by Heather Plett | Apr 5, 2008 | travel
In case you’re still popping in to this rather quiet space now and then and you’re wondering if perhaps I fell off the face of the earth, don’t worry, I’m still alive.
I made it back home from India in the wee hours of the morning on Tuesday. But I was only home long enough to sleep off a bit of jet-lag, do a load of laundry, have a hot shower in a clean bathroom (oh, what a luxury!), and meet my new niece, and then it was off for a couple of days of girl-bonding and rejuvenating poolside with my mom, my sister, my daughters and my niece.
How was the trip, you ask? Well, it will take some time to answer that question. Parts of it were amazing and exhilarating, like the hours spent on a rather rickety wooden boat visiting the Sundarban islands. And the miles and miles of picturesque rice fields and fish ponds. And the many delicious meals of curry and lentils and seafood of various kinds. And then there were the people – so many wonderful, genuine, compassionate and brave people.
But more parts of it were really quite hard. This was definitely the hardest trip I’ve ever taken. I’ve been to developing countries before, and I’ve seen some pretty difficult things, but nothing I’ve seen in Africa quite prepared me for this.
I think the difference can be summed up in one word – hope. Most of the people I’ve met in Africa have at least a small amount of hope for the future. “When the rains come, our crops will be better.” “When the government changes, things will turn around.” “When the conflict ends…”
But in this trip – especially in parts of India – there seems to be a depressing lack of hope. Most of the people we met are of the lowest caste in the country – the “untouchables”. They are simply resigned to the fact that life will never get much better than it is right now. The government won’t make any effort to change things (even though they’re more economically stable than in the past), they’ll never have access to land so even the weather won’t change things for the better, and most of the other people in their country believe that they deserve no better than they’re getting. The resulting hopelessness evokes a certain deadness in their eyes that’s going to stay with me for a long time.
Add to that a number of rather horrible accommodations (bed bugs, dirty sheets, stinky bathrooms, sporadic electricity, noisy geckos, mosquitoes), many, many hours of bumpy roads and scary drivers dodging rickshaws and bicycle transport, and a head cold that started on the flight there and hasn’t ended yet, and it makes for a rather tough couple of weeks.
It’s going to take a while to process all that I’ve seen, so bear with me if I write about it from time to time. There are some memories I won’t be able to get out of my mind until I process them a little more, and for me that usually involves writing about it. So you’ll probably get to share some of the processing.
Hopefully in the next day or two, I’ll have some pictures posted.
by Heather Plett | Mar 13, 2008 | travel
Complication #542 – Though I can now go to the first faraway country, our new cameraperson (from the second faraway country) may not be able to enter the country. (Not just a minor inconvenience when your whole purpose of traversing the globe is to produce a film.)
I don’t think I’m exagerating when I say it’s the 542nd complication. Seriously. I started planning this trip in January, and nothing has gone smoothly. Absolutely nothing. When the dust settles, I’ll write a long list of all the things that have gone wrong and I’ll most certainly bore you all to tears.
Today, every time I open yet ANOTHER email with bad news, I find myself laughing hysterically. It’s about all I can do. I’m way past Murphy’s law by now.
Somehow, I must convince my brain that I really AM leaving for the other side of the world in 2 days. Somehow, I have to start getting at least marginally excited about it. How do you turn a knot of stress – that feels like it’s the beginning of an ulcer – into a flutter of excited energy? How do you begin to pack for a trip you haven’t been able to convince yourself you’re actually taking?
Some of my colleagues are thinking of posting a “will Heather REALLY arrive at her destination?” guessing pool on the website. The winner gets a free t-shirt. Or an expired airline ticket.
Here’s hoping my luck begins to change the moment I step on a plane. Provided I actually get ON the plane and don’t get run over by it.
by Heather Plett | Mar 10, 2008 | travel
10:30 this morning
– 4 passports mysteriously lost in the mail/courier (yes, for those who are paying attention, AGAIN!)
– 1 possible tracking number (for the missing package with the passports) that doesn’t reveal anything was shipped
– 1 possible tracking number that shows a package was delivered to an undisclosed address in Toronto (but is it MY package with MY passport?)
– 0 people who can tell me where the package was sent
– 0 people in a particular consulate who will show any form of compassion or cooperation (or even answer the phone most days)
– 5 non-refundable airline tickets to 2 faraway countries – departure date 5 days away
– 1 camera person withdrawn from the film project (1 of the 5 non-refundable airline tickets)
– 1 possible camera person to be hired sight-unseen from one of the faraway countries
– 0 visas for 2 countries
– 1 film permit for 1 of 2 countries
– 5 days left to obtain visas, finish writing film script, pack, pray that passports arrive and film permits and visa applications are approved, sign contract with unknown camera person, make sure the family has clean laundry, get money in the necessary currency… oh, I’d better stop before I depress myself
3:30 this afternoon
– 1 less item of stress on above list. The passports have arrived in our office (I nearly kissed them) and are now on their way to the OTHER consulate (the one that knows something about customer service – the one that approved our film permit and promises visas before our departure date)
by Heather Plett | Nov 24, 2007 | travel
I have another whirlwind business trip coming up in a couple of weeks. To Montreal and Toronto again. Two cities in two days. Two sets of meetings in two different corporate boardrooms with two very different audiences in two cities in two provinces in two days. Too much.
The only thing I’m looking forward to? A train ride from Montreal to Toronto.
How can you tell your life is moving too fast? When the thought of 4 or 5 hours of uninterrupted daydreaming, reading, staring out the window and contemplating the meaning of life gives me no end of delight.
I love trains.
by Heather Plett | Sep 24, 2007 | Fall, travel
.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }
This morning, we watched the last outdoor soccer game of the season. It was a disappointing 1-0 loss for Julie’s team in the semi-final round of the city championship (b-side). It’s over. The end of another season.
It’s time to put the lawnchairs away. Today didn’t feel like summer was over – it was a beautiful day. But the leaves are changing, and we’ve already had the furnace on once or twice in our house.
Fall has arrived.
In other news, I’m sitting in a stinky hotel room. No funky bed and breakfast this time – it was just easier to stay where the conference is being held. I’m stuck in one of those rather boring corporate hotels close to the airport where there isn’t even an interesting place to walk, and unfortunately I booked a little late and there was nothing left but a smoking room. Bummer. Plus I just had a very disappointing greek salad from room service, so this isn’t shaping up to be a particularly memorable place to stay.
Oh well. At least the bed is comfy. And I have a new book to read, so I’m going to curl up with it right now. I took Lucia‘s advice and picked up Infidel in the airport. It looks interesting so far.
by Heather Plett | May 19, 2007 | Toronto, travel
I just returned from another business trip in Toronto. This is what I wrote in my lovely room at The French Connection bed and breakfast…
It is good to be here. In this place.
Good to wander on Queen Street where the city pulses with life.
Good to meander along the path at the bottom of the ravine where trees and bird song muffle the sounds of traffic far away.
Good to sleep in this lovely bed with smooth green sheets, while stripes of muted light reflect on the ceiling above me.
Good to eat with Karla and Mark and meet the beautiful and longed for baby Nate. Good to see them so in love with each other and their son.
Good to light the candle at the end of a long day and sip on a cup of tea brewed in a pretty white teapot.
Good to finally realize, after a long walk on the first day, that I have finally left the baggage of delinquent designers and projects past deadlines behind me for a while.
Good to eat Mexican food with Dan and talk about the places the open mind wanders.
Good to eat the bountiful breakfast Diane provides at her stylishly set table with the faint sounds of Vivaldi softening the room.
Good to talk to colleagues and associates with common visions and ideas, as well as common bumps and bruises.
Good to have lunch with Uncle Menno and to hear him use the word “repulsive” as his personal reaction to churches that won’t let women lead.
Good to wander in the drizzly rain with and without an umbrella.
Good to ride the subway, to hear the screech of the brakes and click-clack of the tracks, to feel the heartbeat of a traveler in my veins, and to watch the myriad of people coming and going.
Good to meet Sam and Pauline, fresh from Kenya, so out of place in their high-rise visitor suite in downtown Toronto but such gracious hosts even here.
Good to eat Indian food with people who have wandered the world in many directions and always found a way to value their place in it.
Good to be alone and let the solitude clear the clutter from my mind.
Good to feel confident and alive and on the road to something important as I present my ideas again and again to fresh faces at each meeting.
Good to listen to music in my room and let it move and soothe me.
Good to talk to travelers around the breakfast table – the American who left the air force, the Italian woman expecting her first baby, the Belgian computer programmer who surprises his colleagues by choosing b&b’s, and Diane, our host, who has traveled the world, lived in Africa, and found her calling making other travelers feel at home in her own comfortable space.
Good to feel equally comfortable surrounded by people or wandering alone.
Good to eat Diane’s fresh homemade croissants.
Good to wander around the mighty castle on the hill, committing the images of flowers to digital memory.
Good to find four good books at the Goodwill Store for a dollar each.
Good to be confided in by a new friend and kindred spirit.
Good to curl up in bed reading Of This Earth, almost as though my dad were reading over my shoulder, chuckling at the memory of his own Mennonite boyhood.
Good to have the fullness of these experiences and then go home to my beloved.
Good to be alive and feel it.
