Ten:

Dave/Dev

it’s tricky to write late at night. that much I’m learning fo’ sho’. I’m more of an early morning girl, any way you look at it. It’s when I’m most aware, sharp, able to carry on a conversation with other human beings. When I set my alarm for 5:00 and methodically trudge downstairs, I can roll through my routine of making coffee and turning on the news and taking the dog out in the 20-degree weather, no problem. Then I settle down with my warm cuppa joe and write. 

But when life necessitates that I wait until the evening to write, it ain’t so pretty. My brain cells fire at approximately 1/15th of the speed at which they normally function, and my creativity sinks to an unattainable level. That’s on a good day. On a day full of traveling, a long plane ride across the country, and a late night out for dinner with one of my best friends in the world whom I haven’t seen in two years . . . .well, then when I wait ‘til late to write, it’s actually 1:50 a.m. East Coast time; but I’m now on the West Coast and barely know what I’m saying. 

I’m excited to learn these nuances of my writing habits because that means I actually have writing HABITS. For me, a romantic fool who fancies herself one day writing something that means something to someone in the world, that is ginormous. But the fact that I just had to re-write the word “actually” in the first line five times means that I best stick to what I know: writing when my brain works, early in the day. 

So if this post is feeling a little like a waste of your time, I apologize. I simply wanted to make sure I write every day to complete the 360 circle. Traveling across this beautiful, chaotic, diverse country means seeing glimpses of life and culture everywhere, so it’s been a fun day of being aware, eyes open, gratitude deep. Choosing what to write about tonight was tricky, because there has been so much on my radar the past 18 hours, so instead, I’ll just feel a little more grateful for running into Dave, my cab driver, who safely (and quite speedily) maneuvered me from SFO airport to my sweet friend’s apartment.

Dave’s name is actually “Dev,” he spelled out for me, but pronounced like the American counterpart “Dave.” A young, early-twenties-ish dark-haired guy, he and I struck up a conversation as soon as I got in the cab. As my family can tell you, that’s a bonus, and perhaps another time, I’ll address in more detail the beauty of reaching out to strangers, ‘cause it’s a philosophy that is pretty much central to each of my days,, but for now, I’ll just say I was grateful for my brief, 20-minute conversation with Dev, who lives here, far, far away from his family in Nepal, making a life for himself, going to school, experiencing cultures and opportunities and a life so insanely different from the one he knew as a boy. I asked him questions about Nepal, and he asked me questions about Virginia, telling me only after a while that he went to college in West Virginia for a while before transferring to Dallas. Now, living on the West Coast in beautiful California, he hopes to establish residency, so he can soon go to Berkley, where he’s been accepted but cannot yet afford.

I found myself rooting for Dev/Dave more and more as the fare increased. When I wished him well at the end of the trip, I meant it (and was secretly wishing he’d keep in touch and tell me how his future goes). Dev showed me so much more of the world than he knows in that short cab ride. It wasn’t just a commute from the airport to the city; I walked away being able to picture his family (with three older brothers and a younger sister, who will never leave home because she’s too close to her mother), loving each other in tiny Nepalese village. I pictured a boy brave enough to start a life for himself on the other side of the globe, one who has become well-spoken, kind, interested, educated. Fear has always stopped me from making a move so huge, so I am inspired by him in so many ways, as well as humbled by him for even more.

Ahead, the next few days holds a girls’ weekend with friends I met more than 20 years ago. I can’t wait. But I think I’m going to hold that short cab ride pretty close to this sleep-deprived heart for a long, long time. For now, I'm heading to sleep, sweet memories of a simple cab ride zooming in my head.