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After 50+ bleary eyed hours of constant supervision, over multiple time zones, in cramped quarters, Kaia and I have returned home. Perhaps it was the wave of odor that hit us coming off of the airplane—a cocktail of sweat, jasmine, hazardous cleaning agent banned in most of Europe and North America, with a pinch of lime—or the familiar shortcut through the Directorate on Deviance and Anti-Corruption, or the way that nothing (ever) travels in a straight line, but it is an odd feeling to experience the comfort of being back in India.

The trip back was, well, not nearly as bad as I had been prepared for. In fact, the only meltdown came 5 minutes into our solo trip, while walking through the main security checkpoint in Los Angeles International airport. Kaia had it in his mind to watch one of those carts that transport the elderly and handicapped through the terminal, and we needed to get through the metal detector and x-ray. In addition to the 30 pound bundle, I also had a stroller (which he didn’t want to sit in), a large car seat bag (with toys stuffed in), and a 20 pound diaper bag (filled with dozen of distractions to ease the first leg of the flight). All told, it was about 90 pounds of stuff to ‘wear’ on my person from LAX to the final destination in Chennai—some 10,000 miles away. No one told me how powerful your arms get as a parent.

I think that, when you attempt something like this, it is most important to be mentally prepared. Not to the point of incapacitating terror mind you (like I was nearly!), but to anticipate the challenges that you might encounter: spilt orange juice over both of you, annoyed passengers, alternating boredom and frustration… To know that they will come, you can at least have some prepared solution near at hand. Oh, and if that fails, there is always Benadryl.

Yes, I am not ashamed to say it, but I acquiesced and, 3 hours into the (11.5 hour) LA-Tokyo leg, when it was clear that he wasn’t going to sleep, I served up some of the wonder syrup. Within 15 minutes he was out with long strands of drool and I was being oddly entertained by Miss Congeniality 2 on the cabin’s movie screen. It actually kept him asleep for 6 hours and, in retrospect, it probably was my saving grace. He woke up with a few hours left to go, we played happily and the next thing you know, we were shuttling through immigration and onto our over-priced hotel (what hotel in Japan isn’t?) near Narita. Amazingly, we get a bite to eat from the nearby conbi (and who doesn’t love the Japanese conbi?), I had a beer, and we both were in bed and asleep by 8:30 pm, Japan time. Of course, our body clocks were feeling the 4:30 am lag of western standard time, but it still led to an 8 hour (albeit shallow) sleep…the first leg was successfully completed.

The next day, I awoke to a screeching pessimism that, if yesterday went so smoothly, then today is going to be the opposite reaction. Being a committed devotee to the power of karma and universal balance, and having experienced the ‘blue moon’ of considerate flight attendants on Northwest, I was certain that there were dark clouds on the horizon. But leave it to the hospitality of Singapore Airlines to make all days sunny—there really isn’t a comparable experience for flying in the Asia-Pacific. From the grace and beauty of the flight attendants to the good food to the personal video screens to the care and concern given to young children, it really made the time fly by…well, of course that was helped by Kaia sleeping most of the time in the air (by himself, and without the aid of Bendryl). A 3 hour layover in the Singapore airport and a good deal of running around and all that was left was the final 4 hours to India.

The last leg was without incident. The flight from Singapore to Chennai is rarely packed and many folks have an entire aisle to themselves. As the plane started into its final decent into the Chennai airport, and I gazed out the window over the lit-up city, I realized that what I was seeing was no longer a foreign place, blurred through uncertainty and fear, but something altogether surprising. And as I held Kaia’s hand and winced as the flight attendants passed through the cabin spraying a “non-toxic” pesticide, it became clear to me that this place had become home.

Why I Love this Time: “digger dump trucks” and “torapusya”