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How My Dad Became the Traveler I Once Was How My Dad Became the Traveler I Once Was
(5 days later)
My dad was 51 years old the first time he traveled abroad. He came to visit me in Southern France, on my first trip overseas, at age 20. I was spending a year in Aix-en-Provence, and my dad and stepmom and little brother gamely traipsed around fields of lavender, knocking their heads on the entrances to Lilliputian restaurants and politely not making snide remarks about my new penchant for wearing skirts over jeans.My dad was 51 years old the first time he traveled abroad. He came to visit me in Southern France, on my first trip overseas, at age 20. I was spending a year in Aix-en-Provence, and my dad and stepmom and little brother gamely traipsed around fields of lavender, knocking their heads on the entrances to Lilliputian restaurants and politely not making snide remarks about my new penchant for wearing skirts over jeans.
Then, I was the adventurer, showing them how travel had opened up my life. Now, at age 37, I am the parent, mostly tied to home. And in recent years my dad, at age 67, has unexpectedly become the traveler. He has been temporarily halted by the coronavirus outbreak, but already I am wistful for the time he can move freely through the world again.Then, I was the adventurer, showing them how travel had opened up my life. Now, at age 37, I am the parent, mostly tied to home. And in recent years my dad, at age 67, has unexpectedly become the traveler. He has been temporarily halted by the coronavirus outbreak, but already I am wistful for the time he can move freely through the world again.
My dad didn’t travel much when he was growing up. My grandfather died when my dad was 2 years old, and my grandmother worked full time and raised my dad and his brother as a single mother. As a young adult hoisting himself into the middle class, there was no time or money for travel. He worked nights at Kroger’s in Cincinnati, putting himself and my mother through school while his first child, my older sister, was little. When he and my mother divorced and he remarried, my older sister went with my mom while I moved with my newly composed family unit — my dad, stepmom and just-born baby brother — first to a farm in Indiana, then to Columbus, Ohio, where my dad settled into a job as a scientist at a research institute. For vacations our family went to Michigan, the Great Smoky Mountains, or Ohio’s state parks.My dad didn’t travel much when he was growing up. My grandfather died when my dad was 2 years old, and my grandmother worked full time and raised my dad and his brother as a single mother. As a young adult hoisting himself into the middle class, there was no time or money for travel. He worked nights at Kroger’s in Cincinnati, putting himself and my mother through school while his first child, my older sister, was little. When he and my mother divorced and he remarried, my older sister went with my mom while I moved with my newly composed family unit — my dad, stepmom and just-born baby brother — first to a farm in Indiana, then to Columbus, Ohio, where my dad settled into a job as a scientist at a research institute. For vacations our family went to Michigan, the Great Smoky Mountains, or Ohio’s state parks.
Growing up in Columbus, I fantasized daily about getting out. Not because I wasn’t happy, but because I was insatiably curious and Ohio was — teenage sigh of disgust — so boring. I took the stability my dad had constructed for me and used it to leap: first, a puddle jump across the Midwest, to the University of Wisconsin, then a plunge southward to Lima, Peru. I saved up during my senior year of college for a bare-bones trip across South America, where I spent endless hours on second-class buses and climbed mountains and hitchhiked and did the kinds of incredibly reckless and carefree things I hope and pray my own daughter will never undertake or tell me about. From South America, I moved to Reunion Island to teach English, and from there to Oaxaca, Mexico, and from there to Beijing, and then to Nagoya, Japan. Through it all, my dad biked to work, biked home, sent me letters, listened to my exuberant long-winded dispatches, fielded my sobbing phone calls.Growing up in Columbus, I fantasized daily about getting out. Not because I wasn’t happy, but because I was insatiably curious and Ohio was — teenage sigh of disgust — so boring. I took the stability my dad had constructed for me and used it to leap: first, a puddle jump across the Midwest, to the University of Wisconsin, then a plunge southward to Lima, Peru. I saved up during my senior year of college for a bare-bones trip across South America, where I spent endless hours on second-class buses and climbed mountains and hitchhiked and did the kinds of incredibly reckless and carefree things I hope and pray my own daughter will never undertake or tell me about. From South America, I moved to Reunion Island to teach English, and from there to Oaxaca, Mexico, and from there to Beijing, and then to Nagoya, Japan. Through it all, my dad biked to work, biked home, sent me letters, listened to my exuberant long-winded dispatches, fielded my sobbing phone calls.
In 2014, my daughter was born, and in 2016, my husband and I moved back from Mexico to Pittsburgh, where we have settled — sometimes reluctantly, sometimes uncertainly, sometimes happily. Abruptly, my travel days were curtailed. We go as frequently as we can to Oaxaca, where my husband’s family lives, and take road trips to visit national parks and out-of-state friends. But for the most part we are on our front porch drawing, or hiking in the local park, or at the bagel shop around the corner.In 2014, my daughter was born, and in 2016, my husband and I moved back from Mexico to Pittsburgh, where we have settled — sometimes reluctantly, sometimes uncertainly, sometimes happily. Abruptly, my travel days were curtailed. We go as frequently as we can to Oaxaca, where my husband’s family lives, and take road trips to visit national parks and out-of-state friends. But for the most part we are on our front porch drawing, or hiking in the local park, or at the bagel shop around the corner.
Meanwhile, my dad had suddenly taken flight. Last October, at age 67, he and my husband, Jorge, traveled together to Oaxaca while my 5-year-old daughter and I stayed behind. She had school; I had work. One day in the middle of their two-week trip, my husband texted me a photo of my dad. He was in one of his long-sleeved, butter-yellow hiking shirts and a white Tilley hat, leaning forward on one leg into a massive field of marigolds, waving a hand. He and Jorge were out roaming between villages during Day of the Dead, and Jorge had driven our rusty 1996 Range Rover down all manner of rutted, goat-crowded roads to get to this field. My dad looked thrilled. It was adorable. It was also strange and a little heartbreaking.Meanwhile, my dad had suddenly taken flight. Last October, at age 67, he and my husband, Jorge, traveled together to Oaxaca while my 5-year-old daughter and I stayed behind. She had school; I had work. One day in the middle of their two-week trip, my husband texted me a photo of my dad. He was in one of his long-sleeved, butter-yellow hiking shirts and a white Tilley hat, leaning forward on one leg into a massive field of marigolds, waving a hand. He and Jorge were out roaming between villages during Day of the Dead, and Jorge had driven our rusty 1996 Range Rover down all manner of rutted, goat-crowded roads to get to this field. My dad looked thrilled. It was adorable. It was also strange and a little heartbreaking.
Ten years ago, that would’ve been me. I would’ve sent an email to my dad with a photo of myself atop an Andean mountain, or smiling with Jorge over cafe de olla at a desolate truck stop on the highway to Mexico City. Now, I receive these texts as I simmer rice on the stove, wash my daughter’s hair, fold socks.Ten years ago, that would’ve been me. I would’ve sent an email to my dad with a photo of myself atop an Andean mountain, or smiling with Jorge over cafe de olla at a desolate truck stop on the highway to Mexico City. Now, I receive these texts as I simmer rice on the stove, wash my daughter’s hair, fold socks.
I have come to inhabit the life my dad lived for 40 years: working, raising children, taking care of a house, trying to carve out little moments of grace in the everyday. Like him, I rise early and read poetry. Like him, I take our daughter on long weekend hikes. Like him, I duct-tape whatever and whenever possible, and drive my husband nuts by insisting that our 1974 Kelty tent is in perfectly good condition and why on earth spend $200 on a new tent? Unlike him, I work full-time on my writing, a precarious luxury he never had. In order to do so, and to be a mother as well, I’ve had to cut back on my travel.I have come to inhabit the life my dad lived for 40 years: working, raising children, taking care of a house, trying to carve out little moments of grace in the everyday. Like him, I rise early and read poetry. Like him, I take our daughter on long weekend hikes. Like him, I duct-tape whatever and whenever possible, and drive my husband nuts by insisting that our 1974 Kelty tent is in perfectly good condition and why on earth spend $200 on a new tent? Unlike him, I work full-time on my writing, a precarious luxury he never had. In order to do so, and to be a mother as well, I’ve had to cut back on my travel.
This is a natural transition, more so than I’d like to admit: I am ultimately a cliché, the wild child in her 20s and the settled mom and career woman in her 30s. I am not as exceptional as I once believed. I am much more like my father than I imagined: I’ve always known we were kindred spirits in terms of worldview and political leaning and literary taste, but now I see how much my daily life aligns with his. How much I have fallen into step with who he was in the middle of his life.This is a natural transition, more so than I’d like to admit: I am ultimately a cliché, the wild child in her 20s and the settled mom and career woman in her 30s. I am not as exceptional as I once believed. I am much more like my father than I imagined: I’ve always known we were kindred spirits in terms of worldview and political leaning and literary taste, but now I see how much my daily life aligns with his. How much I have fallen into step with who he was in the middle of his life.
Meanwhile, he has become more of who I was in my 20s, as I discovered myself. He decides to go to Cuba to practice his Spanish. He spends weeks in Mexico with Jorge, and not in tourist Mexico — they visit my husband’s family deep in the mountains, they travel to carnivals in far-flung villages and drink the local mezcal, they stay out into early morning at the cantina with our big group of friends. My dad has learned Spanish and sometimes treks alone to outlying villages, chatting with people, coming back with stories. Last October, he and Jorge headed into a remote Oaxacan canyon to try to spot green macaws.Meanwhile, he has become more of who I was in my 20s, as I discovered myself. He decides to go to Cuba to practice his Spanish. He spends weeks in Mexico with Jorge, and not in tourist Mexico — they visit my husband’s family deep in the mountains, they travel to carnivals in far-flung villages and drink the local mezcal, they stay out into early morning at the cantina with our big group of friends. My dad has learned Spanish and sometimes treks alone to outlying villages, chatting with people, coming back with stories. Last October, he and Jorge headed into a remote Oaxacan canyon to try to spot green macaws.
“I can take care of myself!” my dad announced to me on the phone, feeling guilty about perhaps infringing on Jorge’s precious Mexico time. “I know, Dad,” I said, sounding just like a parent. It strikes me that my dad and I are cycling around one another, that our lives are less the singular, linear trajectories I’ve always assumed, with his as a parent giving way to mine as a child, and more a loop in which parent becomes child and child becomes parent over and over, like the sun and the moon in revolutions and stages, rising and setting in each other’s light.“I can take care of myself!” my dad announced to me on the phone, feeling guilty about perhaps infringing on Jorge’s precious Mexico time. “I know, Dad,” I said, sounding just like a parent. It strikes me that my dad and I are cycling around one another, that our lives are less the singular, linear trajectories I’ve always assumed, with his as a parent giving way to mine as a child, and more a loop in which parent becomes child and child becomes parent over and over, like the sun and the moon in revolutions and stages, rising and setting in each other’s light.
Updated June 12, 2020Updated June 12, 2020
Touching contaminated objects and then infecting ourselves with the germs is not typically how the virus spreads. But it can happen. A number of studies of flu, rhinovirus, coronavirus and other microbes have shown that respiratory illnesses, including the new coronavirus, can spread by touching contaminated surfaces, particularly in places like day care centers, offices and hospitals. But a long chain of events has to happen for the disease to spread that way. The best way to protect yourself from coronavirus — whether it’s surface transmission or close human contact — is still social distancing, washing your hands, not touching your face and wearing masks.
So far, the evidence seems to show it does. A widely cited paper published in April suggests that people are most infectious about two days before the onset of coronavirus symptoms and estimated that 44 percent of new infections were a result of transmission from people who were not yet showing symptoms. Recently, a top expert at the World Health Organization stated that transmission of the coronavirus by people who did not have symptoms was “very rare,” but she later walked back that statement.So far, the evidence seems to show it does. A widely cited paper published in April suggests that people are most infectious about two days before the onset of coronavirus symptoms and estimated that 44 percent of new infections were a result of transmission from people who were not yet showing symptoms. Recently, a top expert at the World Health Organization stated that transmission of the coronavirus by people who did not have symptoms was “very rare,” but she later walked back that statement.
Touching contaminated objects and then infecting ourselves with the germs is not typically how the virus spreads. But it can happen. A number of studies of flu, rhinovirus, coronavirus and other microbes have shown that respiratory illnesses, including the new coronavirus, can spread by touching contaminated surfaces, particularly in places like day care centers, offices and hospitals. But a long chain of events has to happen for the disease to spread that way. The best way to protect yourself from coronavirus — whether it’s surface transmission or close human contact — is still social distancing, washing your hands, not touching your face and wearing masks.
A study by European scientists is the first to document a strong statistical link between genetic variations and Covid-19, the illness caused by the coronavirus. Having Type A blood was linked to a 50 percent increase in the likelihood that a patient would need to get oxygen or to go on a ventilator, according to the new study.A study by European scientists is the first to document a strong statistical link between genetic variations and Covid-19, the illness caused by the coronavirus. Having Type A blood was linked to a 50 percent increase in the likelihood that a patient would need to get oxygen or to go on a ventilator, according to the new study.
The unemployment rate fell to 13.3 percent in May, the Labor Department said on June 5, an unexpected improvement in the nation’s job market as hiring rebounded faster than economists expected. Economists had forecast the unemployment rate to increase to as much as 20 percent, after it hit 14.7 percent in April, which was the highest since the government began keeping official statistics after World War II. But the unemployment rate dipped instead, with employers adding 2.5 million jobs, after more than 20 million jobs were lost in April.The unemployment rate fell to 13.3 percent in May, the Labor Department said on June 5, an unexpected improvement in the nation’s job market as hiring rebounded faster than economists expected. Economists had forecast the unemployment rate to increase to as much as 20 percent, after it hit 14.7 percent in April, which was the highest since the government began keeping official statistics after World War II. But the unemployment rate dipped instead, with employers adding 2.5 million jobs, after more than 20 million jobs were lost in April.
Mass protests against police brutality that have brought thousands of people onto the streets in cities across America are raising the specter of new coronavirus outbreaks, prompting political leaders, physicians and public health experts to warn that the crowds could cause a surge in cases. While many political leaders affirmed the right of protesters to express themselves, they urged the demonstrators to wear face masks and maintain social distancing, both to protect themselves and to prevent further community spread of the virus. Some infectious disease experts were reassured by the fact that the protests were held outdoors, saying the open air settings could mitigate the risk of transmission.Mass protests against police brutality that have brought thousands of people onto the streets in cities across America are raising the specter of new coronavirus outbreaks, prompting political leaders, physicians and public health experts to warn that the crowds could cause a surge in cases. While many political leaders affirmed the right of protesters to express themselves, they urged the demonstrators to wear face masks and maintain social distancing, both to protect themselves and to prevent further community spread of the virus. Some infectious disease experts were reassured by the fact that the protests were held outdoors, saying the open air settings could mitigate the risk of transmission.
Exercise researchers and physicians have some blunt advice for those of us aiming to return to regular exercise now: Start slowly and then rev up your workouts, also slowly. American adults tended to be about 12 percent less active after the stay-at-home mandates began in March than they were in January. But there are steps you can take to ease your way back into regular exercise safely. First, “start at no more than 50 percent of the exercise you were doing before Covid,” says Dr. Monica Rho, the chief of musculoskeletal medicine at the Shirley Ryan AbilityLab in Chicago. Thread in some preparatory squats, too, she advises. “When you haven’t been exercising, you lose muscle mass.” Expect some muscle twinges after these preliminary, post-lockdown sessions, especially a day or two later. But sudden or increasing pain during exercise is a clarion call to stop and return home.Exercise researchers and physicians have some blunt advice for those of us aiming to return to regular exercise now: Start slowly and then rev up your workouts, also slowly. American adults tended to be about 12 percent less active after the stay-at-home mandates began in March than they were in January. But there are steps you can take to ease your way back into regular exercise safely. First, “start at no more than 50 percent of the exercise you were doing before Covid,” says Dr. Monica Rho, the chief of musculoskeletal medicine at the Shirley Ryan AbilityLab in Chicago. Thread in some preparatory squats, too, she advises. “When you haven’t been exercising, you lose muscle mass.” Expect some muscle twinges after these preliminary, post-lockdown sessions, especially a day or two later. But sudden or increasing pain during exercise is a clarion call to stop and return home.
States are reopening bit by bit. This means that more public spaces are available for use and more and more businesses are being allowed to open again. The federal government is largely leaving the decision up to states, and some state leaders are leaving the decision up to local authorities. Even if you aren’t being told to stay at home, it’s still a good idea to limit trips outside and your interaction with other people.States are reopening bit by bit. This means that more public spaces are available for use and more and more businesses are being allowed to open again. The federal government is largely leaving the decision up to states, and some state leaders are leaving the decision up to local authorities. Even if you aren’t being told to stay at home, it’s still a good idea to limit trips outside and your interaction with other people.
Common symptoms include fever, a dry cough, fatigue and difficulty breathing or shortness of breath. Some of these symptoms overlap with those of the flu, making detection difficult, but runny noses and stuffy sinuses are less common. The C.D.C. has also added chills, muscle pain, sore throat, headache and a new loss of the sense of taste or smell as symptoms to look out for. Most people fall ill five to seven days after exposure, but symptoms may appear in as few as two days or as many as 14 days.Common symptoms include fever, a dry cough, fatigue and difficulty breathing or shortness of breath. Some of these symptoms overlap with those of the flu, making detection difficult, but runny noses and stuffy sinuses are less common. The C.D.C. has also added chills, muscle pain, sore throat, headache and a new loss of the sense of taste or smell as symptoms to look out for. Most people fall ill five to seven days after exposure, but symptoms may appear in as few as two days or as many as 14 days.
If air travel is unavoidable, there are some steps you can take to protect yourself. Most important: Wash your hands often, and stop touching your face. If possible, choose a window seat. A study from Emory University found that during flu season, the safest place to sit on a plane is by a window, as people sitting in window seats had less contact with potentially sick people. Disinfect hard surfaces. When you get to your seat and your hands are clean, use disinfecting wipes to clean the hard surfaces at your seat like the head and arm rest, the seatbelt buckle, the remote, screen, seat back pocket and the tray table. If the seat is hard and nonporous or leather or pleather, you can wipe that down, too. (Using wipes on upholstered seats could lead to a wet seat and spreading of germs rather than killing them.)If air travel is unavoidable, there are some steps you can take to protect yourself. Most important: Wash your hands often, and stop touching your face. If possible, choose a window seat. A study from Emory University found that during flu season, the safest place to sit on a plane is by a window, as people sitting in window seats had less contact with potentially sick people. Disinfect hard surfaces. When you get to your seat and your hands are clean, use disinfecting wipes to clean the hard surfaces at your seat like the head and arm rest, the seatbelt buckle, the remote, screen, seat back pocket and the tray table. If the seat is hard and nonporous or leather or pleather, you can wipe that down, too. (Using wipes on upholstered seats could lead to a wet seat and spreading of germs rather than killing them.)
Taking one’s temperature to look for signs of fever is not as easy as it sounds, as “normal” temperature numbers can vary, but generally, keep an eye out for a temperature of 100.5 degrees Fahrenheit or higher. If you don’t have a thermometer (they can be pricey these days), there are other ways to figure out if you have a fever, or are at risk of Covid-19 complications.Taking one’s temperature to look for signs of fever is not as easy as it sounds, as “normal” temperature numbers can vary, but generally, keep an eye out for a temperature of 100.5 degrees Fahrenheit or higher. If you don’t have a thermometer (they can be pricey these days), there are other ways to figure out if you have a fever, or are at risk of Covid-19 complications.
The C.D.C. has recommended that all Americans wear cloth masks if they go out in public. This is a shift in federal guidance reflecting new concerns that the coronavirus is being spread by infected people who have no symptoms. Until now, the C.D.C., like the W.H.O., has advised that ordinary people don’t need to wear masks unless they are sick and coughing. Part of the reason was to preserve medical-grade masks for health care workers who desperately need them at a time when they are in continuously short supply. Masks don’t replace hand washing and social distancing.The C.D.C. has recommended that all Americans wear cloth masks if they go out in public. This is a shift in federal guidance reflecting new concerns that the coronavirus is being spread by infected people who have no symptoms. Until now, the C.D.C., like the W.H.O., has advised that ordinary people don’t need to wear masks unless they are sick and coughing. Part of the reason was to preserve medical-grade masks for health care workers who desperately need them at a time when they are in continuously short supply. Masks don’t replace hand washing and social distancing.
If you’ve been exposed to the coronavirus or think you have, and have a fever or symptoms like a cough or difficulty breathing, call a doctor. They should give you advice on whether you should be tested, how to get tested, and how to seek medical treatment without potentially infecting or exposing others.If you’ve been exposed to the coronavirus or think you have, and have a fever or symptoms like a cough or difficulty breathing, call a doctor. They should give you advice on whether you should be tested, how to get tested, and how to seek medical treatment without potentially infecting or exposing others.
If you’re sick and you think you’ve been exposed to the new coronavirus, the C.D.C. recommends that you call your healthcare provider and explain your symptoms and fears. They will decide if you need to be tested. Keep in mind that there’s a chance — because of a lack of testing kits or because you’re asymptomatic, for instance — you won’t be able to get tested.If you’re sick and you think you’ve been exposed to the new coronavirus, the C.D.C. recommends that you call your healthcare provider and explain your symptoms and fears. They will decide if you need to be tested. Keep in mind that there’s a chance — because of a lack of testing kits or because you’re asymptomatic, for instance — you won’t be able to get tested.
Of course my dad delights in those rutted roads, in the coarse lip of a hand-hewn gourd and the singe of mezcal in the throat, in the mornings when the Mexican mountains are blue and blue and blue and the heart seems to bottom out into something so much larger than itself. He’s my dad. Of course I take my daughter to the meadow after school, saying, look, milkweed, look, thistle, and wow what a big and beautiful oak.Of course my dad delights in those rutted roads, in the coarse lip of a hand-hewn gourd and the singe of mezcal in the throat, in the mornings when the Mexican mountains are blue and blue and blue and the heart seems to bottom out into something so much larger than itself. He’s my dad. Of course I take my daughter to the meadow after school, saying, look, milkweed, look, thistle, and wow what a big and beautiful oak.
I am not so much myself as I thought I was. Neither, perhaps, is he. We both live each other’s lives, parent, child. Here, an afternoon crunching in new snow through Midwestern woods; there, a raucous parade of men dressed as devils and in the middle of them all my dad, grinning, with my face and my freckles, waving from afar.I am not so much myself as I thought I was. Neither, perhaps, is he. We both live each other’s lives, parent, child. Here, an afternoon crunching in new snow through Midwestern woods; there, a raucous parade of men dressed as devils and in the middle of them all my dad, grinning, with my face and my freckles, waving from afar.
Sarah Menkedick is the author of “Ordinary Insanity: Fear and the Silent Crisis of Motherhood in America.”Sarah Menkedick is the author of “Ordinary Insanity: Fear and the Silent Crisis of Motherhood in America.”