I was sitting outside a coffe shop/gourmet grocery store this afternoon, enjoying an iced coffee while I waited for Lauren to join me for some TGIF time at our favorite Indian restaurant in our little town of Phu My Hung. I was sitting there watching odd cars go past and hundreds of mopeds often carrying odd, sometimes massive loads zip by. People were dressed sort of like me but sort of not. Just different enough to remind me I am not at home. The air smelled different. The temperature was certainly different. My coffee was even odd. It was in this two tiered filter thing that slowly drips into a cup of sweetened-condensed milk and is then poured over ice. I can't read any of the signs on the street I'm watching and the cars/mopeds don't follow the rules I'm used to cars/mopeds following. The plants and trees are nothing like home and the birds sound different. At times I wonder "Did we actually choose to do this?" and at other times I think "How is it that we are so lucky to be living here?"
It hit me as I sat there that living here, living anywhere overseas, is like snorkeling. You are a visitor in another world. You put on your little mask and snorkel and you jump in. It is a risk and your heart beats faster the first time you do it. It is hard to breathe at first and you don't feel all that great. "I paid to do this?" Then, slowly you become slightly more comfortable with the breathing and bobbing around and you start to appreciate what you're seeing. It is incredible. "I am so lucky to be doing this. I bet my friends wish they were me right now!" You spend a long time bobbing around there, just amazed, and you slowly realize you are getting tired (or, in Lauren's case, cold). Despite how wonderful it is, you are ready to head back to the boat and your world again. But, the moment you are out, you worry. "Is that the last time I'll get to do that? I want to go back in the water!" Should you stay where you are more comfortable and your breathing is more regular or should you push yourself to see all the amazing things this other world has to show you? Despite all the time you spent floating around there, you know you have only seen a small fraction of what there is to see there. You want to gather everyone you love and care about and lure them into the water to show them all the cool stuff you got to see.
With all the wonderful visitors we've had this year, thoughts of our next move swirl around in our heads. We are pulled to return to the comforts of home and family, friends and familiarity. But we also realize we are in an incredible world that relatively few outsiders get to see and we want to stay floating here as long as possible, appreciating every moment we have of the privilege we've been given.
So, do we keep snorkeling, learn to dive so we can go deeper or get back to the boat? We have good problems.
oh, heck, since you are asking for advice, i'll give it. snorkel for one more year, then come home. oops, i mean 'get back in the boat'. no pressure of course, we support you either way. but can we vote? Will gets two votes ("cause I'm TWO"), and i know which way he's leaning.
ReplyDeletewe love you and would visit you on mars.
Oh wow cousin, that is utterly profound and blows my mind. Thank you. I hope some sensible media outlet picks you up as a columnist.
ReplyDeleteMike I echo Kestrel, that blows my mind. Fine writing! I think you should do some European snorkeling after your second year in VN. On the other hand a move takes a lot of work and emotional energy so maybe a third year where you are? You two have to decide and I support you in any decision.
ReplyDeleteAh, like Molly, you know I'm in the "back in the boat" camp. Great writing Mike. And interesting thinking. Hugs. Mom
ReplyDeleteWho knew you were such a great writer Mike... obviously I've been missing out on some great entertainment. This makes for a great record of your adventures. Rob
ReplyDeleteThat's a really great metaphor, Mike. Very good post.
ReplyDeleteAs for advice, what I remember from snorkeling is: don't let the guys in the boat drive away from the island in the tropics with your sunblock in your backpack. Especially if they are not going to return for hours.
I'm sure you can interpret what that means in your current dilemma.