On not going home… yet

Airport security lines.  Not something I ever thought I’d miss, but I actually do.  As long and annoying as security lines can be, they also represent a step in getting you closer to your family and friends. 

Wherever you travel in the world, the typical security line at an airport looks pretty much like all others, with a baggage scanner, a body scanner and staff who to varying degrees of thoroughness check whether you are bringing anything potentially dangerous (or bottled water) into the boarding gate areas.  Though these lines generally look the same, there are a few variations— in the US for example, Global Entry and TSA PreCheck lines can help reduce the amount of time you have to stand in line (and I’ll admit I’m always jealous of these folks).  And in some countries, based on cultural and religious reasons, there are two separate security lines, one for women and one for men, although it should be noted that while security lines are gender binary, humans are not.  But no matter where you are, one thing you’re guaranteed to see in a security line is a stack of generic trays that you use to put all your stuff on so your personal items can be scanned.  While taking a picture of an empty tray would seem a rather strange thing to do, the last time we were in Tokyo Narita Airport, I had to take the picture of the above tray.  It’s pretty cool, right?  This was the first time I had seen such a tray that wasn’t plain and dull, and I thought it was great that they took the extra step of trying to help you sort your stuff out while reminding you of what you need to put on the tray in the first place.  For this and so many reasons, you gotta love Japan!  

Anyway, as anyone who has traveled by plane knows, the process you go through on the ground before you even get up in the air can be downright exhausting, and one of the small but frustrating hurdles you may face on your journey is when you’re told by a security officer that your backpack, purse, or carry-on has to be checked by hand.  It can be a real drain, waiting and wondering what suspicious thing you packed (did I accidentally put those small scissors in my bag?) One thing’s for sure, making it over the other side of the security line without delay is truly a relief.  Sure, it’s still a pain to have to gather up all of your stuff again, especially when you’re in a crowded and impatient line and you’re trying to put your laptop away as you’re simultaneously trying to put your shoes back on and maybe your belt or watch too, all the while double checking you still have all the passports, tickets, phones, chargers, keys and travel companions.  That’s why over the years I’ve developed a habit of taking a nice deep breath and exhaling just as I leave the security area.  It signals “ok, that’s done…so far, so good” and it’s a small way to release some of the stress that traveling inherently includes.

My last international trip was a big one, a literal round-the-world trip to see my family in the US for Christmas and my wife’s family in Japan for the New Year.  Traveling from Bangkok westward, we made it back to Doha airport for the first time in ages and although we no longer had Qatar Airways lounge access, it was really nice to transit through Doha again as the airport has a warmer, newer, more comfortable feeling than most. 

When you transit through airports, you’re usually either just burning time, trying (or trying hard not) to catch some sleep, or hustling to make your connection.  And some of these layovers can be real nightmares— too short, too long, unexpectedly too long (sandstorms, snowstorms, hurricanes/typhoons, fog…) or just one too many stops altogether. But at this point, since we’re not able to travel from Thailand due to risks associated with the pandemic and not knowing exactly how/when we would be able to return, I would happily settle for ANY kind of layover, even multiple horrible layovers, if it meant we could safely see our families and friends again in the US and Japan.   

As with everything, it’s so easy to take things for granted.  And once you can’t travel, for example, you find yourself reflecting on how important it is to you.  And that’s been happening to me a lot these days.  Suddenly a scene will play in my mind from a trip home and a flood of feelings will rush over me.  Sometimes it’s just little things, like my mom’s smile, or a joke my dad told, or the sound of laughter from the last time we played Attack Uno.  It could be the different shades of green outside, or the fireplace or kotatsu table inside.  Maybe it’s remembering a song that was playing on the radio while riding in the back seat of our parents’ family cars (Ako and I haven’t owned one for 16 years) or just lounging at home on the comfy couch, binge watching the shows we can’t see overseas.  It could be a visual of the familiar kitchen, with the aroma of morning coffee and a well-stocked refrigerator of goodies and always a gallon (or liter) of Kroger (or Meiji) milk.  And all those foods we take advantage of that we can’t indulge in overseas, whether it be my dad’s delicious homemade Cincinnati chili or my Japanese mom’s amazing homemade katsudon.  And don’t forget the imo yokan (a sweet potato treat) or a bowl of the world’s tastiest ice cream, Graeter’s black raspberry chocolate chip.

When I close my eyes, I can see our Japanese home and our American home so vividly.  I can see us walking in through the front door, taking off our shoes and seeing those beautiful smiles of our parents.  I can see us unloading our suitcases and taking over the guest bedrooms, the American one with a nice big bed and the Japanese one with 3 futon mattresses laid out side by side. There’s the little lovely lake behind my parent’s house, with the heron who swoops down to catch his lunch, and the mama and papa geese and their goslings who parade around and call it home.  And there’s the cute octopus park right across from Ako’s parent’s place, named for the playground octopus that kids have been climbing up and sliding down for years, including Ako and Kai.

It’s hard not to travel when family reunions are an essential part of your life.  Hard, frustrating, and depressing.  And this year is the first time in a long time we won’t be celebrating the holidays with our families.  Adding to this disappointment is not knowing when we’ll be able to travel back to our homes next.  

But the key word missing here is yet.  We don’t know when we will be able to return… yet.  When you add that one word, it makes a difference in your overall perspective.  Despite all the disappointments of 2020 thus far, there will be joyful reunions someday.  And there will be lots of hugging, lots of things to catch up on, and lots of hikes and meals and trips to the grocery store to enjoy together.  And although we don’t know yet when it will happen, there’s no doubt that we’ll really appreciate our next trip home that much more. It’s gonna be so incredibly sweet.  Sweeter than all the black raspberry chocolate chip ice cream in the whole world.