I'm reaching as far north as I've ever been. Flying to South Korea today, I'm currently somewhere over northern Canada with about ten hours left of the longest flight/journey I've ever taken from my home/life/everything. My anxiety is certainly high while on this flight. I'm nervous about a few things. First, I'm getting sick and I hope a good nights rest will help me recover quickly. I don't want to spend my two weeks away sick. Second, I'm uncomfortable about being diabetic while this far away. I'm confident I can manage my blood sugar levels, but I'm fearful of losing my supplies and being in foreign countries without access to my medical team. I sent a message to a friend, mentor, and fellow diabetic musician who played with Joe Henderson and has led a long life and successful career as a touring artist/healthy diabetic for some advice just before I boarded the plane. The advice, "Check your blood sugar often and if you eat food you are not familiar with, go easy on the insulin units. Take a container of honey with you for the nights, in case you wake up suddenly with hypoglycemia. Always carry snacks with you. Don't bring your honey in your carry on bag. TSA will take it from you. You can get OJ on board the plane if you need it. Enjoy your trip and play beautifully." The last sentence is particularly inspiring.
I've never wanted to go to China, it is a very unknown place to me. I'm sure if something did go wrong, I wouldn't have trouble finding refills, but the unknown scares me. Perhaps this is what is really bothering me.
Three hours into this flight, I don't feel like I am on a journey of exploration or growth. In my past before I was diabetic, any trip I took away from home for me was a time for experience and learning. (I'd like to think, like those existentialists and their adventures we all have heard so much about). This trip though, I feel as if I am running from my life, rather than dealing with it. I have this dream of being a successful musician, but as I sit here achieving it, I wonder if this goal is just an escape. I'm not excited to go to the other side of the earth. I'm very happy to work in music, but as I sit here, I'm not excited. Is music an escape for me from my problems? Have I been using it to avoid things in my life? What would it mean for me to stay put and work on my personal issues? How do I get to the point where I am excited and happy everyday with the way things are in my life? Or am I just nervous on a plane, high above Canada? Perhaps once I am on the ground teaching and performing all these questions will fade. The flight back to the US should give me plenty of time to assess these questions.
Other much more personal questions arise. My anxiety is definitely high and there is more than enough time to think on this 15 hour flight. Some realizations though: the earth is absolutely massive and I don't think I could be an astronaut anymore.
To be continued on the return trip...
September 29, 2014: On the ferry to Hong Kong from Zhuhai, China.
The last three days in Zhuhai at the Contemporary Music Institute were incredible. I have never been treated with more kindness and respect.
After traveling for basically two full days (NYC -> Newark -> Detroit -> Incheon, Korea -> Hong Kong, China -> Zhuhai, China via subway, shuttle train, walking, small jet, huge jet, van, same van again the next morning, HK express "grift bus airlines", ferry, and finally SUV) I arrived at my hotel. My new friends Pump and Sky ask if we would like to have dinner. After 48 hours of non stop travel an actual sit down meal sounds incredible. I'm imagining a local bar, a beer, and a cheese burger. Why I expected this in China, I have no idea. I'd reason though it has something to do with me being an American. My bandmates and I say yes to dinner and we arrive to meet the CEO of the CMI Ms. Jo, with the entire staff to great us for an official dinner and welcome. We sit at a very large circular table and are served more different types of food than I have ever seen. My wine glass is never empty for one second during the meal. We are treated as honored guests and they are truly excited to have musicians like us teaching at their school for the next three days. In the moment though, I cannot comprehend any of this at all. After such a long journey and a life of feeling unwanted as a musician in the US, this is almost too much for me to handle. People carry my bags, bring me water all day (I'm attempting to suppress my cold and we are in the tropics, it's so hot), get me medicine, take me and my colleagues to special lunches/dinners where I never eat the same food twice, clean my room, cover my every need. I want to help the students and the school as best I can.
Before arriving in China I was very apprehensive about what I would encounter. From my US perspective China seemed dirty, rude, a rival. Now having been to Zhuhai for three days I easily have learned China is nothing like anything I could have imagined. Firstly, it's huge, unbelievably big. Zhuhai, called a "Nice quiet small town" by Pump. It is a massive city that makes places like Philadelphia seem small and quaint. I can't imagine how big Honk Kong is going to be. China is also growing so fast. So often I would see apartment buildings 25 stories high or more in groups of 10 or more being constructed. (The scaffolding around the buildings is made of bamboo, mind blowing.) People are saying China is beginning it's Industrial Revolution. You see building and construction everywhere. But you also see elderly people picking through the trash with their specific trash picking tools. The disparity is as striking as the growth.
To me, it seems as if Jazz is just getting to China. People love music here. The CMI is the first jazz school in southern China. Making the total number of jazz schools in China, two. We had roughly 20 students from areas as far away as northern China/Mongolia who took a train for 44 hours to get to Zhuhai. Each student was incredible. Only hours after a lesson, the students would be incorporating the new techniques into their playing. A student came to me after my history of jazz saxophone master class and said it was so eye opening for him that he couldn't sleep the night after it. It was a great honor for me to have such amazing students. I felt like we truly helped them in the musical lives.
An idea I have been struggling with the days leading up to China is my self worth as a musician and individual. I've always worked very hard at music and my various jobs, but I've always felt like I wasn't good enough, blue collar and not proud of it. Because NYC is so competitive it can be very difficult to see where you stand on a global scale. In someways, even now as I ride the ferry, I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that my skill as a musician and the type of person I am have allowed me the opportunity to travel to the other side of the planet and experience such kindness, respect, and generosity. I'm hoping I can carry the gift of this feeling with me back to NYC and sustain it.
I am also very proud of my blood sugar levels thus far on the trip. I have easily eaten 100 to 200 new foods in the last three days and I have maintained great levels. I am really proud of myself.
October 2, 2014: Guest House Pan: Daegu, South Korea
Woke up this morning in Daejon, S. KR. I am so sick. I have to see a doctor today. First though, the train to Gimcheon to teach a masterclass and perform a concert at Eugen's former high school. We've been traveling so much that as soon as I take my seat, I fall asleep. Feeling exhausted and terrible doesn't begin to describe how I feel today. I'm excited though, it's only been a couple days in Korea and again the people have been incredibly receptive.
All of the sudden I wake up and we're in Gimcheon; it's time to get off the train. We meet the administrators of the school and yet again I am blown away by how graciously we are treated. The principal greets us in his office around another large round meeting table. Eugen, the principal, and the head administrator talk for a few minutes about our journey so far and what lies ahead. They say how glad they are to have us at their school and I feel like an honored and welcomed guest. The schedule for the day is sorted and I have some time. I tell the administrator that I must see a doctor today, I'm not getting better. His assistant drives me to the doctor and I know I am in good hands.
Seeing a doctor in Korea was unbelievably easy. No appointments. No calling insurance companies to verify coverage or primary care information. No random bills in the mail for unforeseen amounts afterwards. Just show up, pay 20$, and get taken care of. So, I go to the office, check in, they take my vitals, I see the doctor. I tell the doctor my story, he does his examination, I receive my prescription. My driver friend goes to the pharmacy across the street, gets the meds and we head back to the school. Total time, 30-45 mins. Absolutely unbelievable. The meds are even thoughtfully divided for you and marked when you need to take them. The US healthcare system could learn a thing or two from what I experienced in Korea. Back to school for my masterclass and performance.
I feel like a broken record but I am again overwhelmed by how much people in Asia appreciate music. The students at the school are acting as if rock stars are visiting for the day and are going to teach them all how to destroy a dressing room. I ask the students if there is a place in the school where I can get some snacks and tea? 15 overly anxious and excited students lead me through the school, some with instruments in tow to the school cafe. I feel like I'm in the center of a tornado. After our performance that afternoon students sneak into the backstage area for photos and autographs, gawking at how tall our drummer Justin is and how amazing we all are. It's time to leave Gimcheon, no bag carrying for the band. The students carry our things and we leave like heros. Unbelievable.
So, back on the train. Time to head to Daegu. Find my seat, asleep again. We arrive at Guest House Pan an hour late. This place is incredible. It's my first time at a tradition Korea Guest House. It's like the Korean equivalent of my dream weekly gig. Small intimate setting with high ceilings and everything is made of wood. The owner of Guest House is incredibly gracious, especially considering we are an hour late and are basically supposed to be playing as we arrive. She provides us with our meal and lets us start an hour late. Feeling full and happy to be at our final destination for this day, we play two amazing sets and elate the audience. The owner is so happy with our performance she takes us to traditional Korea breakfast the next morning before we head on to Seoul. Again, overwhelming kindness and plates of food.
It's the next morning, we've eaten and we're finally ready to head to Seoul. The only problem is it is a holiday in Korea and the whole country is traveling from city to city. We haven't purchased our train tickets yet and there are concerns that the train will be sold out. What about taking a car to Seoul, we're not that far right? Wrong. We've been taking the KTX all over Korea and it is a high speed train. Daegu is over 4 hours away from Seoul by car. But today is a holiday and the roads are packed, so it would probably take 6 to 7 hours to drive. No one in the band has had any clue how far we've been traveling the whole time in Korea. Each day we've been taking the bullet train for hours to each of our destinations, criss crossing the country side at 150 plus miles per hour. After some unproductive conversations about how we're not going to get to Seoul, someone finally looks to see if there are seats on the KTX and low and behold, there's space. We make it Seoul with time to spare and perform in the largest jazz festival in Asia, the Jarasum Jazz Festival.
October 5th, 2014: Seoul, Korea.
It's nice to be in one city for more than a day or two. We're staying in Bukchon, the historical district of Seoul. Tourists are walking up and down the hills of this beautiful area taking pictures of themselves using what appears to me to be golf clubs with the heads replaced by cell phones. I call them, "Selfie Sticks". I haven't seen these yet in the US, but I'm sure they'll appear soon.
After playing Jarasum I feel this kind of emotional let down. We've played the gig we set out to do and now we're doing small venues all over Seoul. We expected to play for thousands of people at Jarasum as it was billed as Asia's largest jazz festival. But our audience was roughly 150 people. Everything was beautiful about the gig though. The stage, the sound, the audience, all incredible. The only problem was, it was freezing. I'm still not feeling 100% and I'm worried walking pneumonia is in my future. Tour is definitely beginning to take it's toll, I am excited about the idea of returning to the US to rest and recover for a week.
My last couple days in Seoul turn out to be amazing though (big surprise). Although we're playing what appear to be small venues to me, we're playing the most important venues in Korea. It's an awesome feeling. Audiences are gracious and excited to hear our music and meet us. I haven't really been able to practice the last couple weeks while on the road but I feel like I am able to play any idea I have in my mind on my instrument. It's a very cool feeling. This is the first jazz tour I've ever done and it's an amazing feeling musically to perform every night like this.
I'm realizing a lot of the fears I was experiencing on the plane to Asia are fading. Seoul feels like New York to me. I'm playing gigs all over the city and mentoring students in the art form I love. It's a great feeling. I wish I could live this type of life more often. While on tour I'm booking gigs back in NYC and hiring musicians that inspire me. I'm beginning to fully understand all the work I've done this last year to produce my first album and what a great feeling that is. I'm excited to produce more albums and put out the ideas that are floating around in my head. I feel a personal acceptance of where I am in my life and am happy with what I am doing and working on. I know I am heading on a path that will hopefully lead me to achieve my dreams. It's awesome.
A gig or two more and then it's time to head back to America.
October 9th, 2014: State side, NYC.
I'm still sick. My roommates confirm, I sound like hell. Physically, I feel destroyed. The antibiotics I received in Korea worked on killing my sinus infection, but I have yet to kick my cough and congestion. As a diabetic though, I am thriving. I had plenty of supplies during my journey and my blood sugar levels were spot on the entire trip. I also didn't loose any of my supplies. It was much easier to keep my sugar levels in an acceptable range in Asia than in the US because the levels of carbohydrates in each meal there were much lower. Much of the meals were protein and vegetable based with a side of a cup of rice. I'm actually missing this style of food now that I'm back home.
I definitely feel like a different person after this trip/tour. I've actually never experienced anything quite like it. I got way more of an existential journey than any other of my previous trips. Perhaps with diabetes more is at stake while I'm away from my comfort zone. Perhaps because I've had to become much more aware of my self and surroundings through having diabetes I was much more perceptive on this trip. Adding to that going to a place for the first time that is truly like no where I have ever been doesn't hurt.
Life with diabetes is a constant battle. It requires my constant attention and management. It unfortunately takes priority over most everything in my life. It makes everything all day and night more difficult. Through the struggle of learning to live and manage this disease though I feel like I'm becoming a stronger and better person. It's odd, by losing certain parts of my life (like the ability to process sugars) I feel like I'm getting more of what I desire out of it. I wish there was a cure for Type 1 diabetes, I would take it in a heart beat and I can't imagine how great it would feel to go back to a life without diabetes. But, through diabetes I've learned so much more than just counting carbs, insulin ratios, how inept the insurance and medical companies are. I know there are difficult times ahead with diabetes and when they arise I need to remind myself of my successes like this tour, how great I feel after it, and how I didn't let this disease stop my dreams.
With lots of words comes lots of music:
