Same Same but Different

Prologue

Seventeen hours.

Twelve hours from Los Angeles to Seoul. Twelve hours I should have spent sleeping, but instead I watched movies, played (and lost) checkers and Yahtzee on the console in front of me, and ate all the snacks and drank all the wine Korean Air offered.

Five hours from Seoul to Phnom Penh. Five hours I spent flipping through the pages of a worn guidebook, pretending I didn't know my way around my final destination, attempting to stretch my airplane stiff muscles and not fill with jealousy for those in business class with more legroom.

Essentially, I did everything in my power to avoid thinking about why I was on my way to southeast Asia. Mindless games momentarily removed the memory of the funeral. Sappy rom-coms helped me forget that the carry-on tucked overhead held an urn.

Leave it to my sister to insist that her ashes be scattered all over the world. A month ago I started this ridiculousness in Mozambique. Mozambique! A little more than a third of my sister was still there. There was an incident with a snake and I may have let more than the correct share of ashes fly as I ran away from what I am ninety-nine percent certain was a black mamba. They have those in Mozambique, right?

Her instructions looked simple on paper. Take Faith's ashes to every country she had been stationed at as a Marine Security Guard. Her first post had been in Moz, as Faith called it, in a city called Maputo. There she shared a small apartment with three other Marines a stone's throw from the equally small US Embassy. It was the smallest of the posts she was stationed at. I never visited her in Mozambique. When I scattered her ashes at a relatively secluded beach on the edge of a true jungle, I deeply regretted my inability to afford a trip to Africa when Faith was alive. The whole trip, freaky snake included, would have been more fun with Faith making fun of my malaria pills and constant application of bug spray.

Faith's second post was Rome. Strangely, Faith hated it. She complained about the crowds and cat calls from stereotypical Italian men. Though seemingly out of Faith's character, the instructions included Rome anyway. Take a pinch and throw it in the Trevi Fountain without getting arrested. It wasn't that Faith adored the fountain; it was her own little dig at the overcrowded tourist destination. Like littering. I got a kick out of that, in spite of the fear of repercussions. I took a pinch of Faith and tossed her over my shoulder like a lucky coin. No one noticed the puff of ashes floating into the sparkling water.

Faith's final post had been Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The US Embassy was a newer one. The Marine house was on the Embassy site and held the six other Marines plus the detachment commander comfortably. I actually visited the Marine house in Phnom Penh frequently. As if the planets had aligned, my sister and I lived in the city at the same time. I, fed up with the starving artist life, happened upon a job as an art teacher at Asian Hope International School. I moved into an apartment above Boupha, probably one of my favorite people in literally the entire world, that had a view of the Tonle Sap River. Well, if you looked over the line of tin-roofed shacks, past the den of street dogs, and squinted you could see the river. More importantly, I could ride my bike both to work and to the US Embassy to see my sister. The teaching contract was for two years, so I was there when Faith arrived at post and when she left. It was at a cafe not far from the Embassy that Faith told me she didn't plan to reenlist when her time was up. She spoke of another trip to Iraq or Afghanistan though. Faith was smart enough to know that she had another tour in the Middle East before she could leave permanently. She'd signed on for four years and three of those included her MSG duties. When I waved goodbye to her at the Phnom Penh Airport I never in my wildest dreams would have thought it would be the last time I saw her. She took leave, visited our parents, and was then promptly shipped off to Afghanistan. She'd done a deployment before. It was old hat. I figured I'd be back living in the states and would even pick her up from the airport when she came home for good.

That's not how things went and nothing would help me forget it.

Well, almost nothing.