Home Sweet Home

We took our last view of the Potala in Lhasa from the roof of the Jokhang temple. It was perfectly lit against a cloudless sky. The hills surrounding Lhasa were green and brilliant. In the temple courtyard below us, all the butter lamps were lit and pilgrims were filtering toward the temple doors for their inner kora routine.

Our routine, as must as we had established one, was to circle the roof top, gaze out upon the square and then make our way down the steep staircase and over to our favorite restaurant, Dunya. After our meal, we sat reading National Geographic magazines and listening to American CDs. It seemed appropriate since within a week we would be back in the States. (We needed to familiarize ourselves with English again.)

Our flight from Lhasa to Beijing was great (on board a brand new Airbus 340). It seemed when we landed that perhaps the two days that we were giving ourselves in Beijing would be barely enough to get all of our errands completed.

It always seems that when we return from abroad, our list of things to do is enormous - sort through mail, dispute all the bills that are wrong, turn on the cable, the phone, the mail... That list seemed to be waiting for us while we were still in China - buy airline tickets, do last minute shopping, meet a friend for lunch, go to the bank.

"John, does this feel more like we're leaving on a trip than returning?"

Maybe going home IS another trip. These days we seem to spend as much time on the road as in our Boston apartment. I figure that going home is just another adventure.

Thank goodness that our flight was not adventurous though. It was dull and boring as any thirteen hour trans-atlantic flight should be. John had caught my stomach bug and spent as much time in the bathroom as in his seat. (This won't be one of his fondest memories of the trip.)

A meteorologist that we met at the airport told us that he flies back and forth all the time between China and the USA. He never sleeps on board and he is on call 24-hours a day. I wish that I had his stamina. Thirteen hours of air travel left me disoriented (lunch at midnight, dinner at mid-morning, breakfast at least twice a day). For two nights I couldn't sleep past 4am.

But we've got our internal clocks adjusted now. We're back in Boston safely, and, oh, I'd give us about one week before we turn to each other and say, "Where do you wanna go next?"