I wake to the alarm of my phone which is followed by a wakeup call from the front desk informing me of the local time, I manage to say, “Thankyou” and then go into action.

I shower and really get in there good cleaning myself twice over before finishing, there’s this icky feeling I get from flight that comes from this idea I have that all these people sharing such a confined area for such a long period, I feel as though you come away from your flight with this invisible clinging taint that leaves you feeling well...icky I suppose. So my way around that is to go to your flight feeling as fresh as you can be by washing thoroughly both before and after the flight, head to toe.

I come out of the bathroom with my toiletries bag and then dump it into my carry-on, making sure that all of my medication is in there and that I have removed a couple of valium to tuck into my wallet for the flight home.

Once I’m dressed go back into the bathroom and hang my towels over the edge of the bath to dry. Then I pack away my unmentionables into a plastic I’ve reserved as my washing for when I get home.
I sit my luggage upright and then dump my carry-on on top of that, next I perform a last minute idiot check, which involves me looking under the bed, checking every cupboard and even re-checking the room safe to ensure that everything that I own is packed away or else side lined for garbage.

I exhale knowing that I’m ready and that this is it, I grab my luggage and roll on out, removing the room key from the slot as I exit. I ride the elevator head downstairs towards the concierge desk to check out, I see Jeff in the lobby who is already stepping away from the front desk, he tells me that our taxi driver is already here. I sign for any extra expenses and the concierge wishes me well thanking me for choosing to stay at the Hotel Istana, he says this with precise recitation as though he’s saying it for a recording and I give him a pleasant though coy and somewhat playful, “Ok, bye”

The taxi driver we had arranged to meet us earlier in the week is here and when I get outside he’s helping me with my travel case and carryon, in a hurry to beat the morning traffic. I thank the taxi rank manager for accommodating us throughout the week, only then realising that he probably isn’t the same guy we’ve been dealing with, though he’s happy to accept the thanks all the same.
In a few short moments we hit the freeway and are heading out to the airport at lightning speed.
Our driver doesn’t say much, rather instead he gabbles into a mobile phone blue tooth every once in a while which leaves me and Jeff to talk to each other. Though for some reason there doesn’t seem to be a lot to say, I mean we’re both comfortable enough to sit together quietly and enjoy the ride, but a random comment here and there and that’s all that we seem to have the strength for, we’re tired, I’m still sleepy and I can’t wait to fall asleep on the flight home.

We pass through the outer suburbs, buildings, some of these are tower blocks and others seem to be of an older architecture design for single dwellings, they’re all houses of sorts, nothing too flash, but every where in-between habitats and concrete is this thick lush green jungle. The juxtaposition really affects me it’s so unlike anything I’ve seen before.

In a little while we arrive at the airport and I pay for the journey, as I pay our driver Jeff offers to get breakfast and it’s all settled. Our driver helps us with our bags and then we head inside to the boarding platform.

Once inside it’s this paper chase to get our electronic tickets sorted at these automated kiosks and then line up to check in our bags. Mercifully we do this at the same international area and we’re not separated for long. When we check our bags in and organise our on board tickets pass, the bags are weighed to ensure that I’m within the allowed weight restrictions for Malaysian airlines, thankfully I didn’t shop that hard while over here so I’m well within the weight limits and the counter check in clerk smiles politely and sends me on my way.

After we finish at check in there’s only a few more armed guards and customs to clear before we’re herded towards the monorail shuttle that will take us both out to the Satellite terminal for international arrivals and departures.

At the Satellite terminal we ride travelators that take us to the centre where the idea of breakfast hits. “So”, I ask Jeff and he’s already scanning the food stands for a likely restaurant. We check out a few breakfast bars and look at the menu’s and it all seems to be too healthy or not enough of the foods we both like to eat, that being - carbs. After fucking around for at least 15 minutes Jeff finally says, “Hey do you wanna eat at Burger King?” and I smile as this is exactly what the doctor ordered.

Jeff orders for me and sets me up with a red drink of some kind, perhaps raspberry, while I get into a burger and fries Jeff asks me do I want to do some shopping after we’re done, I had spotted a Ralph Lauren store on the way through and Yes while the temptation is there I’d like to but I decide against it. Half way through his burger Jeff says, “You know that the band singer was asking where you were last night” and this is bait, tease material I’m sure, so I don’t bite. But Jeff is keen to go fishing here, he continues, “Lively and I sat up all night drinking and we even had dances with the band singers”.
I raise an eyebrow, “Really?” and Jeff is adamant, “Yeah dude she kept asking about you all night, we even thought to give you a phone call to get you down to the bar”. But thinking about doing something isn’t the same thing so I call bullshit and now Jeff is laughing under pressure, “No shit dude she kept asking about you” and even while some of that might be true I still don’t bite, until Jeff asks, “What? Don’t you believe me?” and I say, “I need to take shit”.

I dump out in a toilet cubicle not far from the Burger King while Jeff waits outside the door holding my carryon. I flush and open the door telling him “to go for it” but he takes a whiff of what I’ve just passed and says, “Nah, I’ll manage”.

We ride travelators until we’re at our gates, we have about 20 minutes until Jeff’s flight will be called so we wander around looking for a spare seat for us to chill out. It’s a long search until we find something, the gate lounge for Jeff’s flight home doesn’t open for at least another 20 minutes so Jeff and I find seats way up the other end of the terminal and sit down and chill.

We make small talk and I asks him if he had a good time or not and with some cohesion my part I manage to get him to say that he did have a good time, but then he adds, in true Jeff form, “Next time could we go somewhere that’s not an Asian country”, and I figure he’s saying this on the account that for the last two times we’ve been anywhere he’s managed to get sick on the home leg of the journey and this is no exception. Last time it was swine flu and this trip it will be pneumonia, good times.

Twenty minutes later they open up the gate lounge for Jeff’s flight across from my own flight which will open 25 minutes after he’s taken off. So this it I say to myself, I look Jeff in the eye and I want to tell him something meaningful like he’s a good mate, or that even though we fight like brothers do I couldn’t have put this thing together without his help, or that i appreciate everything he does to try help out in my life, whether it’s the mental support of just being there to confide to, yell or scream at, or it’s the unexpected technology gifts like the iPhone for my Dad and the Motorolla Xoom that he just went and gave to me for nothing. And though what I really wanted to say was that this has been the best trip I’ve taken to date and I’m so glad that despite the kicking and screaming and he’s own quirks he was along for the ride, keeping pace with us all at on almost every occasion.

But of course none of this gets said and I ask him “how longs your flight?” and he gives me some figure that exceeds my own flight time and so in our spoilt game of one up man ship I point out the fact that, “Ha at least I’ll be home before you” and then he says, “You wish, you’re going to get anally probed in customs” and even though this might seem cruel conversation to the casual observer it is a rather touching moment, I give him a hug goodbye and he whispers into my ear “faggit” and then he goes.

I watch Jeff disappear into the herd of passengers that will be sitting somewhere in the gate boarding lounge waiting to get onto their flight. After I’ve lost sight of him I move around on travelators for something to do that helps pass the time and a little while after that I go back to his gate and watch his flight back out from the gate, move towards the runway and then take off headed home to Sydney Australia.

I’m alone now, but not really alone when you consider everyone else boarding my flight is feeling the same nostalgia for home and the faces of loved ones. In a short while it’s my turn to go into my boarding gate and while getting my carryon luggage scanned the customs officer tells me to open my bag and he removes the bottle of Canadian Club I’ve wrapped in a beach towel, it’s still in the duty free bag as is the receipt but the problem here is that the bag isn’t sealed with duty free stickers. He explains that because the bag is not sealed according to international duty free he needs to confiscate the bottle. I’m pissed off but I understand the reasons why it has to be, it’s my own fault for not understanding the conditions of bringing stuff in and taking stuff out, but still, it means I’m down $30 bucks on a bottle I’ll never have the pleasure of drinking for myself.

It’s not a long wait until we’re being called to board, lucky for me the back rows get to go first and I’m moved along towards the back. I stow my carryon in an overhead locker and then head towards my seat and get snuggled in for the long haul home. More luck finds me, on the flight home a cheery happy go lucky Aussies is seated next to me. He’s a good sport and isn’t looking to make too much chit chat but is pleasant enough in sharing this space together.

In a few moments we hear the Captains voice and in no time we’re taxing along the runway, I got to operate the wand of my in flight TV which is built into the back of the chair in front of me, the shit doesn’t work and all i can select from is radio channels. The guy next to me isn’t aware of my misfortune instead he doesn’t even bother with the inflight stuff and instead opens up his Apple iPad and watches episodes from that 70’s show. He laughs to himself out loud which normally might bother me, but it doesn’t.

I read magazines and check the In-Flight shopping guide and then count up the remaining cashish I have in Malaysian ringgits. I decide that when the cart comes around I’ll be getting some Chivas Regal and possibly something for my Mum, if there’s any money left over i’ll be looking to getting some of that Gucci Guilty for Men that Nathan keeps raving about.
Before too long they are serving us a warm breakfast and for some reason they’re also offering Carlsberg beer. After food I take some valium and listen to music on my phone, I’m fairly certain that there are moments where I doze off and snore to my hearts content but the Aussie guy next to me is too deeply involved in watching That 70’s Show to notice.

When I wake up our hostess is moving the shopping cart up the aisle. My stewardess is a lady called Jennifer Chan, she is so cute and happy to help out with my order, I tell her i’ll take two bottles of Chivas Regal and a Sarong for my mum. She only has one bottle of Chivas so she has to go up to the other shopping trolley and she gets a second bottle to me. She goes to hand the bottles to me and I ask her to stow in the overhead compartment where my bag is stashed. She makes the cutest face of mild annoyance, you see she has to jump to reach the overhead compartment handle. She’s not tall enough and has to keep jumping, she laughs at herself and when she’s done putting my Chivas away she exhales a breath of relief straightening her uniform, I say, “Thanks” and she shoots me a wry smile.

* * *

We land at Perth airport a few hours later and it takes a while for everyone ahead of me to file out of the plane, I say goodbye to Jennifer Chan and she smiles at me and says Goodbye like a robot.
Coming off the plane is a maze of corridors until I get to the carousels where our bags are coming off. Customs have installed a series of facial recognition machines and passport scanners, I fumble with it and while at the unit a fat overweight female customs officer says in her best Aussie accent with extra strine, “Got anything to declare mate?” and I tell her “I’m not sure so I ticked a few of these declarations just in case”. I can’t believe her reaction it’s not helpful, “Well you should know what you have and what you don’t, otherwise you can get into a lot of trouble” and I’m left reeling with anger, I mean welcome home to Australia sport.
While i’m in another line another customs officer comes by and looks at my card and see’s that I have declared that I have tobacco and alcohol. The customs officer unclips the tapered maze and says, “This way please” and I’m moved into a declaration line. Here I meet another officer to whom I carefully explain everything and answer his questions. He goes through everything I say, point by point and we get to a point into our ever brief discussion where he feels comfortable that he’s eliminated any risk and says I can simply go through and that I’m done.
I look at him and say, “But don’t you even wanna check my bags” and he says, “Nah you’re right mate, off you go” and I go, bewildered at what’s transpired.

I roll my suitcase out the front doors, across the pavement and as I come out front I can see Mum and Johns 4WD over by a taxi stand. I walk over to them and John is there to greet me, he shales my hand and says, “Perfect timing me boy” and I smile and hand him a bottle of Chivas Regal and tell him, “this is for you for the pick up” and John takes the duty free bag admiring the gesture, “You sure?” and I nod my head, “Sure”. Next my Mum hops out of the front seat and throws her arms around me and gives me a big kiss on the cheek, “We missed you” and I’ve missed her and my whole family.

The journey home isn’t as long as it is after a normal work day, it’s Sunday after all and the roads home are clear. The afternoon light is bright and it isn’t as incredibly hot as it can be in November. When we get to my place Mum and John come inside and I make them a cup of tea, while we sip our tea I give Mum the sarong and she is pleased with it. They stay for a few hours, we talk long into the afternoon until early the best of the light begins to fade. Mum says, “We’d better make tracks” and I walk Mum and John out to the car, I give Mum a kiss and hug goodbye and promise we’ll catch up at my sisters during the week.

I come back inside my place and I call my Dad to let him know I’m okay, he sounds like he’s been dozing through the afternoon on the couch and I don’t pester him for long and tell him I’m at home, safe and sound. He tells me we’ll catch up soon and that I can tell him all about it. This makes me happy and as I go to hang up he says, “Are you feeling better now?” and I tell him that “I am” and he says “Good” and then hangs up.

I unpack all my stuff and dump my laundry into the washing machine, then I go online for a little bit to say ‘word up’ to the rest of the Drunkards on Team Speak but I don’t stay long, I’m on TS just long enough to say Hello, to let people know I made it home and I’m in one piece. I log off Team Speak and then shut down my PC and go into the bathroom to take a shower.

* * *

I’m alone now, but then I’m not really alone anymore, I recognise that there are always people around me, orbiting somewhere in my galaxy, looking out for me, guiding me towards better things.
As I stand there under the shower rose, the water is hot and it helps loosen up the tension in my shoulders, I relax and breath deeply and then I begin to realise what kind of a holiday that I’ve just had. I try to articulate what I’ve experienced into song and verse and there is equal confusion as to how I might explain my journey to my Dad or family and friends. But then these thoughts of confusion just drift away as deep down inside I already know what it is I’ve discovered, there is no need to search for an long drawn out meaning when it’s actually a simple combination of things, brought on by people and places that makes you realise what’s been missing in your life, so that when you search for it so deep down inside yourself, you can sum it up with a single word.

I climb into bed early, eager for sleep and as I lay there looking up at the ceiling I can see the stars in the heavens. It’s here I give thanks to the seven stars that orbit my thoughts now, I take the time to note our contributions to one another, I thank Malaysia for showing me the importance of family, the importance of kindness to other people in our lives, I thank the lord for opening my eyes to what’s been missing in my life for too long.

It’s love. A big love to be sure and there’s so much of it to give in so many different forms, like the love for family, the love for one’s friends, the love for thyself, the love to strangers and the love that you may offer to another.

I know I’m not alone now, I’m just one of many people who feel just like me, in a way I’m sure we all belong to each other, as a kind, like the love that bonds siblings. It’s with this love we hold onto the dreams of wish fulfilment and we find the courage within to love one another unconditionally and to search for it for ourselves.

I know what I need in life now, I know that for my part anyway I’m different, changed, and I don’t ever want to go back to where I was before this time of knowing.

For those who become changed by this feeling in our hearts we all share in these truths; dreams are there to be realised, life is there to be lived, people are to become who they are meant to be, and in our everyday lives there must be love, for without it, out of all that is left pure in the world, without love inside our hearts everything else is meaningless.

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Wednesday, November 9, 2022

Seven Stars - Day 9 - Sunday - Home - Heaven

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