Ten years ago today

Ten years ago today, Kate and I were in the midst of our favorite trip. Ever.

A rock sculpture in downtown Shanghai.

On August 14, 2004, our itinerary took us to Shanghai, China. We had arrived in China a couple of weeks prior, spending a few days in Hong Kong. Over the course of a month, we zigzagged and hopscotched north-ish. A few nights in Yangshuo amidst the karst mountains, a night in massive and industrial Chongqing, a couple of nights on a river cruise floating down the Yangtze River, and so on. Rickety buses, puddle jump flights, cattle car train rides. Shanghai. Xi'an. Pingyao. Beijing.

I have mentioned before that our travels in China were a perspective altering time for me. It wasn't a matter of being my first overseas trip, nor a first long trip, nor even experiencing a markedly different culture. I had crossed oceans before, spent multiple weeks abroad. But traveling in China made me take stock of how I lived in America; how much relative affluence I enjoyed; the advantages of education and opportunity; material ease; environmental stability; comparative freedom versus repression and censorship; atomistic society contrasted with familial and community-based society.

It also helped me realize that, hey, even in the midst of this foreign culture — where I can't speak or read the language, been advised not to drink any unbottled water, can't read websites like the New York Times because they've been blocked by the government, etc. — I was fine. Happy. Thriving. The thrill of discovery vastly outranked any confusion or annoyance or inconvenience. Most folks were willing to help, so long as I smiled and said a few rudimentary Mandarin words or phrases.

In China, people regularly wanted to take pictures of Kate. Often, they wanted pictures of Kate with their kids. Even in a mostly-Westernized metropolis like Shanghai, it was an event for many folks to encounter Caucasians wandering the city.

During the trip, it dawned on me that not only could I feel comfortable traveling anywhere in the world. I could live there.

Which is not to say I immediately decided I must move overseas. No lightning bolt struck. I wasn't suddenly itching to become an expat. The trip was, however, the start of a process reevaluating where we lived. How we lived. What would make our lives more interesting? More enriched? Would we ever contemplate living outside the U.S.? Why? Where?

Have you ever had a trip like this? One which challenged you? Not just pushed your boundaries but reshaped them? Our trip to China literally and figuratively broadened my horizons.

I can't draw a straight line from our month in China to ending up as expats in Scotland. Not even a crooked line. Maybe, possibly, a dotted one.

But ten years ago, something shifted. Profoundly.

Whaddya mean, "Coloring Without Borders"?

Doctors Without Borders, known in most of the world as Médecins Sans Frontières, does important work in war-torn or desperate countries around the globe.  Meaningful work.  Vital work that saves lives and gives hope to those who most need it.

By contrast, this blog may be mildly interesting to a handful of people.

My life right now centers around my toddler son, who just turned two.  Jackson recognizes few boundaries.  Everyone is a potential friend or playmate.  He has almost no sense of danger — he'll run off a ledge and simply assume you'll catch him.  If a crayon or pencil or pen is in reach, he's likely going to color on whatever surface is available, delighting in bold strokes and giant loops arcing across the page.  He invites our dog to "play Legos, Mattie."  All things are possible, inanimate objects are anthropomorphized, you can't possibly be correct that he has eaten the last Cheerio because there must be more somewhere in the bag and he really does want to eat Cheerios and please more Daddy more Daddy please please more Daddy he REALLY thinks you're just unnecessarily withholding Cheerios while you're driving down the highway.  A chance encounter with a live "statue" street performer in Glasgow now leads Jack to inquire about each stone statue he sees:  "Not move, Daddy?"  He pulls his shirt over his head and announces "I'm hiding!"

Jackson likes to push the boundaries, just as a toddler should.

Jackson's life is full of possibilities, not limitations.  Almost anything is possible.  The world does not yet have many restrictions or logic.  His coloring typifies his life view.  Like any toddler, Jack won't color within the lines on a page from a coloring book, not even if he had the fine motor skills to do so.  What would be the fun in that?  Instead, he explodes the boundaries with exuberant slashes cutting across the page or intense scribbles in the empty space.

I think this coloring suits the personality of Tigger.

I want to live my life a little more like Jackson colors.  I know, I know, I have responsibilities and a family to care for.  A profession to practice.  And there's retirement planning to think of.  So I can't — won't — go whole hog and abandon all those things that make me an upstanding member of society.  But I want to push myself a little, stretch the boundaries of how life is supposed to go.  Quit my job, move to another continent, and hope it'll all turn out fine?  Done.

This blog will focus on traveling and living without borders.  For me, the best travel and the best life experiences come from visiting foreign countries and learning new cultures.  A seven-country European trip after high school (thanks, mom and dad!) opened my eyes to the world.  A dozen years later, my life was changed after spending a month in China in 2004 — more than enjoying the amazing sights (both manmade and natural) Kate and I visited, it was a perspective-altering trip that helped redefine how I viewed life at home in the U.S.

The massive boundary of the Great Wall served to keep China isolated from the wider world.

The drama of the karst mountains in southern China reminds me of the severe beauty of the Scottish highlands.

If traveling for a few weeks at a time can have a powerful effect on my life, how profound will it be to live abroad?  When the opportunity to move to Scotland came up, we couldn't say no.

I'm inspired by family and friends who have stretched the boundaries in their own lives.  My sister-in-law, Rachel, has hiked through contested Kashmir to the base camp of Mt. Everest.  She made the jump in mid-life from being a wildlife biologist to training for three years as a luthier (i.e., a violin maker).

Rachel at the summit of Grand Teton in Wyoming.

One of Rachel's violins.

My godmother, Martha, moved with her husband from the U.S. to Indonesia in the 1960s — a far greater life change than moving from the U.S. to Scotland in 2013.  That same fortitude had her living without assistance alone in her home into her nineties, and she remains a lucid and independent soul.  Friends from various stages of my life have moved overseas to pursue careers, whether in business or law or as part of the U.S. Department of State.  I'm inspired by all of them and the courage they've shown.

Foreign Service Officer Sara during her posting in Zambia, herd of elephants in background.

I want to travel and live without borders.  Jackson is along for the ride, which hopefully will serve him well as he gets older.  Eventually he'll learn to color inside the lines, but I hope he also retains some of the spirit to color without borders.