So, I leave again…

North Carolina.

Independence. U-haul. Tears. Bus.

New York.

Jasper. Running through Brooklyn. Eating Red Bamboo. High Line. Dumpling house. Pictures of pictures.

New Jersey.

Train. Bus. Airport.

The ground is flying by so fast my head and heart are spinning. it’s blurring and this cabin is so sterile. I want to taste the USA one last time; I want to hear it and feel like it is home and know it will welcome me back with more than promises and empty potential… but I do not.

The world tumbling away. It is slipping, sliding, melting past so fast that I can barely see. I want to claw at it, to grab it and hold on, but it would only slide through my fingers. I want to grab at the window and hold it but it’s going, going, gone . Soon I will be left with only this empty black over an endless ocean.

But tomorrow is a new morning, a new continent, a new world.

Black Belts and Farewells in NC

So, my return to NC has been short lived. My return was not all I had hoped it would be, not the triumphant return but more of a slow meticulous tally of all the things that can go wrong in a life when you aren’t looking. So, it is time to move on again; leave the crash site.

That being said, some good did come of the trip.

I’ve been practicing karate for a number of years. Last year, when my Sensei was sent overseas for military service, I helped out by teaching his younger karate classes. I got to know a number of great kids and help them to gain skill and confidence in the martial way. I taught the kids to break boards, perfect their techniques, and even fight. Wednesday night Fight Club was always my favorite, maybe because of the bruises more than despite them.

This past weekend was a culmination of sorts, when I got to go on a camping trip with them for some training in the woods with my Sensei since he returned. Imagine 3 black belts trying to manage 16 kids for three days in the woods. We had a great time training in all kinds of conditions and I finally was awarded my full Shodan (Black Belt) rank in Go Ju Ryu.

The touching part came when my Sensei gave me hsi personal belt; the belt that his sensei awarded him when my sensei received his Shodan.

I’m sad to be leaving, but I’m excited for what is coming. One day, maybe I’ll be returning to a real life, with a certain special girl and all the promise of family and career and a semi-normalcy. Until then, I am something of a wanderer; a vagrant. Lost.

~The Unyielding Wolf

More from the Land of No…

Miami has welcomed me with open, albeit rainy, arms.

I’ll be staying here for the night at the Crowne Plaza courtesy of American Airlines. I’m eating a leftover southwest tuna wrap from Au Bon Pain, courtesy of my wallet. I’m reading through the Central America Lonely Planet book in preparation of what I hope will finally be my arival there on the morrow.

Coffee is a little hard to come by in Miami International Airport. So is a flight apparently. I saw lines of disgruntled canceled customers everywhere I went. The line for people with problems needing resolution was about 7 or 8 times the size of the line of people trying to get boarding passes and get on their flight. Normally, I would have considered this a bad sign, except this has been my reality for the last 4 days.

I spent the majority of the day waiting in lines at the airport, watching people throw temper tantrums, and being told that other people were sorry. The Miami Hilton was more than happy to tell me to get lost when I requested they throw in an internet connection to complement their lackluster room and old uncomfortable looking bed.

So, I took another trip back to the airport to ask American Airlines to switch me to another hotel with internet. This meant standing ina  400 some odd person line for a while until I was plucked out and sent on over to the short line to speak with yet another person whose accents was almost more than I could grasp.

$25 dollars in food vouchers and 30 minutes later, I was on my way to the lovely Crown Plaza where I find myself in a wonderful room with free internet and a clean, comfortable bed. I’m even on the “Executive Floor,” or so the elevator tells me.

Tomorrow morning I’ve got an 8:30 wake up call and a 10:35 flight. My hotel i booked in Belize for 4 nights is expiring tonight, so we’ll have to see if they have room for me when I arrive. A couple days after that I expect to be diving in the shark laden waters of Blue Hole, then off to the gang ruled Guatemalan border following a walk through the Rainforest Medicine refuge in central Belize.

Miami: The Land of No.

So in the grand tradition of American Airlines, my flight from Miami to Belize City has been canceled. I’m scouring the terminals and I can’t seem to find any cellular service or coffee shop of any size or brand anywhere! Surprisingly there are bars all over the place; literally places that serve nothing but alcohol. I am assuming this has something to do with the number of cancellations.

I’ve been given a $10 voucher to get food, and should be well fed during my next few hours while I wait to see if I will actually be placed on the next plane to Belize City, or if I will be asked to spend the night in their lovely city, Miami.

I’m three days behind so far, but not really freaking out about it as that would solve nothing and probably get me arrested. I’m sitting under a Verizon Wireless advertisement and unable to make a phone call for lack of service.

I have high hopes that something will materialize in the form of caffeinated beverage. Sally forth.

p.s. under gate D35 is a little basement nook with a coffee shop!

False Start

Please see Agent.

These lovely words stared back at me from the kiosk check in screen at American Airlines. They tried to act innocent, but I knew what came next.

I had the flight time wrong for my departure to Miami, and would not be able to make it there in enough time to catch my connecting flight to Belize. The gate agent and I tried just about every possible configuration for getting me on a plane and to Belize, but they just got more expensive by the minute. Finally, with a $175 transfer fee (ACK!) and a 1 day delay, I bumped to the Saturday flight.With a quick call to my friend, roommate, and erstwhile airport taxi, Breezy, I was back home within the hour.

Fast forward 6 hours.

Not one to be caught resting, I attacked a few outstanding items. Tax preparation, various first aid items, returned an extra flashlight to REI, and even had lunch with a friend. About the time I was walking into REI, my phone rang.

“This is American Airlines calling you about a cancellation.”

Not what I wanted to hear.

North Carolina gets snow perhaps twice a year and it stays for 24-48 hours. It almost never totals more than 4 inches and as a devout snowboarder and snowmobile enthusiast, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of the paltry dusting.  North Carolina Natives, on the other hand, Panic. The airport itself is quite capable of handling the snow and functioning properly. The problem and source of the resulting flight cancellation is that people from NC will not attempt to leave their homes if there is snow on the ground and thus will not go to the airport.

So, with no one but myself to blame for missing my flight, I have sentenced myself to two more days in NC before I leave for parts warmer.

Jumping off

Wind in my face, voice screaming in my ear from behind, the count too short to be imposing, I’ve never done anything like this.

3-

What was I supposed to do?

2-

I’m grinning because I don’t understand what comes next.

1-

He doesn’t wait for “go.” I’m thrown from the open plane door into god knows what.

————

That’s alot what I am feeling like right now. On paper, I’ve got a perfectly good airplane comprised of a girl who loves me, a place to live, plenty of toys, money to live on, and friends who enjoy my company and want the best for me. But that’s not enough… or maybe too much.

I’m leaving everything behind, selling most of my things, and heading off into the unknown without so much as the trusty parachute that saw me safely through this the last time.

Kinda hoping I get to say something as cool as this, “I’ve gotten at least one new scar on my body from every country explored.”