comfort and familiarity

I will tell you a secret. When I was a graduate student in Hong Kong, I often came in touch with foreign exchange students, mostly coming from the United States. I observed that often they were excited to be in the exotic Orient, but also that they often complained that they could not find the things they were familiar with. Once I went with a couple of them to Beijing and they were absolutely exhilarated to finally be able to eat a meal at McDonald's. I listened to their complaints about how things were different and how things were in the US, and secretly I snorted at them.

I thought, "Well, if you want all those things, why didn't you just stay home? If you came here to experience and learn something different, then you ought to expect very different things!"

Oh, talk about youth and arrogance!

Well, what was one of the first things I did when I learned about our move? I went and check if they have the following in Albany: Trader Joe's. Whole Foods. Costco.

And the answers: NO. NO. NO.

Did I panic? YES. Was I overcome with a sense of dread? Er, yes.

I mean, what about those chocolate-covered almonds with sea salt and turbinado sugar? And the sprouted wheat bagels? And the delish Thai dumplings? Organic roasted chicken that had rescued our dinner many a time? And I have never bought wet wipes from anywhere else but from Costco.

You asked if they will have a library as great as our beloved Sunset library? I wondered the same.

I have been thinking how long it will take for me to get used to all the roads, and figure out how to drive there, and how difficult will it be for me to source out staple foods that we will all be happy about.

Ah, familiarity and comfort. We all crave that. We all need that.

This is why foreign students cramp their luggage full of foods from home and loving mothers (and grandmothers) labor to fill containers and jars with home-made curry paste and chili paste that can never, ever be found in that other foreign country. Home is the best, home-made even better. Being able to take a piece of home with you (including tattered blankets and old stinky pillows) is even better. Security blankets come in all forms and shapes (and smells).

Do you remember that evening when I righteously expounded upon the need to move beyond our comfort zone? To explore the new, and expose ourselves to unfamiliar circumstances and test ourselves? Remember when I boasted that I will even survive harsh winters, and maybe even thrive in it?

Oh well, it is time for me to take the examination now. I am going to be put to the test. And I know you are watching, maybe even silently snickering. (And that is why I have quietly vowed that I am not going to whine about winter, even if it will stretch out six months long. Heck, I will get some Huskies and go sledding around the neighborhood, or fashion a similar sport.)

I know you will watch closely if I burst into tears not finding my familiar condiments and foods I enjoy.

Or maybe we will all delight in the farmers' market's offerings and make fast friends of the employees at that co-op that everyone seems to be talking about.

I know you will listen intently to my sighs, or even my curses when things do not go smoothly and I just wish there are a few familiar things around so I can just relax and lean back.

Hopefully I will not forget to hang on to my sense of adventure, and together each time I lose my way (yet again) we will discover something new and delightful, or maybe find that there is indeed something familiar.

You know, years ago when I traveled on my own I always went with the notion that there were more good people than bad, and that I will always somehow chance upon a helpful and kind soul. And indeed I had been lucky many times. I still want to believe in that notion, even though I am older now and not feeling as naive. Hopefully, that belief will still act like a good luck charm.

But honestly, you are my good luck charm. You are the comfort that I will hang on to as I learn to relax my grip on the steering wheel. You have no idea how much your are buoying me along. You are why I will rise to the occasion when all I want to do is cower, hide and whine.

To our adventures. Beyond the comfort zone.