If you are reading this, chances are you have caught the travel bug. I know I did – it’s how I got “this way”.
What is the travel bug? It’s that ailment that makes you salivate at the thought of heading somewhere, anywhere. It is treated only by hopping on a plane, train, ship, or moving car and treating the madness. This “sickness” does not seem to be a permanent cure for those with insatiable wanderlust.
Where It Began
July 6, 1989… or over 35 years ago. That’s an important date. But, we’ll return to that in a second.
In some ways, I was probably born this way. My parents met in Southeast Asia. Mom was in Laos with the State Department. My dad was – well, *somewhere* in that region. I grew up immersed in other cultures from a very young age. Spending my childhood in Texas with my nose in a book, I was regularly reading about other countries. My fantasy life was vivid, where I was someone else, somewhere else. At home, I ate with chopsticks and tried to teach myself French by listening to my mom’s language immersion records. And I liked my Barbie’s airplane as much as I liked her clothes. I’d pack my play suitcase and imagine I was headed somewhere. The wanderlust was always there – it just needed a match to light it.
Fast Forward
That match was lit during the fall of 1988. I found out I’d been chosen from hundreds of applicants to join a youth delegation visiting the USSR the following summer. I was inspired to apply after following Samantha Smith‘s journey several years earlier. To me, it was the ultimate way to be an international pioneer before adulthood. As it turns out, I was a great fit and selected to be part of a small regional team.
In the wake of Gorbachev’s glasnost (“openness”) movement, a limited number of US citizens were allowed to travel officially to the USSR. Those travelers participated in carefully constructed itineraries designed to showcase the best of the Soviet Union to visitors. By design, we were allowed close, monitored interaction with handpicked Soviet teens. I was ecstatic. It would be the furthest I had traveled and my first significant trip away from family and friends. My travels that summer would take me (via Finland) to Poland, Ukraine, Russia, and Estonia.
And We’re Off
On July 6, our delegation headed to JFK in order to board our transatlantic flight. This was after months of preparation (during which I learned to “only pack what you can carry through a train station yourself”), hundreds of pages of required reading, and two days of intense briefings at the United Nations. At that point, my heart was pounding fast. There was a feeling of something stuck in my throat that I couldn’t describe – anxiety, maybe?
We boarded our Finnair flight, a DC-10, I believe. As soon as the plane was fully boarded, we promptly had a five-hour runway delay. I sat in my center seat towards the back of the coach, what used to be the “smoking section”. Smoking was still allowed back then. I found myself surrounded by many passengers who had decided to start the party early by drinking from their own duty-free bottles.
I was blissfully unaware of frequent flyer miles, which were relatively new at the time. There was no understanding of better seats (let alone business class). I had no privilege, no assumptions. On this trip, I was just a voyager headed out to see the world.
Finally, those engines finally roared to life. We went barreling down the runway, the lights of New York flickering in a speeding blur past our windows. That lump in my throat eased into a feeling of exuberance that relaxed into a sense of homecoming. I’d finally found the place where I belonged.
Travel Bug = Belonging
Ah, that travel bug. It mutates within and changes us. At some point in the future, I would condition myself to believe that it could only be satiated with a first-class redemption, a suite upgrade, or a five-star luxury fix.
But in this case, it’s nice to go back to the beginning. Back to when the smell of jet fuel, coupled with the rev of the engines, was all it took to find the magic. From that point forward, the possibilities were endless.
Do you remember YOUR first time? Share it in the comments!
