Round Trip

The journey half way around the world started off with a huge step in the wrong direction. I began my trip to the Philippines by taking the bus headed north, to Augusta, instead of south towards Boston. It was past midnight. I didn't realize I wasn't where I was supposed to be until I woke up from a two hour nap and the bus came to a halt. The next coach scheduled to leave Augusta was at 6:15 AM. My flight from Boston to Los Angeles was at 7:00 AM. It would take a four-hour bus ride to get from one place to the other. The realization hit me hard: I might not make it in time for my brother's wedding.

But I wasn't the only person to blame. The bus driver, Jim, had taken my ticket without bothering to look at it. I desperately pleaded with him to help me. I had always wanted to see Augusta, but not in this way. Not in a parking lot at one in the morning.

Jim left to call his supervisor and came back with his car keys clutched in one hand. There was still a breath of hope left in my lungs. His boss told him to "learn from his mistakes" and drive me back to Portland, where I could catch the 3:15 AM bus to Boston and manage to catch my flight in time.

Jim turned out to be a nice guy; a family man who lived in Unity, a small town further north from Augusta. At home, he had a closetful of audiobooks from years of driving elementary school kids, tour buses from Arkansas to Colorado and coach liners across the Northeast. Currently on his playlist: the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's narration of "Beethoven's Last Night," a fusion of heavy metal and Masterpiece Theater.

I hopped on the right bus the second time around and got to Boston with enough time to spare. To add to the strangeness of those past few hours, I ended up on the same plane with Khloe Kardashian and her mom.

The rest of my connecting flights to Manila via LA and Tokyo went without a hitch and I finally arrived in the Philippines after over 24 hours of economy-class comfort.

After spending the past two months on a farm in the middle of nowhere with only four other companions, I was overwhelmed by the chaos that is Manila and being in the presence of so many relatives thinking I was still in school. I was in the Philippines for a week-and-a-half to be a godfather at my nephew's baptism and the best man at my brother's wedding. I had hoped for a vacation; instead I found myself stuck in the middle of last-minute wedding preparations and overdosing on meat at every meal after having viewed it as a prized possession on the farm. At times, I missed the simpler life I had left in Maine.

Despite it all, I was glad to have spent time with both sides of my family. I felt extremely happy to see my brother, and especially the kids, who seemed unfazed by the madness that comes along with every wedding these days.