A WELCOME TO AMERICA

To Debbie


My flight from Narita airport to L.A. felt like a time travel. I saw the morning of June 26th twice - once in Japan and the other time a continent away in Los Angeles.

I left Japan on Thursday, June 26th 15:40 PM, spent about 9 hours in the air above the Pacific Ocean and landed 8.40 AM in California. It was still 26th of June, Thursday. Thomas sitting next to me in the plane gave me his bus ticket with $20 on it.

Japan has 16 hours of time difference with the West coast of America. Very tired, I was sitting and sleeping, waiting for my Big Blue Bus in the bus stop.

“It is my first time,” said a lady and sat beside me.
“Me too!” I replied with a smile, “Where do you come from?”
“Sydney. How about you?”
“Japan.”
“You do not look Japanese.”
“I am from Estonia.”
“I have been to Estonia.”
“You have been to Estonia!? Many people do not even know where it is...”
“I I travelled there with my husband when he worked in Moscow.”

The bus came. In these 20 minutes that we travelled together to Santa Monica I told Debbie of my journey, of how I ended up in Japan, of kind people who got me a ticket to come to L.A., of my intention to go to Alaska.

“If you would like, you could stay at my place tonight, get a rest, take a shower and have a fresh start in the morning,” said Debbie.

Of course I liked that.

The house where Debbie lived was in a five minute walk from the ocean. It was a very neat house with a big kitchen, a lot of art, a beautiful yard and all the comfort one may desire.

We went for a walk, for a swim, to the market, to the library, enjoyed several cups of tea accompanied by great insightful conversations. Debbie had lived in many places around the world – it was a pleasure sharing travelogues with her. A good listener, a wonderful companion; did we really meet that morning or had we known each other for many years?

I often get that feeling on the road. A stranger, whom I meet maybe just once and never again, for a short time, very soon feels like my old friend or my family.

I am sometimes asked: “Are you never lonely or homesick, or don't you miss your family or friends?”
On the contrary! I see the world as my home and people of the world as my family. How can I ever become homesick?

On the road or off the road, there is always parting. I like to say that in every hello, there is a good-bye. We meet on the crossroad and then continue – each in his or her own direction. On a journey everything just happens much faster than it would in the everyday.

Good-bye Debbie! Thank you for everything!