Challenges of Not Being Home

I’ve only been doing this for a month.  I have a good two or three years of this travel schedule, although perhaps not quite as grueling on every project.  But in just the month I’ve been traveling so far, there are a number of things that I am noticing already.  One thing that has been hard, and unexpectedly so, about being on the road so much is how dirty my apartment gets.  Before I went on my first trip for this job about a month ago, I did a thorough cleaning of the apartment, making sure that everything was put where it belonged.  But each trip home, I drop something on the kitchen table, or let me suitcase spill out over my bedroom.  Mostly it’s paper.  Getting your mail once a week, versus daily, is a little bit overwhelming, and I end up leaving paper everywhere.

But probably the biggest challenge is that life doesn’t stop while I’m gone.  Friends continue to hang out.  Nieces and nephews continue to do really cute things that I now mostly see on Facebook.  But I am a social creature.  More than most, I think.  So when I come home, I try to cram a week worth of life into about 36 hours.  And it is exhausting.  This past weekend, I was away from the airport from 1am Saturday morning until 1pm on Sunday afternoon.  In that time, I drove to and from the airport economy parking lot, slept a total of 14 hours, had people over to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, walked to a parade, found my dad, brother, sister-in-law, et. al. several miles from the parade and went to professional soccer game including an extended tailgate, spent several hours with two of my best friends at their new apartment, did laundry, went to church, and had lunch with my family.  I may have to start making choices.

The Joy of Traveling

It’s a sentiment people toss around sarcastically.  Those of us who seem to live in a strange combination of hotels and airports often lament how awful air travel has gotten.  And in many ways, we’re right.  I remember flying when I was a kid and it was the fanciest thing we did as a family.  Mom dressed A and I up in church clothes (matching, she said, so that if one of us got lost, she could tell the authorities, “He looks just like this one, except bigger/smaller.”  I’m not sure what the plan was if we ran off together…) and once you found your spacious seat on the plane, the stewardess would come by and see if you needed a blanket or pillow.  If they weren’t pressed for time, they would offer drinks before the plane took off.  Once you got off the ground, she would come by, first to offer a drink, but then AGAIN to offer a meal.  There was never a rushed, chaotic feel.  Nobody was ever rude or harsh.  My knees, albeit the knees of a child, did not grind into the seat in front of me.  And this was just the late 80’s and early 90’s I’m reminiscing about.  Hearing my grandfather speak of traveling in the 50’s and 60’s sounds downright luxurious.  So yes, we are right; air travel is not what it once.

But we’re flying.  We are in a giant metal tube above the clouds.  There are clouds below us.  We are a mere two or three generations from that being unfathomable, except perhaps on top of mountain with the ground firmly beneath your feet.

Today has been a stressful travel day.  I am slightly worn down by the aggressive schedule I’ve been keeping and am not refreshed by the lack of a light at the end of the tunnel.  I almost missed my flight.  Several airline employees were less helpful than they may have been.  Texting back and forth with dad, I tapped out the phrase, “Oh, the joy of traveling…” Yet as I sit 30,000 feet above the earth, moving at some 500 miles per hour, I can’t help but feel a little bit lucky.  But, then, the top of clouds always calms me and makes me ever so slightly reflective.

retracing footsteps

Today, I had the day off, so I drove down to the Florida Everglades, a national park where I have spent nearly a month of my life.  It is an incredibly challenging, unique, and beautiful environment.  I visited a part of the park I'd never been to before and was really amazed at how different it is, only miles away from the part of the park I'm more familiar with.

I went on a couple of short hikes through the north side of the park.  The trails were pretty civilized, especially in comparison to the rugged Outward Bound course.  But the path did go by some really interesting things.  Like this tree that was being strangled by a vine.  WHAT?!?

One of the things that is great about spending a day in The Everglades (as opposed to two weeks) is that you can stay relatively clean.  This is the view from a boardwalk that went out over the water for a ways.  This looks more like The Everglades I know.  It was fun to watch the tourists gasping at alligators and being in awe of how immense nature is out there.  I remember counting alligators on my first day in The Everglades being a little bit in awe myself.

This is Coot Bay Pond, the end of my first Outward Bound trip.  I remember getting out of the water and literally falling on the solid ground and being so exhausted, proud, and sore.  This was actually a fairly emotional moment for me, standing here today.  The Everglades have been a purifying fire, of sorts, for me.  Both times I ventured out, I came back a slightly refined version of myself.  I still lean on the lessons learned in these waters when I come against a challenge today.

Mangrove trees are kinda awesome.  

South Beach

I'm not really sure what format this will take over the long run.  For now, there are plenty of stories about things done in Miami.  This is my third week in Miami with this client, and it is the first week that I have had the time and the energy to actually get out and see the city.  Probably the most interesting part of the city I've been to so far is a place called Lincoln Road in South Beach.  It is a mostly pedestrian street that has shops and restaurants jam-packed on it.  Several of my trainees had told me its a great place for people watching, and it doesn't hurt that its right next to the beach and there are great restaurants everywhere.  I went down with a couple of coworkers and I couldn't have asked for better people watching.

Miami is a very diverse city no matter where you are.  But on this block, there were young families and old couples.  There were huge macho dudes with their girlfriends on their arms and then two guys walking down the street holding hands.  More races than I could begin to keep track of, and socio-economic status seemed to range from the very wealthy to the very homeless.  I love neighborhoods like this.  It's why I love my neighborhood in Kansas City so much.

While I enjoyed the conversation with my coworkers, I have to admit, I wasn't really paying 100% attention.  Maybe 75%?  I just couldn't stop watching all the different people walking by, being kind of amazed at the crazy clothes or shoes they were wearing, or the bizarre style they wore their hair.  We also had a really drunk guy come up to us and ask if we could pay his $40 bar tab because he couldn't afford it.  We said no and then he mumbled something about "Oh well, I tried..." and just kept walking down the sidewalk.

After dinner, we kept walking east, and finally hit the sandy beach.  By this time, it was dark out, but there were a number of people running around on the beach.  Strangely, as much time as I've spent on beaches in my life, I don't think I have any strong memories of being on the beach at night.  It was eerily quiet, especially since I usually associate beaches with laughter and yelling.  I hadn't yet touched the ocean, so I made my way towards the water, at which time a huge wave crashed and soaked my pants up to my knees.  It was a long walk back to the car, but it felt good to have salt water on my toes again.

Now that I'm blogging (which, by the way, just sounds cheesy to even say in my head - "I'm blogging." Ugh) I will try to take more pictures of the things I do so that I can post them on here.  Pictures are probably more interesting, if I ever decide to post blog posts, and will help me remember where I've been as I look back on this in the future.

Tomorrow - I'm visiting The Everglades.  Get excited.

The "new blog" post

I'm not going to lie to you - this isn't the first blog I've started.  I tend to get really excited about some topic, and am always excited about the prospect of being a writer ... so 1+1=blog.  And then inevitably, life gets busy and I forget that I even have a blog.  Usually, I'm reminded when I try to comment on somebody else's blog and I log into my blogger account.  There it is, my poor neglected little blog.  So, all of this to say, who knows what will happen with this blog.  It may go on to become my life's great work.  Or I may never post again.  No promises.

So, here is the premise.  I work as a trainer for a large company based in the midwest.  Where I work and who my clients are isn't really the point of this blog.  While I really enjoy what I do, the really awesome part of my job is that I travel all over the country training clients.  I work hard during the day, and sometimes at night, but then I get to enjoy the current city at night.  My goal is for this to become a place where I can reflect on the things I've seen and the experiences I have on the road.

The name of the blog pays homage to my most recent career.  For not so very long, I was a middle school teacher.  I was very idealistic about why I wanted to teach, especially because I chose to work in a failing urban charter school.  What I discovered was a corrupt system that favored families and friends of decision-makers over the interests of children.  I received no support from my administration and found myself being the teacher I always hated - yelling and angry.  I wasn't doing any good for my students and I definitely wasn't doing myself any good.  I began reconsidering my options and decided to go corporate.  In those rare moments as a teacher when I actually got to TEACH, I loved it.  I have found few things in life that produce more of a rush than seeing somebody struggle with something and then finally [poof!] and it clicks.  Working as a trainer seemed like a good way to still teach, but not deal with the crazy of being in a school.

So, I looked for training jobs, applied, and here I am.  In Miami.  Seriously.  I am essentially living in Miami, enjoying all the sights, sounds, smells, and most importantly tastes of this beautiful city.  So, come back and check out the blog for stories, pictures, and very profound [sarcasm] insights about life in transit.