
For three days this week, I felt like a traveler again, despite having journeyed no farther than 12 kilometers from my home to a place so achingly familiar to me and some family members.
The purpose of the trip was a face-to-face live-in workshop of the kind that had been part and parcel of my work pre-pandemic. After being cooped up at home for almost two years, seeing no one other than mostly relatives, and learning to regard physical contact with others as unhealthy, taking part in a once-normal workshop seemed like a novelty, a culture surprise (not shock). And because it meant checking into a hotel for two nights, I had to pack my bags and take on the role of traveler.
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