Restless Soul

Ty dubbed me Flight Risk (his explanation for not pursuing the romantic me). I have to admit it resonated as much as it stung because I’ve never lived in a place longer than four years. Never.

My dad did a 20-year stint in the military, and while he retired by the time I was 10, my family continued to move for a few years after. I guess after his nomadic life, settling down took some settling into. 

Up until the age of 18 I can blame transience on my parents but after that…after that it was all me. I spent four years in college, and I spent every summer in a different place. Those moves were temporary, like training wheels; after graduation I set my sights on much more distant lands and coasted on my own.

Enter South Africa.

A Peace Corps volunteer with no electricity my first year and a lot of time on my hands, I started making lists. Lists gave me things to ponder and things to work toward. 

It started with things I wanted to do while I was living in South Africa and quickly morphed. I don’t remember everything on that list but seeing the big five and going to Victoria Falls were both there. My list became a mélange of things to see, places to go, activities to experience. Never static, I added new points of interest and crossed achieved ones off. 

I can't think of any substantive lists for myself now without thinking of those early lists scratched out on reused paper by the light of a paraffin lamp in my village.

One of my besties used to make a habit of sending me birthday gifts early. A big box would arrive a week or so before the actual day and she’d call to ask me, joy in her voice, if I’d opened it yet. It took her a few years to realize that the waiting didn’t bother me. In fact, it didn't bother me at all but my not opening it bothered her. 

She struggled to understand that I relished the anticipation. Like the days before an international trip- it hasn’t happened yet- the world is full of infinite possibilities. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the actual traveling. I love the actual gift. But there is a beauty to the anticipation. My love of anticipation, however, does not extend to travel lists. I don't relish daydreaming about theoretical good times in lieu of actual good times. Although my temperament basks in the "could be" aspects of life, where country selection for travel is concerned, I'm a rip-the-wrapping-off-and-see-what's-inside kind of woman.

Turkey was on my "to visit" list, and Peru. Peru got crossed off last year and Turkey earlier this year. Ethiopia made tap danced on my desires and turned out to be so nice I had to visit twice. Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos are on my list at the moment, but all three of them are on my travel schedule for early next year. 

Cappadocia, Turkey last year.

I'd be lying if I said there are no lingering places that are growing dusty from lack of my attention. India pops up first. Time and resources never seem to align in a way that would allow me to experience India in the way I would like. When I moved back to the United States after living in Uganda for a year, that break appeared to be the perfect time to go, but I was looking for a job and unsure how soon that search might yield fruit and after stopping in a few other places (Ethiopia and Italy) it was close to Xmas and I missed my family.  More recently I’ve contemplated the trip, but with only three viable weeks of vacation in a year, it seems hardly feasible to work my way through even a single Indian state. 

Excuses excuses.

I don’t believe there will always be an opportunity to experience the things in life that I want to experience, so at some point in the near future I’ll have to suck it up and go, short stint in a single state or not. 

Another country that has been batting around in my head for years is Brazil, specifically, Bahia. The current deterrent is the Olympics, an event prone to upset Brazil's norms and increase the cost of pretty much everything…Brazil will have to wait until 2017. Then there’s Mali. The year I planned to go, just a few weeks out from what would have been my departure, there were a few kidnappings of Westerners. I often joke that no one would kidnap me but I’m not trying to test my theory. 

Random breakfast in Tokyo, Japan.

That list is only three places long, driven by food (India), fascination with the worldwide African diaspora (Brazil), and a feeling of mystery and uniqueness (Mali), is all I can conjure at the moment.  Of course there are a million places in the world I'd love to experience and would jump at the chance but those three are the ones that spring immediately to mind for reasons beyond, "why not?".

For all of the places that pique my interest there are others that I never think about. New Zealand is pristine and beautiful, it wasn’t remotely on my list of places to visit though. And while it isn’t my favorite country, I found friendship and love and an assortment of experiences there.

Guatemala snuck up on me as I wallowed in depression and desperation after evacuating and then doing recovery work in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina. I met amazing people had one of the most exquisite meals I’ve ever had, and danced like a crazy person on its Caribbean coast.

Most recently that place I wasn’t interested in visiting was Japan.  Until I visited, I didn’t know how much I deeply adore Japanese food. I didn’t know how fascinating order (on trains, in lines, with food) could be. A friend invited me into his world in Japan and I was smitten.

Those were all places that never made it onto even the tail-end of my traveling lists and yet they were amazing for all of the reasons that visiting a new place and experiencing new things are amazing. I will never have a list of five places to visit. My curiosity and nomadic reality will continue to introduce me to places and, once visited and scratched off of whatever impermanent list I'm keeping, will be replaced with someplace new and probably unexpected.

Prompt courtesy of the Daily Post:The Wanderer.

Obsessed

I’m obsessed. 

I own it. 

I’m obsessed with Stephen Curry and the Golden State Warriors. 

Doing high school in Texas, I’ve always had an affinity for football because in Texas God may rule most days of the week  but on Friday nights prayers are for high school football.

That said, I’ve gone to sleep each night for some embarrassing number of nights, watching highlights and interviews of the Warriors. I find it cathartic. I find the hustle and flow of the game relaxing. I find the antics of the team humorous. I can watch it all over and over again. And I do. 

Steph and his family are endearing and relatable…not the insanely rich and famous part but definitely the closeness part. Listening to Steph’s father talk about his mother reminds me of my dad talking about my mom. I smile when I see his parents at his games, holding Riley and jumping up and down like the crazy fans parents should always be for their children. It reminds me of a more animated version of my dad, dressed in a three-piece suit, shoes off, sitting in the stands of my middle school basketball games cheering me on during a small break in his day before heading back to work. 

None of that has anything to do with how he plays the game but it is part of the reason I enjoy watching him so much. I don’t know Steph Curry, I only know his persona. But given how few people are able to cultivate and maintain a likeable persona in this age of 24/7 coverage on every medium possible, even if he and his family aren’t as endearing as they seem, they get kudos for putting on one hell of  a front. Truth be told though…I believe they are who they seem to be.

Steph being a nice guy is only a part of it. Steph is amazing because Steph gonna Steph…and he’s been Stephing all over this season so far. Only 20 games in, people are making incredible predictions about him and the Warriors squad, about what they will or should accomplish this year. As much as I enjoy contemplating the possibilities, what I love more is watching them. I love watching the whole team.

I like to watch Steph launch 3s from so far beyond the 3-point line that it seems insane, until he makes it, and then it seems like that was the only thing he could have done. I love watching Draymond Green fight for every ball as if the game depends on it; it makes it so natural for him when the game does depend on it (go to 8:50 if you want to see what I’m talking about). I love when Klay Thompson finds a rhythm and sets fire to the net with deep 3s (yes this is last season but WOW!). 

I love Andre Iguodala, Festus Ezeli, and Shaun Livingston stepping up always. I love that our bench is deep, that on any given day we have heroes emerge seemingly from nowhere…like Ian Clark and Brandon Rush.

Today a friend called me a bandwagon fan. She said I’m only into basketball right now because of Steph. The truth is that the Warriors have made basketball fun again. I remember feeling this way about basketball way back when Warriors Coach, Steve Kerr, played for the Bulls. Of course, then, like now, everyone was a fan of the Bulls. How could you not be? Their bench was deep their talent varied, their superstar subject to set the net on fire.

And no, I’m not trying to compare Steph to Michael Jordan. I don’t see the point in all of these comparisons and declarations about who is the best now or in all time. I only bring up Mike because like Steph, he didn’t shine at the expense of his team, they all shined the brighter. Everyone was the better.

 And they were fun.

The Warriors are fun. Presumed niceness aside, I am awed and wowed and giddy with joy when I watch these guys. I love the teamwork. I love the unselfish approach to the game. I love that even when they are flawed they can rally. I love Curry. I love them all. 

Bandwagoner or connoisseur of basketball joy, whatever my label call me Dub Nation!