To travel or not to travel

Tonight as I was looking around for visa information for my mom who is visiting us in Melbourne in July, I found this blog entry from "The Road More or Less Traveled", a blog by someone named Sarah in Canada. It's particularly interesting because it mentions my hometown of Newton, Kansas and also North Dakota where Mark grew up (although he's from Fargo- not Bismark- let's just make that clear...). Be sure if you're a current Newton resident you read this important press release and do not, I repeat, do not let your grass grow 13 inches tall. Occasionally when my midwestern drawl slips out (like when I pronounce 'dog' as dawwwg) Mark teases, "you can take Becky out of Kansas, but you can't take the Kansas out of Becky". I'm glad to read Sarah's perspective that Kansas is full of nice people and good food, and even though I've never personally been to a Cracker Barrel, or referred to it as "the CB", I have fond memories of going to a restaurant called the Sirloin Stockade (owned by the same Hutchinson based company that has Montana Mike's Steakhouse). It was an all-you-can-eat buffet meat and potatoes extravaganza. They still have one in Hutchinson, but the one in Newton has been gone for awhile.

I think my mom and others in my family still living in Kansas (which is basically everyone except my brothers) are convinced I will forget my "roots" and I don't think they quite understand why I enjoy living in the rainy Pacific Northwest or traveling around (I'm in my thirties now, I should be having babies, right?). Sometimes it's hard to explain. I just started reading a collection of essays called Wanderlust: real life tales of adventure and romance, edited by Don George and published by Salon.com. I wholeheartedly agree with what George writes in his foreward:
"All the journeys we most deeply cherished and remembered were the ones that threw into question- or rotation- our notions of home and abroad, and reminded us that home is fundamentally something portable that we carry around inside us...We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers can accomodate...for me the first great joy of traveling is simply the luxury of leaving all my beliefs and certainties at home, and seeing everything I thought I knew in a different light, and from a crooked angle".
He goes on to discuss the difference between a "tourist" and a "traveler", stating that the "real distinction lies between those who leave their assumptions at home, and those who don't; traveling...stands everything you took for granted on its head...For in traveling to a truly foreign place, we inevitably travel to moods and states of mind and hidden inward passages that we'd otherwise seldom have cause to visit".

In writing a few of my friends since we've arrived here, I've said "there's nothing like moving to a different country with your partner to draw you closer together". I've found that since I don't know anyone besides Mark here, I appreciate him more and am really enjoying the relationship we have. We rely on one another to navigate the streets, trains, and habits here. We also remind each other what we love about our life in Portland, which we miss at times. But I'm glad we're here. I feel fortunate to be here, learning about Australia and about myself (as cheesy as that may sound). As George writes, many "hidden inward passages" have come to light for me since we've been here...my love of writing, my need to be with good friends, my shyness around strangers, my hangups, and my dreams for the future. It is all out there, for me to remember and think about. And that alone is worthwhile.