Hard work/Rusty Toyota
It’s been five years since I’ve left the States so I can’t wait to fly to Barcelona and then Bangkok next month. The last five years I’ve worked really hard at school, supported family and friends, and neglected some other things like music, meeting lots of good people, and traveling. Next August I’ll jump into medical school and the goal is to keep paying attention to the more important parts of life – the stuff that makes us alive, A.L.I.V.E.
“We all live in a Yellow Ryder Truck…” my family harmonized as we barreled through rural Ontario towards our new home. It was 1990, mid-July, Bush I had just invaded Iraq, we were moving to Canada and there was no air conditioner in the truck. Smushed into the cab with me were my mom, dad, little sister Ella, and our mutt, Anna. Our rusty Toyota trailed behind packed with indispensables and my dehydrated hampster. Ruby the hamster traveled from Minneapolis, Minnesota to Lucknow, Ontario before she expired. The rest of us made it to begin a new life in the attic of a friend’s old barn.
The previous scene, and its reincarnation several years later (from Ontario to Vermont), encompassed everything I thought I needed to know about “travel” – hardheaded idealism, family songs, and lots of dog saliva. Thankfully I decided to spend time in the Basque region of France for 7 months during college. That trip features me spurting “qu’est-que tu fait avec mes trucs? Tu a besoin de quoi?” to the man robbing me on the midnight train from Milan to Bayonne. He started to laugh and couldn’t stop while he slipped me my headlamp and CD player and sat down to discuss Moroccan/French relations before jumping off the train just ahead of the conductor in Toulouse. That was the year 9/11 happened back in the States and it was hard to untangle the culture shock I had upon return from actual changes in American culture. Fast forward a few years and you see me wrapping up college, sitting in a chair studying, nannying, working at a pharmacy, helping my friend Matthew take anatomy at vet school, running about with my sister Ella, my mom’s father dies and my dad’s mother dies and I help them, then the dog dies. Things calm down and now we are in 2006.
This last year I’ve been scrambling to catch up on some important values with more or less success. I’ve met some inspiring friends, learned to knit and shoot baskets, and talked about playing my flute a lot, all while working at a pediatric refugee clinic (Yay!) and a new patient health library (sitting in a chair…) 50-60 hours a week. This trip is brought to me by a purple swivel chair and Burlington’s tiny refugees.
![135280947_fbf04d6359[1].jpg](http://blogs.bootsnall.com/Greta/files/2006/04/135280947_fbf04d6359[1].jpg)
I find downtown Burlington pretty exciting and can’t picture myself in Bangkok yet but that’s just one more reason to go. So far the itinerary is open – a Quaker gathering in Spain on cross-cultural spirituality, then a few friends and a canning factory to visit in Vietnam? I might add one more item to that list but more likely I’ll step off the plane, cross the street, and walk into something.
Tags: Laos, USA, USA
Greta
The question is not, what will Boots walk into, but rather, what will walk into Boots. The woman thrives upon entropy, so you can imagine, every wild story inevitably finds her, sipping tea.
Bon Voyage GMoney! Et bonne chance. Je sais que ton voyage sera formidable, et que pleins de bonne choses vont arriver à toi. Je vais m’amuser cet été en lisant ton BLOG, alors n’oublies pas d’ajouter tous tes histoires et surtout les photos! Je souhaite que je pouvais t’accompagner mais peut-être la prochaine fois en Afrique:)
Can’t wait to hear more about your adventures! I’m so excited for you! (Come home the Eastern route to the Western United States, and visit me in San Francisco??)
Love you!
I hope your journeys are Most Wonderful, not TOO Exciting, and don’t involve an excessive amount of Dog Saliva. And that you always remember who loves you and who you can call (collect, of course) or page at any hour……. and to post photos!
Dear Greta,
Thanks for having a totally good send-off brunch! The leftover pancake batter (2 cups) was even better the next day.
Just so you know I have arranged for no catastrophies over the next four months, worldwide, and have pre-bribed every corrupt official in each country listed (starting with White House), so no need to tip them extra.
Have a fun trip!
Love,
Dad