“WELCOME BACK”

We are back in the land of perpetual spring and summer, with blinding sunlight. After being welcomed by the immigration officer at LAX, who acknowledged, “Welcome back,” we drove through a sparse downtown Los Angeles compared to the urban jungle of Kuala Lumpur’s center. As I looked out the window, the morning sun nearly blinded me. I muttered to myself, “Not much has changed since we left.” My thoughts shifted quickly, and I was glad to be home where the Lakers and Dodgers play. It was almost as if we had never left. The feeling was strangely familiar and familiarly strange. Then as we drew near to Pasadena, I gasped at the bare San Gabriel mountains, the major victims of the devastating Eaton Fire. It was as if someone had shaved the mountain bald, not unlike my dome.

After landing before six in the morning, one of my first to-do lists was to renew my expired driver’s license. For this one, I needed to go in person to renew. I was promptly immersed right in the heart of LA in the DMV office, another welcome back to California. A new facial photo was taken after an obligatory eye exam which I passed swimmingly even with my aging eyes. The clerk at DMV asked me, “Do you wear glasses or contacts?” Proudly, I said no. As for the photo, I wasn’t sure whether to smile or bare my full teeth since the atmosphere was subdued, with many simply wanting to get out of the office as soon as they could. In the end, I smirked, similar to Mowgli’s shy smile in The Jungle Book. The guy who took my photo tersely said after, “Good enough.” If my picture does not turn out well, I will blame my picture on the photographer. But then, “Who cares?” ran through my mind.

Needing caffeine to stay awake, we stopped by my former “second” office at Peet’s Coffee in Hastings Ranch, near our home. As I wondered if I would see the usual suspects, my thoughts transformed into a nostalgic moment as soon as I stepped inside. I instantly recognized the same barista who later said, “Thanks, Chong” after my order, and familiar characters I had written about before leaving for Asia last year. With another warm welcome from these familiar strangers, I felt right at home.

Our next stop was LA Fitness, which has been home to my gym for many years. My wife told me, “Hey honey, now you could swim if you want to.” Yes, that is a change from last time. Not sure if I want to take all my gear including my swim shorts, but that is one option I did not have before. The manager explained what package would most benefit us for the next six months. After we signed the contract, he said, “Welcome back.” I smiled back and went on to our fav grocery store, Trader’s Joe. Again, not much change except for the prices. Suddenly, I felt the pain and missed Malaysia. But I was also happy to be back. While in Malaysia, I had always wished to step into Trader’s Joe, one of my ordinary joys of life.

Later that evening, authentic LA tacos arrived with our son and daughter-in-law, along with all our adult children. They all came to welcome our presence back in Pasadena. This was our first time being back together as one since they came to visit us in Kuala Lumpur last October. This fall, we will welcome our grandson, who will undoubtedly become the center of our undivided attention. After devouring the tacos, the men watched the Lakers demolish the Nuggets. Then we bought tickets to see the Dodgers play for my belated and our oldest daughter’s birthdays early next month. One of the bonding moments in KL last October happened through watching the Dodgers in the post-season run, eventually winning it all in grand style.

Since embracing an itinerant lifestyle over the past several years, we have experienced numerous opportunities to be “welcomed back.” We are thankful for this day’s cordial ordinary reception. Including our adult children welcoming us back, we remain grateful for more “Welcome back” from our loved ones and friends. Being welcomed and having a sense of belonging go hand in hand; they are inseparable realities of intimacy. To be welcomed signifies that we belong. This sanctity of belonging fosters a longing for presence, which in turn cultivates welcoming. The circles of belonging across the US and Asia stand as living testaments, encouraging us to continue our journey, which reflects the most fundamental belonging—to our own soul.