When one's roots are in another country, and those roots are not ancestral, but those of one self, it is proper to return to the place of origin from time to time, to the place where one grew up and was nurtured, not only by parents and family, but also by culture and educators, so 7 years ago, I once again made the not very frequent trip "home", (Christmas 1975, July 1989 and this last trip which was also a summer trip).
 |
| I remember this airplane. It was a priced possession together with a carved hull of a ship.  so I assume from about 1954. |
One of the dangers of returning to one's roots is that one can't. The places of memory, the house where one grew up, the old friends have all changed. This is a reality that was fully realized on this last trip, so one may well ask why.
For one thing, on the previous two trips my parents were still alive, and although they no longer lived in the house that I will always consider "home", they were a link to my roots. The house they lived in on all three of my visits was built after I went out to discover the world, in 1961. Therefore the adage "The past is a wonderful place to visit, but not a good place to stay" certainly holds true.
Anyway, so one year before my retirement from an active paycheck and "real work" I decided it was time to once again make a trip home, to try to reconnect with the past and with my three brothers, although one of them and his wife had visited here, in 2005, on the occasion of my 60th birthday. Later another brother visited for a couple of weeks in 2009. I also had a couple of nieces visit over the years, one in 1996 on the occasion of one of my daughters wedding and the other I think in 2003, but I can't be sure of the year (old age I suppose).
Passports are current, tickets are purchased early to take advantage of the somewhat lower price which wasn't much lower because summer is the height of the travel season. Vacation dates were turned in at work, and I was fortunate enough for a number of years to have enough seniority and a management position to qualify for a one month long vacation, something that is almost unheard of in the corporate world in the US.
Family members (brothers) on the other side of the Atlantic are informed of arrival dates and intended itinerary, which is to say we plan on spending one week with each of my brothers and their families, hoping they will each put up with us for a week.
What is the weather going to be like, knowing that Denmark can have some very "cool" summers, commonly called "green winters". How much to take, this but not that - or that but not this. Eventually all is packed and the day has arrived to go to the airport. The fly first from Houston to Chicago, suffer through a very long layover in Chicago, and then from Chicago non-stop to Copenhagen. Meaning that with restless leg syndrome I will "walk" most of the way across the Atlantic.
The "big bird" that we will fly from Chicago to Copenhagen.
In this case the "bird" has a proper name,
"Godfred Viking"
Since it was an uneventful overnight flight one did get a little sleep, but had to stay awake to see the snow caps, or rather ice cap, of Southern Greenland and the mountains with snow on Iceland. Then suddenly the sun pops up in the east and then there is Denmark and then there is Copenhagen, followed by a smooth landing, and we have been traveling for about 15 hours, including the lay over. The internal clock is a bit confused because although it is about 8 AM / 0800 in Denmark our internal clocks are telling us that it is only 0100 / 1 AM (Houston time).
De-plane, gather luggage, go through customs (being waved through without any formalities), go through immigration and what a pleasant surprise that experience was. Here is how we were greeted "Good morning, welcome to Denmark" and then we were waived on. "Say, do you not want to look at the passports?", no, not really. "Will you please stamp them", "Well, if I have to". Quite different from the greeting one gets on entering the US.
Since we landed about 45 minutes ahead of schedule we assume my brother Frank is basing his arrival time to the airport on the actual flight itinerary so he will be around shortly. After about 1 1/2 hours there is still no sign of Frank and we have no Danish money to make a phone call, nor could we find a phone booth, and we are beginning to wonder. After 2 hours we are a bit anxious, and then suddenly this man rolls up in a wheel chair and looks at me and says "Allan?", with that distinct tone of question in his voice. That would be my youngest brother Frank. Now I ask myself, have I changed that much since I was "home" last, all of 18 years ago? Maybe I have, I have certainly gotten older. Anyway, all is well, he is here and we get loaded into his car and head for his home where we will spend the first week.
More to follow in the next post.
No comments:
Post a Comment