One Thousand and One Travels
In July 1994, “tarmac” wasn’t a word I knew. I called it “the magic carpet main station,” as every plane had to start there if it wanted to go for an air ride. I was eleven years old, on my own, and vastly excited as I walked down the jet bridge. Magic carpet would take me from Istanbul to New Jersey, with a brief break in Germany. Once in the United States, a guy I had never seen in my life was going to pick me up and take me to summer camp. I was to spend a month with American kids.
In Germany, airline crew took me to children’s playroom. After a while, I, the shy princess who had never left her palace before, calculated the time difference, checked the flight time, and realized something was wrong. I walked up to the woman in charge and told her in English that I needed to be taken to America.
“Don’t worry,” she said smiling. “You have time.” She checked my ticket and her cheerful smile left her face. She made calls, yelled in German and soon another woman grabbed me by my arm. We ran on long corridors with carpets that had nothing to do with fairy tales.
Then I was on the flying carpet again. The excitement. The giant grin. The anticipation. When the ride ended in Jersey, there was no one around to pick me up. I went to the information desk and asked to announce Jeff Summers – a name I’ll never forget. Within a minute, a tall, handsome Jeff appeared. He looked like a prince; I wished I were older.
Camp opened my eyes. I learned wall climbing. I hiked in the woods and slept in a tent. I saw it was okay for girls to be in tiny shorts and I realized it was okay for a twelve-year old, green-eyed Ethan to ask me out. I learned how to be on my own in the world and how things always turned out fine. Like in the legend, for those who trust, the wind always follows the carpet.
I’ve since been on a plane at least a hundred times. And it still is nothing short of magic. I spent years in the United States. I studied in Spain, then in Germany. I went to Costa Rica for language school. I showed up in Hawaii with no travel plans. I went to Cambodia and saw real poverty. Then I went to Singapore and saw extreme posh. I flew to Latvia, Slovakia, followed by Hungary, then Czech Republic. I went west to Belgium, Luxembourg, and Switzerland. I went to Italy. I visited many cities in Turkey, including poet Rumi’s abode. I attended nights of mystic religious chanting led by women in red veils and red lipstick.
Through many carpet rides, wonder-by-wonder, I absorbed the American zest for life’s pleasures, the Buddhist contentment, the Israeli courage, the European culturedness, the Middle Eastern hospitality, and the Latin American amor… all on the go. Like lovers Aladdin and Jasmine’s song goes: “a whole new world… through an endless diamond sky.” Traveling is personal revolution in disguise. If we want a peaceful world, if we want our hearts to be like diamonds, we must travel.
I’m my spiritually most flexible, clearest self on the tarmac. It is the main station of many tales and it makes me feel strong, hopeful and free. I’ve sat next to religious Iranian men, Orthodox Jews, young people, old people, an opera singer, an NGO person, businesspeople, devout Christians, atheists, punks, veiled women… I’ve sat next to all kinds of wonderful people on the tarmac. I’ve also sat next to my Aladdin.
In our everyday, seemingly non-magical lives, many of us turn money into a convenient excuse. If you want to go, just grab your can-do attitude and go. Work in a farm in New Zealand. Teach English in Japan. Bartend in Costa Rica. Volunteer in Africa. Live in an ashram in India. Ask your company to transfer you to a branch abroad! Just go! Every turn is a surprise.
The world is a boundless place and it is such richness that we’re all so different from one another. The tarmac is the real red carpet and we are all celebrities. Put your best spirit on and get going! What are you waiting for?
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