I haven’t lived in one place for a full year, for the past 4 years.
Someone asked me how it’s been. Moving between Manila and New York... It’s been great. But also a little loopy. I told them I felt like Alice in Wonderland, drinking one bottle to make her tall, one bottle to make her small, in order to fit in whichever door she needed to go through. So I’ve been drinking “Manila, New York, Manila, New York.”
I noticed that I have this need to “close” a trip to help me say goodbye. It’s the need for paalam I guess. The weeks before a departure, I have this jolt of okay, what’s my priority. Big picture review. What am I going to say yes and no to. What am I doing my last weekend. What am I having for my last meal.
The paalams have ranged from both internal and external. In Manila, I’ve done things like okay, this is going to be my last swim. I’m going to treat myself to a Healing House session. Or once I asked my friend to do a private meditation for my family at home. All the time, I’ll have a meal where I try for my family to be complete. In New York, usually my last meal will be Halal Guys on 6th Ave., just because it’s so quintessential. My last week is usually when my groceries are running out; so I’ll buy a rotisserie chicken ‘cause I don’t have time to cook. My last week is when I’ll return the books I borrowed from the library. And make sure that shopping orders from people back home have arrived. I’ll have a yearning to eat my favorite food. I got the seasonal lime tea cookies from TJ’s this week. And the $13 tiramisu cake of Whole Foods which I can finish on my own hee hee. Upon arrival in Manila, my mom will always ask, “what do you want prepared?” And my request is usually pork sinigang or daing na bangus with maalat na itlog. That salty Filipino taste that I miss. And a meal that only works when paired with rice.
It’s 1.30 AM here and I can’t sleep. My whole reality is going to change again.
When I’m about to go on a big trip, I’m very aware of the weight of it. Maybe if you’re a really frequent traveler, you tend to overlook the implications of travel. But going on a plane means chance of death, chance of getting stranded somewhere, chance of not making it home. I always purchase travel insurance because of this. When I saw Argo, I got knots in my stomach; thinking of how fucking lucky those guys were and how we tend to take for granted boarding times that don’t require risking your life. If I am about to book a long haul flight and there is an option to choose a layover, I always consider how I feel about the country of layover. If it’s not somewhere I am not familiar or comfortable with, I don’t take the chance and just get a direct flight. You just need to lessen risks of you getting diverted from your destination.
So here I am. Two days before my departure to Manila. I have no plans of seeing any more friends. I hosted a dance class last Saturday because I really needed to celebrate this past trip, and transition to the next. I remember watching Beauty and the Beast as a kid and Belle was crying saying “you didn’t even let me say goodbye! I’ll never see him again! And i didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
Whatever helps you say goodbye—do it, close it, so you can open again.