she she

we are an adventurous family.

we're going away together for two weeks to a mixed feelings place. A place of ancient and noble history and shocking uncivil rights. A place both eminently civilized and barbaric. I am thrilled and a little terrified, but it's mostly the fear of wearing an adult diaper at the great wall, or having to spit up while on public transport--the ignoble and oh so human in the face of the divine or at least breathtaking. Will there be Jo-butt sized toilets in the Emperors palace? Will I be able to get the large plastic cylinder that attaches to my inhaler through customs? And what about my foot spray? It's aerosol. I'll check it. It's essential--that funk could cause an international incident. Phew.

Remember the days when you'd throw on a backpack and stride, ultimately confident, through airports and unknown places and across foreign roads, washing your drawers in woolite when appropriate, not needing a lipstick or Extra-Strength Tylenol or zit cream or probiotics or yoga poses, or industrial strength moisturizer for alligator skin, or pills for your sugar and sugar for your blood, or orthodics, or a medic alert bracelet? And you'd willingly swim in strange new waters, talk to handsome and not so handsome strangers, listen animatedly to the woman next to you's story about how she was in the Outback and saw a dingo carry off one of her Doc Martens, explore trails knotty with brambles and lavender, stomp up to the top of the mountain ahead of the tour group to drink in the unblemished air and gaze over the landscape of castles or waterfalls or clear Azure water, to absorb the otherness through your oh so open pores and mind and spirit.

No them. Only us, as Bono says.

I'll look for the similarities, the humanity. I'll seek the connections. That's what we all do. That's why we go. To learn, to see, to see ourselves in other histories, other stories. It will be like going to the moon. It will be like going next door. And I'll wink at anyone I see who I suspect is also wearing an adult diaper.

I told the lady at the Chinese restaurant who makes me won ton broth when I'm sick. "Reeeeeeeaaaaaalllly?" She trilled. "You go? I wish I come with you."