Deviation from Reality

Although it has been almost a month since I last posted, that does not mean I have not been busy...just in a different way than how I spent my first four weeks as an Ambassadorial Scholar.

As some of you are aware, my paternal grandmother passed away two years ago. She always made the extra efforts to be close to her grandchildren, and I spent a lot of time with her baking cookies, visiting botanical gardens, picking fruit from her backyard, and learning our family history from her fascinating stories. Despite the long months my family spent together cleaning out her house and reliving the memories from her life, we never organized a formal farewell. "Grammy" loved Hawaii and determined at a young age that it was the only place in the world she deemed worthy of visiting despite the (physical and literal) pains of traveling. This meant that I was lucky enough to spend almost every other summer of my childhood exploring a different Hawaiian island with my parents, brother, grandmother, aunt and uncle, and cousins. For such a large group, we were always perfect travel companions and friends; snorkeling together at tranquil beaches, hiking through dense bamboo forests to access hidden waterfalls, and peacefully tanning like bookworm lizards . The last family trip that we took together was in 2003 on Kauai, and we all envisioned that the best way to lay Grammy to rest was by dispersing her ashes into the tropical Pacific. Despite the fact that I live on a different continent while the rest of my family lives in Southern California, it was extremely important for me to be with them for this event.

For this reason I spent the first days of August trekking between the Medellin, Miami, Los Angeles, and Lihue airports; experiencing massive culture-shock when I stepped into the perfectly manicured streets of Kauaii and was greeted (in English) by splendid first-world vacationland. We spent our entire time relaxing; cooking wonderful meals for each other, taking short day trips along the NaPali coast, and basking in Gram memories. At Secret Beach we all convened to spill her ashes in turquoise tide pools, placing fresh plumaria flowers on top of the water to trace her journey into the ocean. I was surprised at how little pain from her death remained while missing her presence so vividly; my mourning eased by recalling all the happy grandma memories I have stored away. If anything, we were living out the message that Grammy stressed most vividly to my family: stick together and remain close friends--exactly what the eight of us were accomplishing by aligning our busy lives to spend the week together. I knew that wherever she is now Gram was beaming down on us and wouldn't want us to be anything but content standing on a Hawaiian beach together in her honor.

With the birth of my cousin's baby a year ago to commence the next generation of Shaws and the upcoming marriage of my other cousin, we all know that our family is happily expanding into new faces and traditions. This was the last time we had to be together in our old format, and I think that everyone quietly relished the simple fluidity of each other's company. After spending my first month in the new anonymity of Medellin, it was both comforting and somewhat disconcerting for me to be reminded of my obvious roots.

I sometimes like to think that my personality and life I have created for myself is a result of my independent drive and accumulation of vast experience. But after seeing the conglomerate of traits I have inherited from both sides of the family mirrored in my parent's countenance and decision-making during the past weeks I knew that I will never be able to break out of my family's strong mold. Not that I would want to anyway since overall I consider myself extremely fortunate to come from such an amazing line-up of people.

Now back to my real life of public health research as an American scholar/superstar in a foreign country, if it can be considered as such. Grammy would be proud of me.