Traveler - California

I admit it has taken me some time to grasp the reality, after an entire month of traveling. Do I feel like I'm settled back here yet? Maybe, maybe not.

Being with family felt so right. I am a small-town girl. I grew up with my grandparents, uncles, aunties, and baby cousins each and every day. Our extended family is extremely close; my maternal grandparents, all of their children, and all of their grandchildren lived together in our beautiful green townish-city in Southern China. It has always been loud. Family affairs happen constantly. My mom is the firstborn child of my grandparents, and I am the firstborn grandchild of the entire family. Everyone looks up to my dad as the true boss because he achieved a high local government position just a few years after he "married into" my grandparents' home as a young man, and my parents and I were always at the center of things. 

In the entirety of my extended family, we all possess the most valuable thing any human could have: kindness. All of us are basically the same - extremely kind and soft-hearted, always willing to work hard and fight for others. We are together not because of money or power, but because we genuinely love and make an effort to care for each other. My uncle (mom's youngest sibling) might be a little spoiled, though, since he's the youngest and the only son of my grandparents. In that case, he can be a little greedy and lazy and loves to shirk his responsibilities, but overall, he is also soft-hearted and the most fun, too. 

In the madness of big family affairs, even though the adults intentionally excluded us to make sure we kids studied well, we were always aware. We looked forward to having sleepovers on the weekends, which were always the best part of the week. We played nonstop, acted silly in our kids' monkey business, we compared notes of adults' affairs to have a sense of reassurance and security, and we shared all of our own secrets with each other - who we had secret crushes on and who had crushes on us. I can't get over the nostalgia for how close my five baby cousins and I used to be. That kind of closeness clicks back within seconds, no matter how long you haven't met or talked, or how far away you end up being. 

Oh gosh, we used to be so happy. Whenever we were allowed to be together for the night, we would giggle and joke nonstop. Our stomachs would always ache from laughing, and very often, we would actually roll on the floor laughing, not able to stop. Even with my youngest baby cousins, who are twelve years younger, we had our days of being completely silly nuts together, with nonstop jokes and laughing, back when they were around ten and I was in college. When Shiv and Aditi were young, each time I brought them home for a two-to-three-week visit, my cousins who were then in college would always come back to our hometown to be with us, and we were still completely nuts. None of us had any intention of growing up or growing old along the way, especially not when we were together. 

I remember how much I wanted to take them all with me to America. I urged them to apply for studies abroad, and I scared them about what was happening in China. However, not everybody shares the same priorities or capabilities. Since my birth, my entire family has given me the responsibility of taking care of all the younger siblings. This was especially true because I was always the talk of the town for my high marks and diverse range of capabilities - performing music and stage acts, always winning medals and recognitions for various competitions. They used to have high hopes for me to achieve something grand in life, to be able to lift up and take care of my baby cousins. The guilt of leaving them behind has persisted and never subsided. 

The way I am taking care of Leena like my baby sister makes me wish I could do the same for my baby cousins: include them in all of my adventures, make them my confidants so when they are in need of help, they would give me all the information and I could straighten things out for them right away; consistantly buy things for them - clothes, snacks, handicrafts - and take them out dining and traveling. I am so proud of myself for how I literally built Leena's new wardrobe (keywording "sexy") by giving her new clothes almost every other week. 

My baby cousins and I traveled together in China when we were young, and had some absolutely bonkers experiences. It was so much fun, but I was such a maniac big sister who would turn into a psychopath whenever I sensed danger. I just had the instinct to protect my baby cousins, and no one, no one was allowed to touch a hair on their heads! My mom has been the "big-ass sister" for the family her whole life. I wasn't born with a very assertive or dominating personality, or perhaps it was never nurtured because my parents' habits of power and authority cast a big shadow over me, but I have also been the oldest sister my whole freaking life. This "big-ass-sister" energy resides in me regardless and surely will come out whenever it's needed. When it does, you'll see the most natural act of a big-ass sister who is a little cuckoo in the head, just a little bit.

My upbringing with my cousins taught me to have an open heart. I've always felt a need to include people in my life - to trust them, share what I have, and support them. I love making memories and having a good time with them.

However, since I left home at 18, constant change has been a continuous presence in my life. The friends, lovers, and various other encounters have mostly been beautiful but fleeting moments, lasting anywhere from a few months to a few years. My closest friends were a group of Chinese colleagues I used to work with; 15 years later, we are still close, but most of them have moved away, and we rarely get to see each other. We only maintain a group chat for life updates. 

The sadness of seeing good friends leave has persisted, and for a while, I thought I had grown tougher. I sometimes found myself no longer yearning for long-term relationships or expecting anyone to stay close. But that feeling - the feeling of diving in with complete trust and endless intimacy - suddenly resurfaced when I reunited with my baby cousins after six long years. I still love them so much that the thought of leaving them again brings me to tears, and I can feel how much they are attached to me, too. 

This year's trip to China made me realize that longing for closeness with people is a core part of me, and it will always be. No matter how many ups and downs I’ve experienced since leaving home, how many times I’ve fallen and been heartbroken, or how much sorrow I’ve had to endure, my heart will always remain open.

I can’t be with my baby cousins, who are my closest companions by default. Most likely, this open wound will never heal in my lifetime. But I chose this life for myself and my children. I chose to leave home, leave behind what defined the younger version of me, and rebuild. I don't regret my choices, and I don't look back.

With a wounded heart and a twisted wing, I know deep down that this land is home now - California is home - but I will also remain a traveler, for always, wherever the wind takes me.