Webbie Dong was Born
Years ago, on a business trip to New Delhi, I stumbled off the plane after a 16-hour flight in a dazed, dehydrated mess. It was midnight, the air smelled stuffy and tired passengers swarmed all around me.
I just needed to find a bed and sleep for a million years.
I walked past customs, the fluorescent lights flickering above me, and I scanned the crowd for my driver. It felt funny having one especially since I had spent part of my 20s backpacking through S.E. Asia on my own, living out of a bag. But my Delhi office insisted on a driver for my own safety especially at that late hour.
Then I spotted a guy carrying a sign: "Welcome Mr. Webbie Dong".
I squinted and shook my head. What part of that sign is correct?? I dismissed the idea that it could be me, chalking it up to the possibility that there could indeed be a Webbie Dong. After all, I was extremely jetlagged and who was I to second guess someone's name so closely akin to mine? I kept walking.
Wait a second...what if...?
I turned back and approached him.
Me: Sir, I'm Debbie Wong. I think you're my driver.
Him: (looking me up and down) I'm looking for Mr. Webbie Dong.
Me: I think there's been a spelling error. Really, it's me.
Him: Oh. What's your good name? (I love how they ask that question India! Sounds cool.)
Me: Wong.
Him: (looking at his placard sign) But I'm looking for Dong.
Me: That's wrong. I mean, I'm Wong. And I'm not a Mister.
Him: (laughing) oh yes, I see! You are not a Mister. My apologies.
Me: (showing him my business card) No problem.
Him: Okay, follow me Webbie. The car is just around the corner.
Me: Um, my name is Debbie, not Webbie.
Him: (laughs again) Oh yes, okay so sorry. Ms. Dong, please follow me.
Clearly he was confused. The rest of the week proved interesting. He was assigned to not only be my driver, but also my "buddy" or helper throughout the week as I set up for training classes and meetings. Still, he insisted on calling me Webbie. I guess the name stuck. Each morning, he shouted across the room, "Webbie, what kind of tea would you like? Assam tea?" I spent the first part of the week correcting him and he often chuckled and corrected himself. But the next day, he reverted back to the beloved nickname Webbie.
He turned out to be really sweet, despite his naming disorder, and he checked on me constantly in between meetings to make sure I had enough tea or water. Every day for lunch, he ordered me a chicken burger since "that's what foreigners must like," he confided with a wink. It was as plain and hard as cardboard. As a "guest", he wanted me to feel special. So I always sat in a different room for visitors to eat my lunch. He decorated the table with nice flatware, folded napkins and a white plate where the horrid chicken burger sat.
On the third day, I peeked into the staff kitchen and discovered the whole team sitting around a big clay pot of chicken biryani. The wondrous smell of spices enticed me to stay. I asked for some. My buddy grew serious and said in a protective way, "Oh you are a guest. This is too spicy for you. You don't like the chicken burger?" I shook my head. He scooped up some chicken biryani into a bowl and I scoffed down a few mouthfuls. The heat rose instantly from my throat to my tongue until my lips burned. My eyes watered as I gulped down water. Still, I persisted and finished my bowl. My buddy laughed and bellowed, "Oh Webbie, you can eat spicy food!" It was delicious and I helped myself to more.
I grew to really appreciate his little quirks and his heartfelt exchanges, and I stopped correcting his pronunciation of my name. After all, he made a mean cup of assam tea. In fact, he turned out to be my buddy every time I visited the Delhi office after that.
Years later, I received an email from an unknown address to announce his departure from the company. When I saw the first line "Hello Webbie...", I knew it was him.
Remembering New Delhi with Hope, Curiosity and Loneliness
Remembering smells and sounds bring back memories from childhood, from past travels, often remembrances I hadn’t thought about in years. Sometimes a flood of emotions rushes back, sometimes just one word.I arrived in New Delhi a couple of days ago. And when I walked out of the airport and smelled the air - a unique blend of pollution and dust with a tinge of burnt nuts – a strange word came to mind: HOPE.
Around six years ago, I started a new job and I flew to New Delhi for a senior management meeting. My first business trip with the company! And I wanted to make a good impression. I stepped out of the terminal and I was immediately greeted by the bustling city: I smelled the strange new air, heard the cacophony of blaring horns from nearby trucks and saw the blur of yellow hooded green tuk-tuks speeding by.As my taxi cruised down the road to my first meeting, I observed the ever-changing sights of the city. I thought that no matter what, in this new job, I was meant to grow, and to not be afraid of change. I felt HOPE.That was six years ago. Many business trips later, I’m still here with the same company. Funny how I remembered that fleeting moment from so long ago.
Yesterday, on my way to Connaught Place, a popular shopping area in New Delhi, I passed by a bus stop. I watched passengers shuffle onto the bus. Then I heard the familiar clang-clang of coins dropping into the fare box. How rare these days to hear coins since most commuters now use paper tickets. Then I stopped for a second and suddenly, a surprising feeling emerged: CURIOSITY
Instantly, I was brought back to the first time I took the bus by myself.
I was 13 years old armed with a bulging change purse with Hello Kitty emblazoned on the front. My mother had given it to me with the warning to not talk to strangers and to keep the extra $20 in change handy, just in case. I remembered hearing the familiar sound of coins clanging into the box, followed with the shwoo-lump of the lever to release the change, then the whooo-wup of the doors closing behind me. That bus ride down Boundary Road and onwards to downtown Vancouver where I would meet my friends was so exciting for me then. I felt free, independent and CURIOUS about the world as I saw the familiar stores pass by me.
Finally, last night, I headed back to my hotel room, put on some music and flipped through a New Delhi newspaper. The English Patient soundtrack came on. I paused – and I felt LONELINESS. I was instantly taken back to the summer of 2000. I had just moved to New York and didn't know a soul. I was living in an apartment in Astoria, Queens, a stone's throw away from a huge Blockbuster's where I rented a lot of videos. A lot. My favorite movie that summer was The English Patient, a beautiful and moving love story. I bought the soundtrack and frequently listened to it. To this day, the English Patient theme song always echoes and stays a bit longer in my head. It reminds me of the loneliness I felt in those early days in New York and the kinds of dark questions I often asked myself: What am I doing here? Am I meant to live here?
Well, New Delhi is waking up and I am scooting out to enjoy the day, to experience new things and to create more memories. Perhaps years later, I will remember this trip and think “Remember that time in New Delhi…?”
7 Tips On How to Beat Jet Lag
I travel. A LOT. 20% of the time for work to all four corners of the earth as well as int'l trips a year for vacation and visiting family. Although I love the thrill of exploring new places, jet lag is a killer. And it can be debilitating especially after traveling across the Pacific for 14 hours only to land, shower at my hotel and then head straight into the office for a meeting. What's even harder is overcoming the sleepiness that hits you suddenly mid-afternoon as well as battling the staring-at-the-ceiling-at-3-am syndrome. It can be terrible. So how do you beat it?
Over the years, I've developed some good tips to beat jet lag and still function well throughout the day. My method totally works for me and maybe these tips can also help you, whether you're traveling across the country or across several time zones.
1. Take 1 or 2 Tylenol PMs before going to bed that first night you arrive. Unbelievable how well this works! You have to "trick" your body into thinking it's time to sleep for a full night. The internal body clock is confused anyway when you arrive. I find the Tylenol PMs help me to not only fall asleep but also to STAY asleep so I get at least 6 or 7 hours of sleep that first night.
2. Take a mini nap (no more than 2 hours) if you've arrived at your destination early in the morning. This is probably just as important as #1. I've made the mistake before of arriving at 6 am in Paris, then taking a huge long nap from 10 am - 4 pm. Boom - I'm wide awake after that and no matter what, I'm screwed because I can't go to sleep later that evening. So set that alarm, give yourself 2 hours, and then go out - see the city, walk around and then come back later to sleep. Oh and also do #1.
3. If arriving later in the day, do your best to stay awake. If you end up going to sleep too early like at 7 pm then you'll definitely wake up in the middle of the night. After an international flight, I'll try to have a light dinner and go for a walk so I don't fall asleep right after eating. Then I try to stay awake until at least 10 or 11 pm.
4. Take Tylenol PM in smaller dosages on the second and third night. Why, you ask? Because you have to train your body to believe it's now night time and ready to sleep. Remember, you take the TPMs not to fall asleep, but to STAY asleep until the morning. So by the time it's the third night on the trip, I'm down to half a tablet and then I'm usually fine for the rest of the trip. I follow the same routine when I come back home from traveling too.
5. Drink plenty of water on the plane and throughout the trip. Hydration is key! If you're dehydrated, then your body will have to work extra hard to stay focused and be active. Rule of thumb for me is to drink double the amount of water I normally do when traveling.
6. Make sure you schedule light activities on your first day. I usually don't plan any major team dinners my first or second night on a biz trip because I'm usually so tired by the time 6 pm rolls around. It's amazing - I feel great when I wake up and then come 4 pm, I hit a wall and then it feels like I just went dancing all night long. So keep things light and give yourself the rest you need.
7. Sleep as much as you can on the plane. I don't understand when people say to never sleep on a plane. if you're tired, take a nap. I'm definitely one of those people who can't sleep well anywhere so I end up reading, working or watching a ton of movies. But if I'm tired on the plane, then I'll sleep. No need to put my body through any more fatigue.
Do you have other good tips to battle jet lag? Feel free to share!
When The Bus Broke Down in Tibet
The bus slowed to a halt. Then it lurched forward and coughed black fumes and stopped again. I was finally in Tibet and yet, our bus had officially died only twenty miles from the airport. It seemed like we were never going to get to Lhasa.
A few Tibetan men with lit cigarettes dangling from their chapped lips stepped off the bus. Their jackets were worn and faded by the sun, and lines of thread dangled from the frayed hems of their pants. They squatted by the side of the road and played cards in the dirt. The driver pulled tools from a box under his seat and immersed himself from the waist up under the hood, banging and twisting things.
I needed to go to the bathroom and I wasn’t sure about leaving. The bus could get fixed any minute now.
I peered out the window to find the driver's legs still sticking out from under the hood. His friend tossed a part of the engine up and down in the air, higher and higher while his buddies laughed. Tools were scattered all along the front of the bus and obviously, this was going to be more than just a short stop. It was already afternoon and night would soon be coming.
Getting off the bus was like trying to walk up a crowded escalator. Every seat was occupied, with three people crammed into the two-seater seats. Others, who spilled into the aisles, brought their own wooden stools while carrying bags, live animals and fruit on their lap. I stepped over them and passed torn brown suitcases held together with string. Near the driver’s seat, live chickens, bound by their feet to a shabby straw basket, squawked.
When I stepped out, the sun’s intense rays glared down on me, cooking my black hair so my head was hot to the touch. It did not really occur to me before that being at such a high altitude meant being closer to the sun.
The dirt road stretched out as far as I could see, and as I walked, I admired how smooth and bare the landscape was. The sky was a brilliant deep blue, the kind of purity in color that I first discovered in my kindergarten paint set before learning of other shades like baby blue and peacock navy.
There were no houses, animals or people in sight. The bus was a tiny speck at the bottom of the road and up ahead was just a straight line. However, when I passed a bend in the road, I discovered a small wooden shack. I made a bee-line to it, each step of the way as excruciating as the next. My bladder was going to burst. A small outhouse was just off to the side. It was a tiny concrete box with no doors and two holes in the ground divided by a waist-high wooden partition. I ran in. Relief.
With my pants still wrapped around my ankles, I hobbled out into the daylight; I couldn't bear the stench any longer, and my eyes were starting to water. As I bent over to pull up my pants, I heard a gasp from behind me. I whipped around and tried to cover myself with my hands, but it was too late.
I had just mooned my first Tibetan.
She was a short but sturdy woman in her 30s with a full balloon-like dirt-brown skirt and a cream colored shirt. Beautiful turquoise beads speckled her thick black locks. She carried a homemade broom made out of straw in her hand and a plastic dustpan in the other.
"I'm so sorry!” I exclaimed. “I was just leaving!"
She eyed me up and down without any expression on her face. And then she repeatedly pointed towards her emaciated vegetables and then again at her outhouse. Her face displayed not a hint of animosity but more curiosity with a slight tinge of fear in her eyes. Her mouth was reduced to a tiny red dot below her nose. Maybe she didn’t know how to take me since I was a foreigner but I looked Chinese.
I finally extended my hand out, but she didn't shake it. Remembering something I read in my guidebook, I clasped my hands together and bowed my head, the traditional gesture to greet a Tibetan, especially when entering a temple or someone's home.
Then she smiled, showing her little brown stubs of teeth. We laughed nervously, and I pulled out a bag of peanuts from the airplane for her. She pushed it away from me, still maintaining her smile.
We stood there for several minutes grinning and nodding, until finally, I waved goodbye to her and began walking back to the bus. Down the path, I turned around and she was still at the top of the road, waving away until she looked like a tiny grain blending into the background.
This excerpt is from my book THE SAME SKY - Chapter 4 Sparkler. For more excerpts, click here.
Be Kind and Let Go
My 11-year old niece scribbled down "Be kinder" as her #1 New Year's resolution. The next day, her father promised her a guinea pig and she was so excited. "You know what that means, right?" I asked. She paused, blinked and said, "Yeah, I better be kind. I really want a guinea pig."
She asked me about my #1 New Year's resolution. "Let go more," I replied. "Every day. And be kinder." She giggled and said "Hey that's mine!" Then she got serious and asked, "Only at the beginning of the year?" and I laughed. Should we be kinder and let go and all that stuff every day?
When my husband and I traveled to Turkey in August for our one-year anniversary, we met an American couple also celebrating their anniversary: 50th! They were a cute couple who still held hands.
"What's your secret? Any advice?" we asked them. He was quiet for a few seconds and then said, "I think you have to let go and accommodate." She nodded and said, "Our first year was the hardest. And we've had our ups and downs but I think the first year is tough because we were still trying to figure each other out."
I agree. Our first year has been fantastic yet hard work -- lots of traveling, talking and evenings in watching movies. We've been learning more and more about each other. It's like taking a university course on the other person and not realizing that the course doesn't ever really end. But the midterms can be hard.
In 2013, I asked a number of people what their best piece of advice on marriage and here's what they said:
-don't sweat the small stuff
-be honest: sometimes he can cook a better omelette than you
-after a fight, no matter what, let go of the anger and hug
-you don't have to always be right
Notice they all fall into the same categories of "be kind" and "let go"? And I'm convinced that apart from the usual New Year's resolutions to lose weight and exercise more, people essentially set goals that also have the same themes. We all want to let go more, be happier and treat each other better. Hard stuff but it's so worth it!
One quick story before I sign off: years ago, I came across a Tibetan monk who shared that the greatest pain we feel is when we hold onto anger, jealousy and expectation. He reminded me of the Buddhist philosophy that we are like the water that flows around a rock in a fast moving river. You can't get stuck - you have to keep going, let go, move on and believe that things are meant to be as they are.
What is your New Year's resolution? Write it down...I'm curious to know.
