On India: Day 2

Today was the day that my travel companion would be meeting me in Delhi.  Amber would land around 8:00am, need to go through customs and then get to the hotel.  All in all, I was expecting her by about 10:00am.  That gave me enough time for a bucket shower, to pack up my room (I had a king bed for the first night and had to switch to our room with two beds) and get ready for the day.

The timing worked out perfectly as I had just arrived in the lobby to move rooms as she pulled up in the car.  I was a little worried since I hadn't heard from her that she found the driver, but figured she would have contacted me if there were any issues.

Unfortunately, our new room wasn't quite ready, but they let us go back to the room I had stayed in previously.  Amber took a bucket shower, and feeling refreshed was ready to hit the town.  She brought a LonelyPlanet guide book with her so we looked up places for lunch and (once we switched rooms) grabbed an Uber.

One of the coolest and most surprising things about India was the pice of an uber.  What would have cost between $10 and $15 in the states was less than $2 here.  We took an uber from our hotel in Karol Bagh to the Pandra Marketplace near the India gate.  The 20 minute ride was almost exactly $2.

Both of us were quite hungry as my last meal was the previous day's lunch and Amber hadn't had food since the meal service on her flight from Abu Dhabi to Delhi.  We settled on The Chicken Inn, which was mentioned in her guide book and settled in for our first Indian feast together.

The menu did not disappoint in the least.  We settled on an order of chicken tikka malai, boneless butter chicken, palak paneer, two orders of paneer naan and one order of butter roti.  For those who are less familiar with Indian cuisine, let me dispel some misconceptions.  It is spicy, but not hot.  Meaning that the flavors are rich and sumptuous, but not packed with the heat I had been warned about. Side note, I am a total wimp when it comes to spice, often making the joke that ketchup makes me sweat.

The chicken tikka was brought out first and was probably the best chicken I have ever had.  It was produced in front of us on a sizzling plate. The aroma filled our hungry nostrils and we knew we had made the right choice.  After we ate those tender chicken bites, the rest of the food was brought out.  The butter chicken was rich and flavorful.  The palak paneer, which is basically pureed spinach with Indian cheese, was delectable.  Scooping it with the roti or naan made the culinary experience that much better. We actually had to order a second round of naan, just because we had so much food.

When we were totally satiated, we paid our bill and left.  The guide book did mention that this was one of the more expensive places to eat, so I wasn't too surprised at the $50 check.  What I do know is what I ordered would have cost at least $75 in the states, so I still felt good about it.

Following lunch, we walked over to the India gate, which was the memorial for those who fought and died during World War I, during British rule.  Towering well above anything around it, it marks the end of the long avenue that connects to the presidential palace.  If I had to compare it to anything, it would be like the Arc de Triumph in Paris. It was gorgeous.  But the best part about seeing it was the locals who would come up to me and ask for a photo.  I guess they weren't used to seeing a 6'3" 270lb bald bearded American walking around.  I was happy to accommodate their request as long as I also got a selfie with them.

Once we were finished, we headed back to our hotel to meet our tour guide for an afternoon of site seeing.  Neither Amber nor I knew what we'd be seeing though.  We booked a tour and while the tour operator was very communicative with us, the experience has been a little... unorganized.  According to the itinerary, today was a free day on our own.  It wasn't until Amber was in the car to the hotel that she was told we'd be having a tour today.  Not that either of us were complaining.

We set off from our hotel and headed to South Deli.  Our first stop was at the Qutub Minar, a victory tower erected to commemorate the defeat of the locals by an Afghan ruler who had come in to India. I would say more about it, but our tour guide wasn't particularly informative.  He was great at getting us in to the sites and getting our tickets, but was more of a chaperone than a guide.  We walked around the complex for about 45 minutes, taking photos and maybe doing a few model shoots... Don't judge.

Our guide let us know we needed to leave as the next site was closing soon.  We were heading to the Lotus Temple next.  I figured it would have ponds with lotuses floating in it.  I was wrong.  It was a massive structure shaped like a lotus.  Again, if I had to compare it to anything, it was like a more organized version of the Sydney Opera House, with the shells all pointed to the center, creating a gorgeous visual for the spectator.  We did arrive after the temple was closed, but were able to walk around the grounds.  It did not disappoint.

Our guide offered to take us back to the India Gate, but we both decided that we were okay forgoing that since we had been there earlier that day.  Our last stop for the day was at the Indian Cottage Craft marketplace.  It wasn't dissimilar to the bazars I had visited the day before, but Amber hadn't been to a market yet.  We walked in and stopped in the jewelry area.  The gems and stones we saw were breathtaking, but unfortunately I have no occasion to wear anything like that so I passed.

After that, we went to the back of the store where the salesman tried to get me to buy a custom suit.  He succeeded.  I realized that I didn't have any well-fitting suits and needed one for a friends wedding in a few weeks.  So instead of paying $400 for a Joseph A. Banks suit in the US, I paid about $125 for a custom tailored suit made by hand.  It will be arriving to the hotel just before we leave for Agra on day 3.

Amber and I then trekked upstairs where she tired on some Punjabi, which is the traditional tunic worn by many Indian women.  She settled on a forest green Punjabi with red and gold embroidered flowers, and red leggings.  They also sewed on short sleeves at her request.  I'm definitely looking forward to wearing my custom shirts with her in her tunic.

Before I could go back downstairs and get measured for the suit, another salesman talked me in to looking at some art.  Being between homes right now, I figured it would be easy for me to decline acquiring any art.  I was wrong.  I settled on a hand painted native animals that were said to bring goo luck and good fortune to me when I hang it in my home.  I am a sucker for conversation pieces and this was relatively inexpensive so I couldn't bring myself to say no, especially when I take the salesman down from $80 to $20.

After we were all settled up and paid, we headed back to the hotel.  I should mention that Indian custom dictates that the shopper have a beverage while shopping.  The merchants gave both Amber and I a King Fisher, an Indian beer.  Well, they gave Amber one, but I was offered a second since I was quite thirsty...

Back at the hotel, we asked the front desk what we should do about dinner.  They said we could order room service form the restaurant around the corner, so naturally we did.  One order of butter chicken, paneer naan and two more King Fisher's, we had finished our first day in Delhi.  The rest of the night consisted of us watching Schitt's Creek, laughing at one another until we cried, and Amber passing out four sentences in to me reading to her from the guide book.

All in all, a fantastic start to an unforgettable trip.  

On India: Day 1

Day 1: 2/8/20

This trip started out as a consolation for not getting my dram job with the Human Rights Campaign.  One of my closest friends, Amber, had booked a solo tour for these dates.  When I found out that I didn’t get the job I texted her asking if I could join.  She didn’t hesitate to say yes.  I just had to work around the dates of the ticket she already had.  I was very flexible on the scheduling, so it worked well for me!  I just needed to find the best deal to get to Delhi.

I was able to book my flight using my United Miles I had accumulated over the last year or so.  I didn’t want to spend every mile I earned, so I took a rather circuitous route to get here.  Flying on Ethiopian Airways, I flew from Houston to Togo where we had to refuel.  I was able to stay on the plane in Togo which was nice.  It reminded me of my time on the Island Hopper, United’s glorified airbus service that takes people to the states in the South Pacific.  However, the Boeing 787 was significantly more comfortable than the 737 used on that route.  From Togo we headed to Addis Ababa. 

Using miles, I found a decent (not the greatest I’ve ever found though) deal for first class round trip.  I’d never flown on Ethiopian Airways and looked up their Cloud9 business class.  The reviews held pretty true.  The hardware was dated but the service was great.  Unfortuantely from Houston to Addis Ababa they had an angled lay flat seat.  I was able to get a significant amount of sleep an felt semi rested when we landed. 

For my four hour layover in Addis, I went to the lounge there.  I was treated to some fantastic traditional Ethiopian food which included a lamb curry and injera, a sour sponge bread, like if sour dough and a pancake had a baby.  The lounge was a step above waiting in the general boarding area, had free WiFi and food so I was very content spending my time there.

The flight from Addis Ababa to Delhi was a little more comfortable in that the seat was upgraded to a true lay-flat seat.  As this was a red-eye I was worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep much since I did sleep the entire flight from Togo to Addis, but thanks to melatonin, my fears were unfounded.  I ate the simple yet delicious meal of chicken and yellow rice, then promptly passed out.  

I woke up with about an hour left in the flight and changed out of my pajamas back into my regular clothes.  By the way, if you ever are flying more than 5 hours, I HIGHLY recommend packing pajamas and changing for the majority of your flight.  I didn’t feel gross like I had been wearing the same underwear for the last 24 hours.  It’s the little things folks… 

Arriving in Delhi was simple enough.  I deplaned and walked about a mile from the gate to customs.  I had applied for an e-visa prior to departing the US.  Another pro-tip, especially for my millennial friends: always, always, always print out confirmations for anything having to do with customs.  You won’t be able to use your phone in the customs area so if you’re counting on an electronic confirmation, you’re SOL.  

I was through customs and had my bag in about an hour after landing.  I had arranged a car service to pick me up with the tour operator who will be taking us around India.  The driver and I took another 30 minutes to locate one another, but once we did, he was able to get me to the hotel safely, which, for those who have never been to Delhi, is quite a feat.

 

The drive to the hotel was my first true experience seeing what it was I had gotten myself in to.  Amber wouldn’t be getting to India for another 24 hours so I was on my own for the day.  While I have traveled quite a bit by myself, Delhi was an intimidating city for me.  The chaos of the roads, the sheer number of people, and the absolute poverty I saw made me apprehensive for how I was going to spend my first day.  

I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t just waste it in my hotel room though.  Instead, around 12:30pm I headed to Cannought Place, on the recommendation of my step-sister.  She said it was a great place to find lunch and do some shopping.  

I ordered an Uber, which ended up costing $2, and was at Cannought Place in 20 minutes.  I didn’t have a specific place to go so I was wondering.  I must have looked lost (and very American wearing my Mickey Mouse t-shirt), as a local started talking to me.  I was nervous because I didn’t want to be taken advantage of, but this gentleman didn’t seem to be like the street hustlers I’d experienced in Egypt or Morocco.  Instead, he informed me that most of the shops and restaurants were closed because it was election day and folks were voting.  He instead, suggested that I walk a block or so and then take a rikshaw to a market where I can get traditional Indian clothes and hand-crafts.  I wasn’t super hungry and wanted to blend in a little better than I clearly had been, so I hopped in and 10 rupees later, I was at the bazar. 

The bazar was interesting.  It was not dissimilar to other bazars I had been to, in that they had different sections, one department selling rugs, another hand crafts like painted camel bones or papers from the era of the British Raj that had been decorated with elephants or peacocks.  What interested me was the clothing.  After entertaining a few of the salesmen from the aforementioned departments, I made it to the one area I wanted to: clothes.  

Being an American of a certain size, I wasn’t hopeful that they would have anything ready made that would fit me.  I was pleasantly surprised.  However, I didn’t I really found myself wearing traditional Indian clothes beyond this trip so I couldn’t bring myself to buy the tunics I tried on.  However, there were very comfortable, stylish and ostentatious silk button ups that I did see myself in.  

The gentleman helping me mentioned they could make custom shirts if I didn’t like the fabrics, so he took me inside and showed me what they had to offer.  I settled on a bright red and gold paisley and a navy blue floral for two custom shirts.  What I wanted more than clothes howver, was cloth.  

I had walked by gorgeous quilts and wanted to know if they sold cloth for quilting.  He said yes and brought me in to a room full of bolts of gorgeous prints.  I could have easily purchased a meter of every bolt in there, but my budget wouldn’t allow.  Instead I settled on these rich red and cream batiks and a few meters of gold silk.  I am not sure what I’ll be doing with those fabrics just yet, but I am not wanting for ideas.  

On my way out, I stopped and looked at the pashminas.  Since I am traveling with my best friend and we’ll be here over Valentine’s day, I decided to buy her one.  I was also advised by my step sister that it was probably a good idea to get her one just in case we visit more culturally conservative places.  She doesn’t know what I bought her yet, but I’m excited to give it to her!

After making my purchases, I stepped outside to find another rikshaw, as I had been in there for an hour and wasn’t expecting the man who took me there to still be waiting.  But India is full of surprises and he was there.  I hopped back in his rikshaw and asked him to take me to a good restaurant where I could get traditional Indian food.

He did not disappoint.  The restaurant, called Sandoz, was everything I wanted and more.  I ordered paneer (Indian cheese), bhatti chicken and naan stuffed with more paneer.  I felt like I was incepting my food, wrapping cheese stuffed naan around cheese.  It was everything I wanted and everything I needed in my first culinary experience in this incredible country.  And the best part is what would have cost me $40 in the states cost me $12 here.

After lunch, I looked for Vikram, my rikshaw driver.  He was there with another gentleman and a different rikshaw.  He told me that his rikshaw had to go to the shop, but his brother would take me back to the hotel.  I did have to make on stop to get an MacBook air charger since I left mine in the states like a dope.  His brother said no problem and off we went.

We were heading back around 3:30pm which apparently is heavy traffic in Delhi.  The brother said I should go check out these markets and kill some time so the traffic dies down.  I was starting to feel jet lagged but figured saying yes would be more fun than saying no, plus I had nothing else to do.  I also didn’t want to get back to the hotel too soon because I needed to stay up.  So we headed to more bazars.

What I quickly learned is that every bazar I went to has the same type of things for sale.  Carpets, traditional Indian clothing, hand painted or carved crafts, and jewels.  Having just spent a small fortune on cloth, I wasn’t in the mood to buy anything else.  After entertaining the salesmen from the first three bazars, I had to politely but firmly insist we head to the hotel.  Vikram’s brother asked if he could show me a few monuments on the way and I said that was fine.

We went by several landmarks that I have no doubt I will see on my tour of Delhi, including a gorgeous and large Sikh temple, a monkey temple, Parliament and the presidents House.  We also stopped by the India gate.  I’m sure I will describe those more in detail once I have cultural and historical context for them.

After about 45 minutes of site seeing, I was yawning pretty regularly so we headed back to the hotel.  For the rest of my night I stayed in my hotel reflecting on the day I just had and the journey upon which I am about to embark. 

My first impression of this country can be summed in four words: crazy, chaotic, amazing, and wonderful. Despite the poverty and pollution, despite the beggars and stray dogs, despite the overwhelming amount of privilege I recognize I carry with me, I am excited for what I will see, taste, and experience while being here.  

On Island Habitations

I feel like I'm finally adjusted to live on Kwaj.  I've been here for a little over two weeks now and sort of have a routine.  My work schedule isn't set in stone yet, so once that happens I will be able to really get into a daily routine.  Though knowing myself, I will always find a reason to prevent that from happening.  Now it is because my work schedule isn't set.  Once that is set it will be because my pack out isn't here yet and I don't have things I need.  But I want to get in to a routine and have that stability.

The actual island is very interesting.  Each section of the island invokes different feelings for me.  It's sort of separated out into different zones.  Starting on the north part of the island, you have the domes.  These 1960's mid century modern looking domes look like if an ant and a tic-tac had a baby and you lived inside of that baby.... I have yet to go inside one, but I have met some folks who live in them.  They are apparently quite spacious, with the one my coworker lives in large enough to have three bedrooms and two full bathrooms.

As you move south on the island, you come to a few blocks of residential housing.  Housing is reserved for people with specific job titles.  There are several different companies working on the island in addition to the military.  I don't know if this is 100% accurate, but I was told if you're at the director level or higher in my company, you're entitled to a house.  The houses come in two different types.  There are the two story homes that look like boxes stacked on top of one another, or the larger ranch style houses.  Again, I haven't been in a house yet, but I am fine where I am now because the folks living in the houses don't have access to the dining facility.  They have full kitchens so they are expected to cook for themselves.  I'm sure after several weeks of the dfac food I will look forward to when a friend with a house invites me over for a home cooked meal, but as of now not having to cook or clean up after is a gift from god.

Separating the housing from the Bachelor Quarters is the child care center and the elementary school.  The Teen center where I work and high school are located on the northern side of the island, closer to the domes.  You also have Surfway, the only grocery store on the island creating that geographic separation.

I haven't had the need to buy food for myself yet as I have no way to prepare any food in my room, nor do I have any plates, cups or utensils to eat said food with, but I did check out the grocery store just to see what it's like.  It is an odd place.  Because I have most of the creature comforts of home, it's easy for me to forget that I am 4,500 miles away from the US mainland and that we rely on boats and planes to bring us literally everything we need on the island.  Going to Surfway with a friend, I was advised that if I see any food I particularly enjoy, I should hoard it because though we may have it now, we could easily go months without a resupply of that particular item.

The store itself is about half the size of the average CVS in the states.  There are shelves that are fully stocked with things I would never eat and shelves that are completely empty, with only the tags taunting you that you were too late to get the things you want.  Produce comes in twice weekly so you have to time your visits right to make sure you can get the best items before the fluff (the plus ones who don't work but live on the island) get there and take it all.

The pricing of the food is relatively inexpensive to start, but that may be just because I'm comparing it Washington, D.C. prices.  However, when the food gets closer to the expiration date, the have fire sales where they mark it down 75% or more.  If you like hamburger helper, you can stock up for $.45 a box.

By far the best part of the grocery store is the free delivery to your home or BQ.  Typically you tip them $1 per bag, but it is well with it, especially if you don't have baskets on you bike and/or live on the second or third floor of your BQ.  I happen to have no baskets on my borrowed bike and I live on the third floor... I'll gladly spend a few bucks for the convenience.

As you continue moving south on the island, you come to the land of the Bachelor Quarters.  This is where anyone who is unaccompanied or not entitled to a house will live.  Each BQ has its own flavor.  I haven't been in a ton of them, but the layouts of the rooms are slightly different depending on your building.  I am fortunate in that I live in a building where the rooms were originally built to accommodate two people.  Because of that I have extra lighting and two walk in closets.  I have more storage than I know what to do with right now.  I'm sure once all of my stuff is shipped here I will change my tune, but either way its fantastic.  I have one closet for clothes and one for my dive gear and dry storage.

My room itself isn't particularly grand or special, but it is large.  There is an alcove along the back wall that faces the interior courtyard, against which my bed sits.  I have a six drawer dresser, small coffee table and chair and a desk that comprise my living area.   I need to call the furniture warehouse and see if I can get another dresser.  I'm also debating if I want to try to find a couch for my room.  A friend who lives down the hall has a sectional in his room that makes it feel incredibly cozy.

The room is probably twenty by twenty, with the two walk in closets separated by a wet bar.  I have a mini fridge provided or me, and there is a cubby for a microwave should I want one.  Again, not super inclined to purchase one because the more opportunity I have to cook in my room, the more food I'll be eating in my room.  Not only would that slow my weight loss but also increases the opportunity for ants to become my roommates.... And they don't wait for an invitation.

The bathroom is a modest one with a small sink and toilet, as well as stand up shower.  While there isn't a ton of counter space, the medicine cabinet does allow me to store everything I need.  I am hoping to find an over the toilet shelving unit at some point.

I did receive my first amazon order already, which was nice because I had ordered a new shower head.  It makes all the difference in the world, one because I know it is a clean shower head and two I can change the water pressure from a trickle to a firehose.  And considering how much sunscreen I need to wear here, it's nice to be able to pressure wash my skin to get that off after a day in the pool/ocean.

I am really excited for my pack out to arrive because I have my king bed on its way.  I'll have more than enough space for it to fit along with the desired furniture.  I also ordered some lighting fixtures for the room.  The florescent lighting, while functional, may not be the most flattering.  I also plan on making a hanging light feature from drift wood I collected and some remote controlled soft LED lights I have coming in my pack out as well.

Overall I was pleasantly surprised by my living accommodations.  I throughly enjoy my room and love my building.  My window looks west which means I get to see the sunset every night.  I may not have the ocean view like those on the other side of the hall, but I'll take a good sunset silhouetting the coconut palms every night over the occasional sunrise I will be too tired to thoroughly enjoy.

I'll write about the practical places a little bit later, but hopefully this gives a solid idea of the living conditions on the island!

On The Voyage

I've been on this island for two weeks as of today.  There are some things that I won't be able to write about because the nature of my job and the nature of the island, but those things are actually just a minor part of my experience here.  

One of the most interesting I've noticed so far is that no one from DC has reached out to me to see how I'm doing.  I've talked to quite a few people there, but it's always because I check in on them.  I am not upset or angry or even saddened by this.  The last few weeks of my time in DC sort of prepped me for that.  I also think social media has a large part to play in this.  I have posted some picture and shared some statuses explaining how happy I am to be here, so people may not feel a need to reach out.  They think they have the full idea of how I'm doing.  But as anyone who has ever posted on social media knows, we only post our best selves.  

This entry will be sort of a reflection on the physical journey to get here.  I left DC on a Sunday to head to Texas, where I would attend a training (we had to do a bunch of online modules) and get a physical/have some blood drawn.  I would be in Texas from Sunday night to Tuesday morning, after which time I would fly to Honolulu for an evening before making the sojourn to Kwajalein.  

My time in Texas was uneventful until one of my best friends semi-surprised me.  She happens to be from the Dallas/Fort Worth area and her brother happened to be getting married the weekend after I was there.  So when I texted her, she and her husband rearranged their plans to drive up earlier to have one last dinner with me before I left.  They took me to this fantastic open air Mexican restaurant that serves nothing but fajitas and enchiladas.  Anyone who knows me knows that true Mexican food is among my absolute favorite foods in the world, and as much as I may want California to hold up the gauntlet for northern mesoamerican cuisine, I must acquiesce that Texas is the new title holder.  We caught up, laughed and took some pictures.  It is friends like these that remind me how loved I am.

After being overstuffed with cheesy goodness, they dropped me off at my hotel.  I do use the term hotel loosely though.  One of the first things that the trainer said to us in our training was that women should not be in the back parking lot alone and if gentlemen decided to go to the strip club (that was within walking distance), they should be on the lookout for the pimps following them to the hotel because a few weeks ago one of the candidates for deployment was beaten up and robbed while grabbing a smoke in the middle of the night. 

That notwithstanding, I went upstairs and got a good nights sleep.  I had to be in the lobby at 5:00AM the following day to get to the airport to make the flight to Denver before heading to Honolulu.  

I should mention that I made this trip from Dallas to Kwaj with a future coworker.  He and I made it to the airport with some time to spare, so we took advantage of my lounge access and grabbed the free hot breakfast at the American Express Centurion Lounge at DFW.  It was pretty cool, though I was a little sad I was there too early to take advantage of the free massages and manicures they offer. However, I did have a few mimosas to calm my nerves before the flight.

Getting to Denver was no big deal.  Fortunately the United pilot knew how to land the aircraft gently, unlike the American Airlines pilot that basically slammed the plane down as hard as he could on the runway at DFW.  I made a call to my grandmother and my mom, letting them know I was on my way!  It was sort of weird calling my mom from DEN when she was only an hour away, knowing I wouldn't see her for a long time.  

I made the decision to upgrade my seat from economy to first class on the flight from Denver to Honolulu.  I can safely say that was probably the best decision I have made in the last month.  I was able to lay flat and actually get sleep.  I watched some TV, ate the surprisingly edible food United served me and didn't feel insanely tired when I landed in Hono.  

While at the airport, my coworker and I had little direction from our employer as to where to go or what to do.... So after waiting about fifteen minutes, we realized we needed to go to the shuttle counter and order our own since no arrangements were made for us.  Not a big deal.  But then we waited around for an hour until a shuttle would take us to our hotel.

Fortunately, our hotel was in Waikiki.  At check in, I was talking to the incredibly friendly front desk agent and let her know it was our first time in Hawaii (only sort of true, but it was my first time in over twenty years) and that I owned a travel agency back in DC.  She gave us both complimentary upgrades to higher floors and a room with a king bed. 

When I landed in HI, I opened up FB and saw that an old coworker from my last job before starting my company was also in Honolulu.  Turns out she was staying at a hotel about a quarter of a mile away from me.  So I texted her and she was free for dinner!  We grabbed drinks and burgers at Dukes on Waikiki beach.  We caught up about all of the things that happened in our lives over the last two years.  She had gotten married, switched jobs a few times and was doing really well.  I hadn't really had much happen in my life save for this new adventure. 

But it was a surreal moment.  I had said my goodbyes to the people in my life when I left DC.  I wasn't expecting to see anyone in Dallas let alone Hawaii.  But I am so thankful and happy that I got to see people along my trip to my new home.

We had another early morning the following day, so I think I was asleep by 9:00pm.  When we arrived to the airport the next day at 5:00AM, the first thing that struck me was how open air the entire airport was.  I guess that you can do that when your average temperature doesn't get below 72˚F.  

We checked in for our flight and headed over to the gate area.  It was under construction and there wasn't much sitting room, but my coworker and I found a spot and hunkered down.  I asked the gate agent about another upgrade and she let me know I was first on the list.  Having status on United finally paid off because I was able to snag a business class seat from Hawaii to Kwajalein through our stopover in Majuro.  It was a long flight but no longer than flying DC to LA so I was comfortable.  

I didn't get off the plane in Majuro but some folks did.  I had wifi on the plane and a window seat so it was easier to stay on board than climb over the gentleman next to me.  

After about twenty minutes, folks re-boarded and we were off to Kwajalein!  

On Moving to the Middle of Nowhere

My journey to this island has been interesting.  I was recruited by a friend of mine through California Youth & Government.  I remember messaging her saying I wanted to come visit and asking how that was possible. She told me, but she also told me I could come work on the island.  I laughed at that idea.  I had my own business in Washington, D.C. that was thriving, and while going to live on a tropical island far away from the cares of the world sounded wonderful, it wasn’t realistic.

The more I saw of her life via photos on the island, the more I entertained the idea of actually moving here.  It wasn’t until late July of 2018 that I listen to my gut and told her I wanted to apply for whatever position at which she thinks I would excel.  

I am not a religious man.  In fact, I really don’t like organized religion.  But, and I’m sorry for the lazy writing, but I truly do feel my life has been blessed.  I have been at the right place at the right time too many times in my life to make it just coincidence.  Yes, there is a fair amount of privilege in that sentence.  Of that I am well aware.  However, ever decision that has led me to be here has been because I made the right choice with the decision before that, and before that, and before that. I’m not saying there is a God or a god that has intervened in my life, but I fully believe the universe was telling me to seize this opportunity, as it had in the past with other choices.

See, in May of 2018, after returning from Munich and Rome, where my grandmother unfortunately broke her hip and we had to return via air ambulance, I take a few steps in to my room and the carpet squishes under my foot. I’m still unsure what exactly happened in my three weeks away, but that room was uninhabitable.  Fortunately, I could sleep in the second bedroom in my apartment.  That is, until one fateful night in July when the downspout along the side of my house broke and the water drained right in to the window well of the room where I was sleeping.

After that night, I moved in to a hotel for a few weeks.  While there, I realized that I needed a change in living quarters.  My apartment was and is a fantastic gem in one of DC’s most iconic and historic neighborhoods, but I knew the universe was telling me to find something else.  And the more I took stalk of my life, the more I realized that I really did want to move to an island 7,000 miles away from the life I had built and with which I had come to be familiar. 

I interviewed with my friend who was on island, and two women who would, as I found out today in my training, would be my direct supervisor and her boss. The interview was short and I felt confident.  Later my friend told me they had made up their mind to hire me after the first question. 

There were several organizational changes going on on Island so I knew it would be a little while before I got here.  I didn’t think it would take almost five months, but it was out of my hands. 

Eventually I would make my way to Texas for a company orientation, physical and to have some blood drawn.  After about 36 hours in Texas, I was on my way to an Island in the middle of the south pacific.  I knew it was an adventure I that would change me.  I am still not sure how it will, but every time I’ve done something like this, I have come back a humbler, more appreciative, and more confident person.

The folks I’ve met here have been so welcoming.  My team threw a welcome barbeque the evening I arrived (I arrived with another person who is working in my department) to introduce themselves to us. My direct supervisor met us at the airport and spent the afternoon showing us around the island.  She also checked on both of our rooms to make sure they were in the proper habitable conditions (which if she hadn’t done, may not have been the case).  

I think the reason I am not overwhelmed by loneliness or a sense of the sheer change I have just made is because I feel supported.  When I moved to Nice for a summer in high school, I was shipped off to France without knowing a single person on the continent.  When I moved to Paris, I knew a few more people in Europe, but was still incredibly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the city, of the fact I wouldn’t be coming home for months.  But not moving here.  I have a routine, I have housing, I have a steady source of food (that I don’t have to cook myself).  I can start enjoying this gift I have been given from day one.  I don’t need to waste my time stressing.

I have high hopes for my time on the island.  

On New Years Eve

Upon reflection, New Years Eve is an excellent metaphor for my overall experience in Washington, D.C.  

For the last several years a friend from the chorus would host a New Years party.  It was one of the first social events I attended as a new member of the chorus.  I remember thinking how much fun it was to celebrate New Years with such a wonderful group of people.  I've always had high expectations for New Years Eve, only to never have it turn out as I would have liked.  Whether it was the New Years Eve house party in high school I had to take a taxi to because I wasn't old enough to drive and no one in my family was around to drive me, or the time that I went to dinner with my Dad and Step mom only to be in bed by the time the ball dropped.  

Well, after reaching out to the friend who usually hosted the party, I learned he wasn't doing it this year.  I totally understood and was thinking of what I'd do on New Years now, as I didn't have any plans.  I had talked with another friend and wanted to spend the evening with him.  I even changed my flight coming back to DC earlier so I would be able to ring in the new year with him, knowing it would likely be one of the last times I would hang out with him.  

I decide to throw my own.  I did this for a few reasons.  The first is I hadn't had a chance to host my cookie exchange this year, so why not do it on New Years Eve?  Secondly,  I am not a fan of packed bars and overpriced cocktails.  I've always enjoyed house parties far more than going out.  And thirdly, if I didn't plan a party, I wasn't sure I'd actually have any plans that night. 

I wasn't aware of any other conflicting parties that night and wanted to see as many people as I could, so I started my party early.  I said folks could start dropping by as early as 5:00PM.  A few did, though knowing DC and knowing gays, I wasn't really expecting a majority of people until 6pm or later.  And to my delight, my house was crowded with wonderful friends starting around then.  

But I knew it wasn't going to last until midnight, though I had originally hoped it would.  Earlier that day, I received an invitation for a New Years Eve party that was being hosted by another chorus member and his boyfriend.  I knew that my party wouldn't be able to compete with theirs, as a few people had changed the RSVP on FB from attending to Maybe, only to have their RSVP reflect Yes on the new invite.  

So I messaged one of the hosts.  I asked when they decided to host their party.  After a few minutes, he responded saying it was relatively recently.  I expressed my disappointment that they were hosting a competing party the same night as mine, as I was hoping to host people through the ball drop.  He made some platitude, expressing that their timing wasn't malicious and that he hoped I'd be able to come.  

So 9:30PM on New Years Eve rolls around.  We had run low on alcohol, so I called and ordered more.  I was happy to have my friends around me, celebrating new beginnings and hosting one last hurrah.  Thats when folks started saying their goodbyes.  I can't say I was surprised, but I was disappointed.  I was sad.  I was upset.  I wasn't enough.  They had another party to go to.  They wanted to go somewhere else to ring in the new year.

I was fortunate that not everyone left.  There were a few folks who arrived late and stayed later.  They folks who stayed weren't the folks I expected, but it was wonderful talking to them and spending time with them.  

But the part that hurt the most was the friend I had changed my plans for.  He arrived around 9:00PM (he had to work that day and has a long commute so I get he couldn't get there early), but he left my 10:00PM.  When I saw him get his parka, I was sort of surprised.  I asked if he was leaving and he said yes.  He was meeting one friend, and then going to meet another.  We had talked about our New Years plans pretty extensively and he hadn't mentioned that he had other stuff to do.  If I had known, I honestly would have just gone where he was going instead of planning a party at my house.  

The stragglers that stayed late were yawning by 11:15PM so they decided to pack up some of the cookies and head back to their houses.  I was alone on my bed and happened to see my computer clock flip from 11:59PM to 12:00PM.  

That's how I feel I'm leaving DC.  I don't think I am disliked.  In fact quite the opposite.  I feel like I am relatively appreciated when I'm there.  But I don't feel I will be missed when I'm gone.  I don't feel people will notice the lack fo my presence.  I have loved this city for all its given me.  I have enjoyed most of the relationships I've made.  But leaving has opened my eyes to how I am seen.  I am someone who is not sought out.  I am someone who is natural in the lives of his friends.  I am someone who would consider acquaintances friends, when the opposite would be true.  I am sad to leave DC this way.  But I'd rather leave DC thinking that I am liked than stay and realize that may not be the case.  

On Friendship

Friendship is a difficult concept to write about.  There are so many types of friendships.  And so many questions surrounding it.  When does someone become your friend?  What keeps them a friend?  How long will you consider them a friend?  

As I prepare to leave the city I have called home for the last six years it has gotten me thinking about the nature of my friendships here.  Looking back over my tenure in DC, I have come to the realization that there are people in this city that I know I will always be friends with.  Before I became self employed, the easiest way for me to meet people was through work.  Ironically, two of my closest friends in DC and I met through the hotel where we worked, but didn't socialize until two of the three of us were no longer there.  When I worked at the Advisory Board, I made sure to organize happy hours for the folks at my level so we could become friends.  I'm proud to say that as a result of one of those happy hours (and a little meddling from myself), two of my coworkers are engaged to be married.

But everything changed when I left an office and started working for myself.  I didn't have the luxury of walking by someones desk and making small talk.  I would sit at home and isolate myself, burying my head in research for the tours I was creating.  I was invited to happy hours with my old coworkers for a while, but as time stretched on, so did the length of time between invitations to those happy hours, until they stopped all together.  It was natural.  We drifted apart, both physically and metaphorically.  Several coworkers moved out of the city.

You always hear people talking about how difficult it is to make friends as an adult.  If you're not in school or work from home, there aren't that may avenues that open themselves to the possibility of any platonic connections.  Fortunately I had a hobby that necessitated being around other people: singing.  Right around the time I started my company, I had joined the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington, D.C.  This was the first time I would have more than a handful of platonic gay friends.  

I auditioned for the full chorus and one of the smaller ensembles, and was fortunate to make both.  Being in the small ensemble, being new, and being young, I felt very special.  It took me a little while to sort of navigate the personalities of the chorus and to find where I fit in.  Around Christmas, I had settled on my people.  I remember that first winter break, two of my new friends and I spent a marathon 48 hours together, having a sleepover at my house.  I had never had friendships like that before. 

But as time wore on, as new people joined the chorus, and as we all grew and matured, things changed.  Some people moved away.  Some people pursued other circles.  Dynamics in a social organization are constantly fluctuating.  The culture was changing.  And I no longer knew where I fit in.

I took a step back from the chorus.  I sang one concert a year instead of three.  I was focusing more on my work, I would say.  I didn't want to let anyone know I was struggling to find my place.  I didn't want to come across as needy.  So instead I continued to isolate, hoping, praying that someone would reach out to me and include me.  

There were a core group of people in the chorus I felt truly connected with.  They were the ones to notice I wasn't around as much and reach out.  I would be included in brunches, in parties, in invitations to karaoke.  I don't think they will ever really know how much their invitation meant to me, especially at that point in my life.

As I prepare to leave, I am taking a look at my relationships and evaluating them.  People say that things won't change even though you move away.  They are wrong.  Things fundamentally change.  It takes a lot of time and effort to maintain a relationship, especially when you won't or can't have the ability to be in close proximity to that person.  I also know that I am choosing to leave.  I am making a conscious decision to move 7,000 miles away.  Things will be different from me.  

The impending departure though, has given me clarity.  I look at the people in my life and know that there will be the people that do make that effort.  When I feel alone or left out, I just remember that I am lucky enough to have close friendships with people from every point in my life.