasn’t in the office. I ain’t mad at him. I actually erupted into giggles. I have absolutely got to give folks credit for expertly delivered trash talk. Incidentally, later today, I may take in the game.
Officially official
Bye for now,
readers. I wanted to bring you this lighthearted yet deep (lol) follow up post
today. You may recall You May Go Home
Again. I will deliver 2 more September installments to you as well. Feel
free to like below and share. I look forward to sharing more travel, volunteer
and random stories and thank you again for sharing your time with me!!
Intriguing mishaps can meet you no matter the distance. These
would be ones like those unfolding on my early morning metro commute one very early
August morning. These would also be those hiccups that presumably seem to be
mere circumstance, but sometimes, I wonder. I wonder if certain stumbling
blocks are the signs and whispers (which I’m incidentally listening to for
guidance) — are they signs of my own misdirection. Literally and figuratively.
How about those obstacles? I happen to feel like I am at a crossroads so
naturally I wonder. When I make one decision or change my mind, I wonder. Which
step is next? Is something not seemingly working out because I need to go about
it differently or do I need to not go about it all?
Mishaps also have a brilliant way of instilling gratitude. Gratitude
could just be there on its own but there are times when I see it underscored by
the knowledge of what the downside has been or could be. As simple as the experience
of being caught out in a monstrous storm versus having a sunny day off from
work.
It was just earlier this month – heading to work. I have become
oddly accustomed to waking up much earlier to allow for the extra time it will
take to get there. You see, there is customary maintenance underway on the metro
and that means that the service for both the Blue Line and Yellow Line are
interrupted a couple stops before I get to my regular stop. Consequently, there
are free shuttle buses covering the gaps. This is when gratitude battles with
agitation = Round 1. I am actually quite grateful for the inconvenience
convenience. I remind myself.
I’ve taken this as an opportunity to engulf books – one of
my pastimes which I’m pleased I’ve avidly gotten back to not neglecting (over
the past several years). Before getting
to the shuttle, I take two trains and it’s no rush, because as I was mentioning
I’ve decided to get up early to allow for trains possibly not showing up on
time, breakdowns on buses, etc. This was the perfect day to be prepared for
both.
The second train I transfer to took about 20 minutes longer to get to the shuttle bus destination because of a down circuit at another station. Once on the shuttle bus, driven by a friendly Ethiopian American gentleman, we journeyed what seemed steadily along. However, this was not the time to get comfortable. Not yet. Not the moment riders collapse away into their respective phones and other reading material. So, it seemed, the bus suddenly could not start back up once the bus driver stopped to open the door before crossing a railroad track (the obligatory traffic regulation).
I thought the two out-of-service buses eventually pulling up
alongside him were going to rescue us from the highway. I thought this laughably
but still fully imagining the possibility. Out of Service rotating on
the bus signage where a number and destination usually was meant they weren’t
currently running a route.
A couple of anxious passengers began standing and moving up
front, towards the bus driver. They had to be thinking similarly. We had been sitting
in silence for a considerable amount of time as the bus driver tried to restart
the bus. Once, he powered down completely, the lights turned out briefly, but…nothing.
The two moving buses, however, mainly held up a few cars in
the next lane, while one of the respective bus drivers did board our bus to see
if she could help him. This also made complete sense, except for, they were oddly
not communicating with us. She finally asked where we were headed. I found this
oddly hilarious since we were not one or two random hitchhikers but rather a
bus load of about 40 passengers headed to a couple of designated stops specifically
designated by metro along a typical work route. She said she could get us to
King Street. We were so thankful for her. (I thanked the first bus driver as we
left him. He had gotten us as far as he could and now could get help without a
bunch of anxious eyes on his back).
Our new driver immediately took us to a point that has recently
become very familiar. This is where usually about 1% of the bus riders exit while
most of us get off at the second shuttle stop, closest to our employment. (There
are various shuttle buses available at other stations too, if one happens to be
traveling beyond those other temporarily closed connecting stations).
This particular day, we assumed there would be a second stop to come. We were incorrect. She said she was not a certain type of bus and we all had to get out here. I write “certain” because I’m not sure exactly what distinction there was. She didn’t say “not a shuttle” so mystery still remains there.
I felt myself inwardly – maybe not so inwardly – smirking throughout
these events. To work on limiting the anguish and knowing that I got up early
for a reason, it became one of those times, I touched on in an earlier post, on
which you will look back and laugh, but you actually find it so random that you find yourself
laughing in the moment.
Getting off the bus, I made a quick turn on to King Street, knowing I would walk the rest of the way, At least we were in the vicinity and off the highway. People were standing outside now, hesitant and agitated before figuring out next steps. I thought to myself how they didn’t realize their fortune. I thought they have obviously never been dropped off by a local vehicle taking them in the wrong direction in Havana before. (future blog post to come😊).
Overall, life is now a far cry from dealing with car notes
and car problems (though I have missed my middle-aged Ford on some grocery
store and additional weekend errands). My recollection here is just the other
side of some trouble with modern convenience but I also pause to say I am
grateful for the high probability of on-time and quick service that gets me
where I need and want to be. Since I gave up my car before heading to Peru the
first time, I’m pretty fortunate to live in a large enough area with a good
public transportation system. An added plus is living in such a walk-friendly space.
Universe just simply took a moment to say: Here’s a reminder
of the importance of leaving an hour earlier during a partial metro shutdown😊
Also, here is the importance of temporary solutions, good
systems being made better, a number of helpful people when it’s not always
expected, and a fairly healthy portion of self-reliance.
