Last Saturday morning, I dropped my youngest daughter off at the Philadelphia airport for a 19-day trip to Peru with her friend.
They work together at a well-known restaurant in Ithaca, New York — Moosewood — that recently celebrated its 50th anniversary. Integral members of the team, they will no doubt be missed. One of their travel goals, they assured their boss, is culinary discovery.
We stayed up a little too late the night before their flight, catching up and playing music, and we all had a bit of a fitful sleep.
Tumbling in and out of consciousness, I made a mental note to remind them that the richness of travel is not about the tourist destinations you check off on your map but the people you meet.
I forgot, although I probably would have been preaching to the choir.
Their excitement mixed with nervousness was palpable as we drove an hour and 20 minutes to the airport.
I was reminded of sitting on a plane on the runway of the Denver International Airport with my daughters’ mom in October 1997, about to travel to India and other South Asian destinations for several months.
I had been anxious about the trip for weeks until we finally took our seats. It seemed at that moment that our roles had reversed. I was raring to go. She looked a bit airsick, and we hadn’t left the ground.
Sadly, we didn’t make the long journey as a couple, separating when our youngest was 14.
Happily, we instilled some shared values.
Moss (nee Deva) Sullivan, top left, seeking out new heights and culinary adventure in Peru.
I have taken international trips with each of my three daughters, first to Costa Rica with my eldest, now 34, when she was 15, then back to India with my middle daughter, now 26, when she was 14, and finally to Belize with my youngest, now 20, when she was 10.
I have fond memories from all of these experiences. One that stands out is when my middle daughter and I got back to our room after visiting a small village across the river from where I was helping to make a documentary, and she commented that the people we had met, though they had very little materially, seemed quite happy and content.
It was a profound reflection for both of us.
These days, that daughter is in nursing school in Northern California, plus holding down a related job, and spends most of her precious time off surfing locally or backpacking with her boyfriend and their dog if they can string a few days together for such a luxury.
My eldest is a mental health counselor with her own practice in Pennsylvania, offering her clients care on a sliding scale.
I’ve no doubt their call toward service was informed by their time abroad. (Their Galloping Gourmet little sister currently in Peru spent a semester in that country in middle school doing volunteer work.)
Travel and service opportunities at home and around the globe abound for young people and the young at heart.
My colleague Dave Lefever’s 19-year-old son is currently serving in AmeriCorps’ new Forest Corps program, helping to protect public lands through fire prevention work in Oregon, Arizona and California while bonding with a team of young adults he’ll be working with shoulder to shoulder for 10 months.
Willing Workers on Organic Farms offers travelers opportunities all over the world to learn about agroecological and sustainable farming methods through hands-on experience. Hosts offer accommodations and meals, and no money is exchanged.
The International Farm Youth Exchange program — established by young U.S. soldiers returning home from World War II to foster “peace through understanding” between individuals, families and host countries — offers two-, three- and six-month travel programs abroad.
My first trip to Peru in 2000 was part of the Rotary Foundation’s Group Study Exchange.
An internet search of “service opportunities abroad” yields a plethora of possibilities, including Habitat for Humanity International, UN volunteers, the Peace Corps and more.
And if you are reading this and thinking, “I wish I had done that when I was younger,” the Peace Corps is actively recruiting volunteers over 50.
I wonder how my own boss would feel about a two-year sabbatical?
This post was originally published on here
