Under the Bodhi Tree

As Reo Speedwagon sings: It’s time for me (us) to fly! (We are such children of the 70s and 80s!)

It seemed like this day took forever to come, and then it came way too quickly. The anticipation and the nerves, everything all at once. Are we making the right choice? Did we pack everything? Is it fair to take Bodhi away for the year? Are we gonna be OK without a car? And the stuff we are leaving behind: our friends and family, Pooka the corgi and Johann the cat, the fishies, our house and outdoor space…everything. We were a bundle of nerves. You could tell from how we handled ourselves. Dee, frantically trying to remember everything. Bodhi, a little more hyper. Ira, stoic.

We were lucky to have a friend, Jon Chopan, in town with a car large enough for all our luggage and apparently nothing better to do than to take us to the airport. (Jon is a phenomenal writer. Please go check out his books.)  It was another issue we were happy to check off our list, as Columbus doesn’t really have an airport taxi service, and the ones we contacted never contacted us back.

Airports. We would have to negotiate three. Columbus. New York. London. Because Ira travels a lot, he has TSA Pre-check. Because Ira has it, Bodhi, by default, has it too. Deedra does not.

“Dad and I are VIP,” Bodhi likes to say. “Mom, you’re not.” And we split off into different directions. Because Columbus is small, we got through security at the same time. But airports! Bodhi and Ira–we love them. We walk back and forth along the hallways. Bodhi rolls his tiny piece of luggage down inclines and laughs like it’s the best thing in the world. We stop at shops where Bodhi says he wants a stuffed animal that costs triple of what it usually is and Ira tells him the stuffed animal costs triple of what it usually is and we move on. We eat bad, overpriced pizza and it’s OK because we’re in an airport. We walk through airports in America, like the one in Columbus, and Bodhi says, “Airports in Asia are a million times better,” and Ira says, “Totally.” Usually Deedra finds a place to sit and read.

Travel. This is something we wanted to give Bodhi, this experience of travel, of flight, something we didn’t have when we were younger. We are at a place in our lives where this is possible, and we recognize this privilege we have. We are ever cognizant of it. We tell Bodhi this. To recognize his privilege. To understand how lucky he is to be able to travel, to move freely. He understands. And he doesn’t. Because he’s seven. We tell him anyway.  

Our first flight was to JFK just as the sun was beginning to descend–the light reflecting off the water with the city on the horizon. It’s a short flight, barely over an hour, but the sunset was beautiful to behold, illuminating NYC in all its chaotic splendor.

JFK = chaos. It’s small, cramped, loud, a reflection of some of the city. It’s not Dee’s favorite. Ira is eh about it. Bodhi just pops in headphones and watches his tablet. It’s only an hour layover. Next stop: London.

The flight was about seven hours. Our long flights are usually to Thailand and the longest is about 15ish hours. This hardly seemed like it would be a big deal compared to that. The flight on a nameless airline was not what we expected. We left around 9 PM and thought it would be the perfect time to settle in, get some sleep on our normal schedule, and be ready to go when we arrived in London at 8 AM. When we fly to Thailand, the lights are immediately dimmed to allow travelers to sleep and adjust their internal clocks for the 12 hour time change. We expected the same for this flight. But the lights stayed on. They were on the entire time. The plane was configured in a way that made the beverage carts bang into our legs.The rest of the passengers seemed restless and irritable. Sleep was impossible.

So when we arrived at Heathrow and trekked to immigration, we were exhausted. Sleep deprived. Cranky. Hangry. 

This was the state of the Sukrungruang family when we arrived at our hotel, where our room wasn’t ready because it was too early and Bodhi crying and complaining and Deedra and Ira in a hazed malaise. 

So what do we do?

Dropped off our bags and set off into London. Look out, grumpy family on the tube!