I took a walk with a colleague to Madison Square Park today, and we were talking about the desire to escape and have a mental reset. Chris and I are leaving for Mexico City and Oaxaca tomorrow through Monday for an extended long weekend, and I’d been looking forward to this for the last several weeks. “What are you trying to escape – New York, work, your bubble, or what?” he asked.

“Everything?” I responded, questioning. “All of the above?”

We’re so tied up and absorbed into our day to day lives – everyone is guilty of this no matter what your background, where you live, what you do for a living. It’s hard to step outside of that and think about the world around us and what’s bigger and greater than what we are and what we do. For me, the best mental reset is one in which I can get away from my day-to-day routine, away from what I consider “normality,” and experience a culture, language, lifestyle… life, that is so far removed from my own. That’s what travel is. Immerse yourself in the unknown, the new, the exciting, and completely fall into it and forget what we considered important or essential back at home. Think about how other people live, what passions and priorities others have in worlds away from you, what keeps them up at night, and what drives them. And then, after all of that, think about our differences… but then realize that we’re all doing such different things when at the end of the day, we really want the same things: a roof over our heads, warm food on the table; to be loved and appreciated and respected; to help and provide for others; to feel like we all have some sense of purpose in life.

When we were in South Africa last December, in Cape Town specifically, the water shortage made me think (and feel guilty) about my showers back home, where I’d luxuriate occasionally and not keep track of how long I was exfoliating or conditioning my hair. When outside of Kruger National Park, I got excited at the idea of being far away from any urban place and wondered what life would be like as the rangers and workers of the safari lodge, waking up every morning to the calm of buffalo drinking water in the nearby watering hole, or even a lion sleeping right outside my bedroom window. In Japan, I thought about the salarymen in their plain, uniform-like suits, waking up early, walking their everyday walk/train commute to work, having a long day in front of their computers, drinking late night in bars after a quick rice bowl or ramen, and hitting repeat for the next day and the next day. I also thought about the average Japanese man’s refusal to have sex (or want to get married… and thus the low marriage and birth rate in a country we consider so advanced), and wondered what that would be like if that were the case back in the U.S. The list goes on for every place I’ve visited.

Some people freak out and are alarmed when they are lost in translation, trying to communicate something to someone in another country that does not speak their native language. I actually thrive in that and get excited by it; it’s like a mini adventure to me: get this person to understand what I am saying, and try to figure out what he is telling me. I also tend to smile and laugh more because I find that it lightens the mood of the other person in the event any frustration arises from not being able to understand each other. Warm, open body language disarms them and gets them to trust you, and I suppose it helps a lot that I’m a woman… because how threatening could a petite Asian woman like me be? These situations also force you to be more creative in how you express yourself, whether that’s via facial expressions, gestures, sign language, acting out something. If what is often said by researchers is true that seventy percent of communication is non-verbal, then for all the basic human emotions, desires, and messages, we should be able to suffice without knowing every exact word that comes out of a person’s mouth.

The world is so big and so great – there’s no better way to remind yourself how insignificant you are in the universe than to travel to parts unknown to you and witness humanity outside of your own bubble. I’m not an ignorant ass, though; I’m aware that not everyone can afford to travel, whether it’s due to living paycheck to paycheck like so many people around the world do, or due to commitments with sick family, etc. But for those who can afford to do it, there’s nothing else that is quite like it. There’s so much humility and perspective to be had from it, especially if you choose to fully immerse yourself into your surroundings.

One of the nicest things about coming down to Miami for work is that I get to stay at a beach front property where I usually have a room that overlooks the beach. It also means that since I’m on the east coast, and Miami is on the east side of Florida, that I get to see the sun rise if I wake up early enough. I woke up just in time to see the sun rise this morning, and also had my morning workout, which ended with a long walk on the beach. I sat outside on the sand for a while and really just soaked the sun, the air, and the sounds in, and kind of reveled in how lucky I was. Yes, work can get really stressful, as it has been in the last few weeks. Yes, work travel can be extremely tiring and lonely. But the fact that I can have moments like this when I can travel for work is amazing, and I’m so grateful for it.  Seeing the sun rise fully, and knowing I have one more morning of it waiting for me tomorrow have made this trip really worth it. And today is also my one-year work anniversary, so I feel like this trip was even more special because of it.

It was in the 50s when I departed Boston today. I had my warm coat and scarf on, and as we touched down at LaGuardia this afternoon, I could already feel the heat. It was so strange — to leave New York when it was cold and drizzling and to come back when it’s over 70 degrees and sunny. I immediately felt like I had to peel all my layers off to feel comfortable.

That’s the awkward thing about transitional seasons like spring and autumn. It’s hard to know what to dress and how to dress, especially when traveling to different cities as unpredictable as those in the Northeast. But it was encouraging to see the beginning of cherry blossoms lining the Back Bay when I was heading to lunch with a partner today. I’m ready to be done with all my cold-climate clothing and wear lighter clothes again. I’m ready for some change.

When in transit yesterday, my manager sent me several Slack messages to ask where I was, and if I could join the mandatory meeting that was on my calendar. I had communicated I’d be on a plane at that time, but the meeting sounded really urgent. As soon as I landed, I called her on her mobile phone, and the big news she wanted to announce is that she’s leaving the organization. I wasn’t quite sure how to react, but I knew that this was not necessarily the best news given that she had barely been here for nine months.

In the tech world, every startup, even the late stage startups, feels like revolving doors. People are constantly coming and going. It’s hard to know who to trust and confide in because they may just peace out the next day. And when it’s your manager who leaves, it’s normal to question the stability of the team and what the future holds for your own position.

For the most part, my day-to-day doesn’t change. But I’m wondering what the overall impact will be to our team and the general feelings around the organization around her departure. No matter where you are, the rumor mill still continues to rotate.

I arrived in Boston today for my short work trip, and at check-in, they let me know that there would be a daily complimentary “wine hour” from 5-6pm each day, where the team would serve local wines of the region and some small bites during this time. The tradition began when the hotel first opened many decades ago, and the hotel owner wanted to make his guests feel welcome, as though he was hosting them in his own house, so he served wine and appetizers to all his guests to make them feel comfortable. Now, it’s expanded to all the locations and is considered “wine hour” across Boston. For those who are unacquainted, Boston is extremely puritanical, and the term “happy hour” is pretty much banned and illegal. So no bar or restaurant can advertise that they have a “happy hour,” and instead, some places who want to entertain the notion of a “happy hour” have to come up with pseudonyms like “wine hour” or “beer hour” to be legal and kosher.

Boston is a great place to visit. Because of stupid laws like that noted above, I’m so happy I don’t live in that area anymore.

Two days in a row, due to customer meetings and personal travel, I’ve had to wake up at 4am for early morning flights that depart at 6:30am. I originally planned to take a late morning flight back to New York from Orlando, but because I had to connect, it would have wasted too much time, and I’d have less time to do all the work that’s been piling up in my email inbox. So I opted for an early morning return to be more efficient.

The crappy part about changing flights within 24 hours is that the picking of seats is limited, plus the chance of getting upgraded to business or first class based on my level of status is probably not going to be great because other people would have already been confirmed for upgrades. And I found out exactly how important it was to have TSE pre-check in Orlando during spring break: the regular security line at the Orlando airport was so long that I couldn’t even see the beginning of it when I arrived at the airport; the TSE pre-check line had 2 people before me when I arrived. If I didn’t have TSE pre-check, there was no way I would have made my flight in time, even with an hour arrival before flight departure.

On our final day in Kansas City, we drove a little outside the city to visit a grass-fed sheep’s milk cheese creamery in Weston, Missouri. I had read about it in some travel and food blogs when doing trip research for this weekend, and so we made a booking for a tour of the grounds, which ended in a cheese and local grape varietal wine tasting.

The comical thing about coming here and taking Chris and his parents to this is that in Australia, pretty much all dairy is grass-fed; there’s no novelty about it. It’s what is considered normal and what is practiced. Every time I go there, the milk always, always tastes better than the average milk that we buy here, even organic. It doesn’t matter if the milk or organic or not. What that means it that if you are drinking “organic milk, your cows are likely just getting organic grain and corn. It’s still corn they’re eating, which isn’t normal. What really matters is whether the cows are eating grass, what they are naturally supposed to be eating. They are what they eat.

Chris’s dad, who really doesn’t know much about food at all (when I tell him I like to make things from scratch and don’t like brownie or pancake mixes, he has absolutely no idea what I mean when I say a “mix”), even said that grass-fed dairy was the norm in Australia and New Zealand, so he didn’t quite get why this place was notable. “I suppose that in Australia, this place would no longer have its shtick, right?” he asked. Yes, he’s right. This stupid country.

The last two days have been a bit of an education both in regional Kansas barbecue, and in American history. When I look back at the textbooks that I read on American history, particularly around slavery, race, and civil rights, I always feel as though so much of it was glossed over, and many areas that could have gone deeper just aren’t given the time or the textbook paragraph space.

We visited the Brown vs. Board of Education national historical site today on our way back to Kansas City from Abilene, Kansas, which is where the Eisenhower Presidential Library and Museum is. Brown vs. Board of Education was one of the handful of major Supreme Court cases that we learned in school, but what I do not remember being told or taught was that after the ruling, many states actually rebelled against it, going so far as to shutting down their schools and entire school districts to prevent desegregation from happening. It just sounded so full of hate and selfishness; there’s really no other way to put it. It happened everywhere from Arkansas to Virginia. We knew from learning about the Little Rock Nine that communities and individuals were against whites and blacks having the same rights and going to the same schools, but for entire cities’ school districts to just shut down to make a statement just seems so unfair to literally everyone living in these areas.

Maybe that’s why so many people believe that racism doesn’t exist, that there’s no difference in treatment between a white or a brown or a black person. Maybe that’s the reason insanities like Fox News exist. It’s because the way rulings like Brown vs. Board of Education are taught do not delve deeper into the aftermath of the rulings. They don’t drill into the injustices that continued to happen day after day when major decisions like this are made. They don’t make the connection between those times and what we are experiencing today. They make it seem as though these decisions or laws swept away all the bad, and everyone just lived happily ever after since then. That isn’t the case. It wasn’t the case then, and it also still isn’t the case now. The amount of ignorance in this country around our own history is just so saddening. Even when I think about myself, I still believe I learned more about U.S. history visiting presidential libraries and these historical sites over anything I learned in school. And I supposedly went to the “better” schools in San Francisco, too, so I’m not sure what that’s saying about the quality of schools in America in general.

When Chris’s parents come to town, we usually take them on a side trip somewhere for a weekend, and this year, we chose Kansas City. It’s an interesting city in that it belongs to both Missouri and Kansas, and because neither of us had been to Kansas before, it was another state to tick off the list (42 for me, and 44 for Chris). It’s driving distance from both the Truman and the Eisenhower presidential library and museums, and it’s also an American barbecue capital, one that we hadn’t yet had the chance to enjoy until today.

We chose to go to Joe’s Kansas City, as it was the most popular and has been rated one of the best, if not the best, barbecue restaurant in the country. Even though it was a Friday, there was still a bit of queue (a local told me that this was far shorter than usual), and so we lined up. They’re known for their beef ribs and “burnt ends” especially, and pretty much all of their sides. Burnt ends are “the thing” in Kansas City, and it’s rumored that each barbecue restaurant has their own “style” of how to make them. We ordered the beef ribs, brisket, and the burnt ends, along with spicy slaw, potato salad, dirty rice, and baked beans.

Chris and I have been fortunate to have gone to pretty much every major barbecue region in the country, and before this trip, our shared favorites were by far Texas style barbecue, and then North Carolina barbecue. One of our least favorites was actually in the state of Missouri, in St. Louis; the meat didn’t have much flavor at all, and all the focus seemed to be on the sauces… which is great, but if I’m going to eat barbecue which is supposed to take hours and hours to cook, I want really good meat first, not really good sauce. Who eat barbecue just for the sauce and not the meat, anyway? But now that we’ve had this barbecue, I can safely say that this is probably my second favorite barbecue now. The ribs were some of the best and most flavorful ribs I’ve had; they weren’t fall of the bone tender, but a good cross of fall-of-the-bone with just a bit of bite. The rub on them was also really smokey and complex. Every side we ordered was memorable.

Kansas City is impressive. I’m still salivating over those ribs and the burnt ends.

Tonight, we had a big dinner party with all 275 of us, and it was one of those events where you know that although you’ll have fun staying up until 2:30 mingling with everyone, that you will be really annoyed the next morning (or, really, in the next few hours) when you have to wake up for the final 8am session of the week.

One odd thing that my New York colleague brought up to me was that she felt as though there were a lot of “greasy” colleagues across the other offices. I didn’t really know what she meant initially, but she said that a lot of our male colleagues, particularly the ones in the European offices, were a bit too friendly and affectionate and touched her more than she felt comfortable with.

I actually did notice that our European and Australian colleagues were more friendly and affectionate physically,  but I didn’t really think anything of it because I think that there are some cultural differences to consider. Americans tend to be more puritanical and rigid, especially in the work place. Shaking hands and the occasional half-hug are the routine greetings when meeting up with colleagues you don’t see very often here. The kiss-on-each-cheek greeting or touching one’s shoulder when speaking and engaging with each other… pretty much never happens in my experience with American colleagues. It is something to think about and consider why our greetings are so different and what is considered “acceptable” and not “creepy.” But sadly at the end of the day, it’s what we are “used to” that we probably end up falling back on. Or maybe I’m just a bit of an outlier because I’m naturally very affectionate and expressive, so none of this bothers me. If anything, I actually love interacting with our international counterparts. I get a glimpse into perspectives I don’t always get day to day here. And that’s really fun and engaging for me.