How to Travel the World Without Leaving Layton . . . Or Wherever You Live!

"Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all people cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends."     -Maya Angelou

Travel . . . the soul of adventure, magic, escape, discovery.

And who isn't thinking escape as the temps drop to toe-curling lows, the mailbox wallows into oblivion, and the car gasps for breath beneath endless drifts? The Caribbean comes to mind, Florida at the very least. Pipe dreams. For local responsibilities demand, the value of the dollar drops, terrorism runs rampant.

Locked tightly in my Layton cocoon, hands to the fire, blankets to the rescue, I settle down for a long winter's nap like the peonies by the front walk. Wake me in late April.

Cousin Bill from Glasgow, Scotland,
connects weekly with Layton vis Skype.

But last week the siren song of travel sang its sweet melody and called me from my hibernation to points . . . near. . . . Scranton and Wilkes Barre. No bathing suits, no sunshine, no aircraft and taxis.

For travel's glory is not only the monuments and mountains of foreign soil. It is people - their food, traditions, music, language, and culture. By this definition travel can happen even to our local city, where coal was king, if foreigners are involved.

And foreigners were the prime focus in last week's travel adventure.

First stop, Marywood College - for "Conversation Corner" with English language learners from around the world who are studying at the school. Afternoon conversation took me to Asia and the Middle East.

My first conversation partner was Zhicheng Zhang (also called Frank). Frank came to the U.S. just two months ago. "Fresh off the boat," eager, and enthusiastic about all things American,  he chose instead to walk the streets of Beijing with me, to remember favorite dishes, to practice his English and my Mandarin, and to reminisce about Chinese holiday celebrations. Frank's studies in health care will prepare him to return to China to "help his country."

Without the aid of technology or transportation, I left China for Kurdistan-Iraq, a Middle Eastern location which I will probably never visit. But Mr. Mohammed brought the country he loves to Northeast Pennsylvania. He, his wife, and children came to the U.S.two years ago so he could obtain a master's degree in public administration. Mohammed will return to Kurdistan at the end of the year to work for his government. War-torn and beleaguered, the Kurds have fought bravely for their country against Muslim extremists. My first Kurdish friend left me with a sweet taste of the courage, strength, and character of the people of Kurdistan-Iraq.

An avid traveler himself, Mark Twain once said, "Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." May I amend your thought, Mr. Twain? "Befriending people from around the world is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." Our world is a hot bed of seething war and strife. What can one person do to make a difference in such a world, especially when travel to some countries is impossible? I suggest that the way to make a difference in the world is to make friends with the foreigners in our own backyards.

These trips to China and Kurdistan were early in last week's travel adventures. Sans jet lag and luggage, I hustled back to China again for the Chinese New Year celebrations. The holiday fell this year on February 18th.

Dr. Youyu Phillips, Keystone College

We heralded the year of the sheep with the Northeastern Pennsylvania Chinese-American Association at the King's Buffet in Wilkes Barre to do what all good Chinese and Americans do on a holiday - eat. Dr. Youyu Phillips, a professor of mathematics at Keystone College, is the president of the association to which I now proudly belong. Dr. Phillips and I met last week for the first time, but we talk every Friday on the phone as she is the Mandarin translator for our "Voice of Hope," blogtalk radio program to Chinese around the world:  www.blogtalkradio.com/voiceofhope

Shiyong Liang and Xiangni Wang,
Keystone students

Another Chinese dinner last week with American friends who have worked with me in China plus a Skype call to cousins near Glasgow, Scotland, and yet another continent, completed a week of rich cross-cultural interaction and friendship. I traveled continents last week, and the only expense was the Chinese buffet. I experienced countries because I experienced people. "My destination was not a place, but it was a new way of seeing things" (Henry Miller).

Passports and visas were  moot issues. 

Flight delays and cancellations, non-existent. 

Food, language, culture, and friendship, abundant and rich,

during the week I traveled around the world

without leaving

Layton.

Shiny Days!

Some days shine.

Not just because the temperature reaches 75, and the sun finally spends an entire twelve hours glowing.

Perhaps the shining has more to do with sensibility rather than meteorology

Today was one of those days.

Could it have been aglow because I spent the day with my 92-year-old father, a pleasure few can enjoy? Dad drives the 700 miles between South Carolina and Pennsylvania on his own, he can walk without assistance, he golfs a mean 46 on nine holes, he hikes a mile every day, he looks 80 - tops, and he can complete a crossword faster than I can read it.

Or was it because we had breakfast out with neighbors? Good friends, pleasant conversation, the richness of relationship building with people we enjoy . . . not to mention the buttermilk pancakes.

Was it the two children in front of me on the airplane who had obviously never traveled before? They grasped their mother's hand on take-off, and when they became comfortable at altitude, they vied for the window to ooh and aah at every stretch of cloud. "Look," the girl gasped. "It's a city!" Unjaded travelers awed by the miracle of modern science.

Or could it have been that magical moment in the arrivals lounge in Wilmington, North Carolina? As we sat awaiting yet another long-delayed flight, I took to people-watching. The young soldier in dress uniform on the sofa cross from us was hard to miss. Over six feet tall and handsome, his demeanor belied his appearance. His fingers tapped endlessly on his knee, on his chin. He wiped his brow. His leg vibrated up and down. I thought perhaps he had just returned from the war; perhaps this was Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. And then a flight arrival announcement bolted him from his seat.

As he stood by the gate and watched the disembarking passengers, his tension grew. Finally, a perky, petite cutie with a crop of curly blond hair came through the gate in her pink and white sundress with a matching bag and sandals. Our soldier quickly wrapped his arms around her, a momentary kiss and a few words ensued, then . . . he dropped to his knee, all six feet of him, and he took her little hand in his. "Look, Dad!" I elbowed him wildly, but he was lost in a chess game on the NOOK. "Look!" By this time the entire lounge had zeroed in on the life moment unfolding before us.

We heard our soldier say, "Will you marry me?" A small box came out of his pocket. Our heroine said, "Yes!" and a ring was placed on her finger. He stood, lifted his arms to the heavens (and the arrivals lounge clientele) and boomed, "She said "Yes!' " Of course, we spectators couldn't get enough of this real life movie scene, and we burst into applause.

The bride-to-be jumped into his arms, and there was a twirling and hugging in the middle of the lounge. More applause. Joy all around.

Quickly, the couple moved off toward the exit. The moment united those of of us frustrated with airplane delays. No doubt, everyone's memories traveled to the day of our marriage proposals, our weddings, or our long journeys since then. And we smiled for the hope of newness and fresh starts and young love.

"She did everything right, " Dad remarked finally surfacing from the NOOK in time to see the action. "She even lifted her leg when he picked her up." A coquette indeed. A magical life moment shared by a room full of strangers.

Or did the day shine because of a special gift? As I sat in the megalithic airport known as Charlotte, awaiting the plane for yet another leg of my journey back to Layton (not an easy place to acess from distant points), I recognized a friend. A rush of joy and excitement always accompanies reunions in foreign arenas. "Cindy!" I yelled, and we hurried to embrace. Our mouths started clattering non-stop, and before we knew it, our flight was boarding. Old hands at travel, we didn't rush the gate but relaxed to wait for our zones to be called.

The clattering and chattering continued and . . .  somehow . . . we missed our call. The door to the aircraft had closed! How did that happen without our knowledge? In unison and before a crowd of hundreds at ten conjoining gates, we banged on the closed door. In hindsight, it was interesting that no security came to stop us or bind our panic. Instead, the gate attendant showed up with a grin. "Why, girls, they had cake at the next gate, and I just had to get me some! You're OK. Here, I'll change your seats so you all can sit together."  So the chattering, clattering, and add giggling to that mix, continued until we reached Scranton . . . where the sun rarely shines, but the friendship glistens.

Some days just shine . . . even when it's gray . . . here on Layton.