Epilogue: Final speech on the Plan - Alexandria, United States .

Virginia Tuesday, November9, 2010 Return to America, return to realityWe arrived in Dallas at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday, September 5, 2010. I tried, but couldn't sleep on the 11-hour flight from Tokyo. Then I stayed awake all day. By late afternoon, I could not form coherent sentences.Like six months ago when we first arrived in Morocco, I felt culture shock once again in Dallas.

he familiar seemed foreign: the American accent, clean bathrooms, customer service, capitalism, fat people.I was initially afraid to potable water from the tap.I wasn't sure which way to expect when crossing the street.It took a long time to conform to the time change; I slept weird hours for more than a week.We stayed with friends in Dallas for about a month while we looked for a site to be in Washington, DC. Then we moved-new city, new friends. I started looking for jobs.I linked the 9.6 percent of Americans who are unemployed.Returning from a six-month world tour is sobering.Briefstatement of introspection

Tibet.

In his book, Freedom in Exile, the Dalai Lama aptly describes the rate of travel: "Especially, I receive the opportunity offered by traveling to see and talking with masses from different walks of life-some poor, some rich, some well educated, some ill educated, some who are religious, many who are not.So far, I have received only hold for my opinion that wheresoever you go, people everywhere are essentially the same, despite certain superficial differences."Was the trip worth it?To me, yes. We met some very interesting people and did some astonishing things. And now that we've done it, I no longer feel that urgent need to traipse around the world. Moving every few years is exhausting, not to name the day-to-day challenges of being a foreigner.I would be remiss if I didn't mention that we get some very nice friends.Thanks to the masses who emailed and video chatted with me while I was away.Thanks to the masses took charge of things while we were gone (special thanks to you, Angie, for accepting all those packages and dealings with the post office). Thanks to Kristen and David for giving us a ceiling over our heads those first few weeks back.Right before I left the firm, a fellow attorney emailed me this poem, OMe! O Life!by Walt Whitman.It struck me at the time, and still more so now that the travel is over.So, I'll close with its words:O Me! O life!. of the questions of these recurring;Of the endless trains of the faithless-of cities fill`d with the foolish;Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)Of eyes that vainly crave the light-of the objects mean-of the struggle ever renew`d;Of the short results of all-of the grind and sordid crowds I see around me;Of the empty and useless years of the rest-with the rest me intertwined;The question, O me! so sad, recurring-What good amid these, O me, O life?Answer.That you are here-that life exists, and identity;That the right play goes on, and you will give a verse.