figdetyconsonance

Being BiPolar...and not like a black and white bear.

2012-01-03T13:45:00.000-08:00

Being Bi-Polar

Feeding the Soul

Traveling has been one of the greatest experiences of mylife. The beauty of traveling isthat everyone’s traveling experience is different. We all do something a different way, even if we start on thesame path from the same advice we find our own way of becoming a traveler. It has opened my eyes to something Icould never have experienced from an office window, through the Internet, orfrom a week long vacation. Throughtraveling I found myself, at least at this present time. We are an ever-evolving organism butfor the first time in my life I know who I am. I may not know what I want to do to earn money, I may not besure if I want to live on the east coast or on the west coast, but what I doknow is that I can look at myself and know that I took the time to look atmyself. I took the time to dosomething for me, not for money, not for education, but for my soul and itsomething I will never regret.

The Effect of BeingHomeless

I feel stifled. Without a place to call my own I feel like I am in-between worlds. I am not traveling but I haven’treturned. I feel like even when Iam working toward something I am still wasting my time. I don’t know what I want and withoutworking I feel like I am wasting my life. But I don’t want to spend my life doing nothing. I miss the road, but I need money to beon the road. This can’t beit. This can’t be the meaning ofit all. This can’t be everything Iwas meant to do. I feel like I didwhen I began this journey. Frustrated and confused as to what the point of life was and is. I know that when I was traveling I feltit. I felt alive. I could feel the point of life beingabout experiencing and learning new things. I could feel how simple things, luxurious things, and peopleall could make life what it is. But even when I felt bored, like there was nothing to do, I still feltinspired. I still felt like I wasenjoying, like everyday even if only for a moment I was learningsomething. Now I can feel two or threedays pass and nothing. Working theland, doing nothing but reading, and talking to people still felt like more ofa purpose then I do now. I feellike I am missing the point. Ifeel trapped.

So…

Is this what travel means? Once you get a taste for traveling it is all the you can doto feel? Is there anyway to feelthe adventure without it? I amsure of it but for some reason at this moment I can’t. I can’t feel it.

Fresh Air - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T13:44:00.001-08:00

There are many things that traveling does to you, one ofwhich is creating an addiction to being outside. In this -1 C (29 F) weather, all I want to do is beoutside. Without it, I feelsleepy, sluggish, and uninspired. But I guess this may be in part to my new addiction to espresso.

What Did I Become?

2012-01-03T13:43:00.000-08:00

At the end of my travels I was proud of my achievement and Icouldn’t imagine a world where this wasn’t required. I still feel that way, but I am able to look back at see theperson who was. I was what Ihated. I was looking down onanyone not living life the way I saw correct. I still feel strongly about living a life that takes intoaccount the future generation and that protects the earth so that we have itsbounty and beauty for those generations to come, but this does not mean that itcan’t be done in a town house in Philadelphia or in a small town in New Jersey.

Memory Lane - NJ

2012-01-03T10:04:00.000-08:00

When I moved out of my parent’s house seven years ago Isold, trashed, or donated most of the things I owned between the ages of 0-19. I had somehow managed to get my pre20’slife down to two Tupperware containers, which I began referring to as memoryboxes.

Sohere I am now sitting on the lime green painted floor of my childhood lookingat the medals, pictures, and notes from my past. It’s amazing to be looking back at the person I was a decadeago. The highlight a showbox filedwith a few handwritten notes from middle school, during my afro stage and lettersfrom my friends and my long distance “boyfriend” when I was 14. The shoebox held tidbits of life fromthat time, right there in print. Ibegan to read through them and found that my “boyfriend” talked a lot aboutbaseball and simply p.s. and p.p.s (post and post post scripted) a heart at thebottom of letters. On a fewoccasions I was lucky enough to get a p.p.p.s of “Love you.” I was there through all of this. I remember receiving the letters. I remember the feeling of opening themailbox and the excitement of seeing that someone had taken the time to writeon both sides of the paper but what I remembered and what was actuallywritten was totally different.

Around1998 these letters and notes stopped for two reasons. One, I was 16 and the notes we passed were usually destroyedfor secrecy purposes. Two, emailcame about. The 16 aspect of thissituation is natural, I could have kept the notes but email is a progressionthat was out of my hands. I nolonger had letters to remind me of life after 16, it was all in email that Ihad long ago deleted.

Onmy lime green floor I find myself saddened that this moment will not be a partof the next generations lives. There are no letters anymore, everything is now email that we need todelete off the server of the world, and notes sadly are disappearing for kidsyounger and younger as the acceptable age of cell phone ownerships lowers andtext plans become commonplace.

This gem could have been lost in time.

Mywishes – For letters to be common again and that I still had the diary I wrotefrom 16-19 that I burned to “protect myself”. What a dumbass. I wonder what 17 year old me would have thought about allthis. All well I will never know.

Keeping it in Perspective - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:56:00.001-08:00

"A" and I had been lucky and smart with our money. Somehow after a year around the worldwe managed to come home with $500 in the bank. I pictured us depending oncredit cards and having to wave goodbye to the Yaris as the bills added up, butsomehow we did it. Some waythrough planning and a lot, like tons, of luck we made it. However before all this, all myprevious experience in the United States was connected to me being gainfullyemployed at two jobs with a little freelance work on the side. I was use to living in a city withmoney.

Duringour first visit back to Philadelphia I began to panic. I thought about the bank account andthe large student loans that would be due in the next couple months, and the math didnot add up to our benefit. So whenI bought a beer at a night out with friends, breathing deep was part of thepurchase.
Somethingelse happened on that trip, I had a conversation with a friend, a friend whohad gone through the same university as me, only a few years later. He wasn’t lucky enough to finish schooljust after Bush started office. Hewasn’t lucky enough to be able to consolidate his loans before the country andthe economy would drop out and use student loan interest to fill the gap. He wasn’t lucky enough to start theuniversity before they began raising tuition 4% and financial aid 1%. He has worked diligently and managed topay off about 17% of his loan after only a couple years, yet he still has a sixfigure debt from just school alone.

Thisfriend, the one who had no control over being born after 1985, is happy,trying, and doing his best to pay back the government and the intense interestthey demand to pay for their own agenda.

Thisday. This day of conversation I amkeeping it in perspective. It’snot his situation specifically, but it’s a reminder that for the most part ourown struggles are not much unlike or worse than those around us.

Thisfriend, who has given me the perspective I needed to feel ok and be able tobreathe, I thank you beyond words. Your strength and your ability to see you own situation through the eyesof those who have less, reminds me of how awesome you are. I know you know whoyou are after reading this and I hope you know that your strength and smile hasput it all in perspective and if I ever win a million dollars I know who I amgiving some cash to.

Why Not?

2012-01-03T09:48:00.001-08:00

Just saw this picture as I searched for another. Thought I would share my love of the mulberry.

Me post mulberry tree attacking...yum Mulberries.

Just for the Paycheck & Tina Fey - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:47:00.000-08:00

I am sick of not having money, but I want my work to meansomething. Is it wrong that I wantto work for a company or organization that means something? Why is that so hard to get? After a year of doing something themeans something, I can’t seem to face the fact that I may have to do somethingjust for the paycheck. And as Isay that a piece of me dies.

Note: I liked this job and felt it had purpose, but I liked this picture so I had to put it somewhere. Blame Tina Fey, she does it in her book.

I Met a Man Today - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:45:00.001-08:00

I met a nice guy today. I forgot how much people try to stand away from others. If traveling taught me anything it isto smile at strangers and don’t shy away from a conversation. Isolation is for the weak.

Random Quote - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:44:00.003-08:00

“What if the internet went down for a year. People would have to learn how to writeagain. People would learn how toknit and stuff.” Seriously is this what you think the world without Internet islike, full of sweaters.

It's the New Library - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:44:00.001-08:00

Coffee shops. They’re the new library really, except drinks allowed and there an no books.

Priorities - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T09:43:00.002-08:00

I had a long conversation with a Spanish farmer during ourtravels who had just gotten his first cell-phone. His problem, that people give priority to people onthe phone. Even landlines, but nowthat the phone is carried everywhere people find it totally acceptable to placethem on the table and pick the phone up whenever anyone rings them no matterwho is with them. We always givepriority to those who call and not those who drove or walked to meet us, why isthat? Be honest, because I know Idid it for a long time as well.

Try to evaluate your own decisions and life instead of whatare you d oing? Makes it moreapproach able instead of feeling like they need to go on the defensive rightaway.

Anger - NJ

2012-01-03T09:43:00.000-08:00

I have no idea what was the trigger, but anything that issaid or done to me today sets me off. I can feel the frustration building and the want to punch and beat thecomputer in front of me.

Shopping - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:42:00.002-08:00

I grab my cart and begin the journey through theaisles. It’s an odd sensationbeing back in the grocery store of organic and local produce. I imagine a small child in a toy-storehas the same feeling. I wantit. Can I have it? There is a sense of peace as I shop andfall back into the routine of shopping the aisles of my once local store. I move slowly, compare prices, andthink about what I can make and what I will need. After months, of traveling and not having my own kitchen Irealize quickly the joy this simple task brings me. Then I get to the cash register, shit there goes my shoppinghigh.

Note: Farmers Market, totally the way to go. Cheaper. Supporting local farmers. Eating in season. Not supporting unsustainable landpractices and hundred of thousand of gallons of petrol for shipping. And bonus, no cash register with anangry hipster as you tell them to take back items.

Real Jobs - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T09:42:00.000-08:00

I miss being a farmer. The life was simple and honest. This doesn’t mean it wasn’t hard work, but it was a direct reward. You are caring for the earth for theanimals and yourself. I need to beoutside. I need to be touching theearth. I realize now that thereason I don’t want to get a job is because I miss the land and the honesty ofthe work. I find a coffee baristaa more important job than an administrative assistant. The work is honest. You are providing a service. You aren’t being paid $20 an hour totype up spreadsheets and find what to do with the last three hours of your daybecause well you are suppose to be in the office until 5. There is an unbalanced basis for whysomeone is paid as much as they are for their work. It is suppose to take into the education and trainingrequire to do the job, the hazard it brings or the difficulty of the job, andyour proficiency at the job. Butthis is not what people’s salaries are based on. Why are people who are trained farmers who work toprovide you with food paid minimum wage? Why is the secretary, sorryAdministrative Assistant, paid $22.50 an hour and the farmer paid or makes onaverage $8 an hour? Which is thesame or less than the high school student working the register atMcDonalds. There is something seriouslywrong there.

Internet - It's Got Status - NJ

2012-01-03T09:40:00.000-08:00

Email. Facebook. Reddit. The rotation is ingrained. This is sad. Itneeds to stop. 30-minute limit onthe internet a day. Check.

Footnote: Why is spell check trying to make me capitalize internet. I guess its made it to proper noun status.

Seeing Past the Stuff - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T09:38:00.001-08:00

I remember the feeling of walking through Ikea before I had money. Wanting to have the perfect house andhaving nice things. I thoughtabout how nice my small apartment would look with the nice wooden bed frame andthe clean edged couch. Ipictured how beautiful I could make the space and how there was no way I wasgoing to ever be able to do that. I also remember five years later going into Ikea and buying all thefurniture I wanted to make my apartment an “adult” apartment with new furnitureand pretty picture frames. It feltnice. I felt established. I also remember watching all my furnitureslowly disappear as I prepared to move abroad. I calculated the amount I spent versus what I made when Isold the furniture, and laughed at the cost I spent for two years of“adultness”.

Now I am armed. Now when I go into Ikea, Target, or anywhere “homey” I think about howmuch money I spent over the years and how little I benefited from theseitems. Now I go into the store,get what I need, and leave without a sense of longing.

It may also have to do with the fact that I basically livein my car.

Traveler - NJ

2012-01-03T09:36:00.000-08:00

Before I left the United States I thought I was becoming atraveler. I thought that byleaving my home for 15 months this meant I was a traveler. I had lived in a car, a tent, numerouscouches, volunteered for a bed, and lived in a van. But the more I traveled themore I realized that there was a much larger and bigger world oftraveling. I want to be a part ofit, but that doesn’t mean I have to do it all at once.

Do you mind if I take this? - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:35:00.001-08:00

BRRIInnnnngggggg…. (that’s a phone ringing sound people) Myfriend reaches down, looks at her phone and asks “Do you mind if I take this?Its….” It doesn’t matter who it is. You respected my presence enough to ask me if I minded. You could have told me it’s your pimpand I would have still smiled and nodded “No worries.” Thank you.

Day Old - Its like leftovers, but cheaper - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:31:00.001-08:00

The beauty of the day old. I forgot about the day old. Walk into a coffee shop, deli, or café and ask for the dayolds. You have less selection butyou may be surprised at the cost. $4 for an $8 sandwich. Win.

Cafes - Philadelphia, PA

2012-01-03T09:30:00.001-08:00

The bell above the door chimes again as the wood floorscreaks beneath the feet of the patrons adjusting their position yet again. It’s11am on a Thursday and the coffee shops of Philadelphia are packed. I am amazed at the amount of people inthis place accompanied by a laptops, notebooks, and research. Here we sit, the unemployed,underemployed, and aspiring writers. I never realized there were so many of us until right now. Keep on writing, job searching, andtaking in the moment. Now get outof the way, you are my competition.

Face to Face - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T09:28:00.001-08:00

Internet is the death of the face to face. I find it funny that you can’t applyfor a job person to person anymore. “Yes we have an opening see our website.” It makes it impossible to differentiate yourself amongst theother hundreds of other applicants. The lack of personal contact makes finding a job impossible and at thesame time easier, “Mocha Latte.” Sorry I have to go, I have a busy day at the café of filling inapplications and my mocha is ready. Seriously this is hard work.

Set Day and Time - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T09:27:00.001-08:00

November 2011

Today I changed my compute clock from New Zealand time backto Philadelphia. It was hard.Goodbye New Zealand for now, hopefully sometime in the future I’ll be able tofind you again.

My Heart - NJ/PA

2012-01-03T09:26:00.001-08:00

I realize now how much I appreciate the last year, no matterwhat happens. You understand and think without listening to what the worldtells you you need. You decide foryourself. I hope that I do aswell.

TV - NJ/PA

2012-01-02T08:15:00.001-08:00

In mid “Good morning” the blaring voice of the sales man piercesmy ear. I use to be a TVaddict. I hated silence. I needed sound constantly to distractor “help” me focus. I was at onepoint kicking myself for not listening to more music, I thought maybe I wasn’tusing a tool, but I found that I thought more clearly and focused without it. I began to accept silence and hate thenoise.

Why do we need running pictures and television personalitiesto keep us company? Can’t we sitand eat without needing a distraction? How about a meal with conversation? Isn’t that why you like to go out and eat with friends andfamily? Why not do that in yourown home?

Choice - NJ/PA

2012-01-02T08:10:00.000-08:00

I make choices. Imake choices everyday. Sometimesthose choices may not be fair or easy. You may not like your options, but they are choices and I no matter whathappens in anyone’s life, you always have a choice. Never pretend that you are stuck or out of options.

Defensive - NJ/PA

2012-01-02T07:55:00.000-08:00

Why am I so defensive? Because I am constantly having to reexplain who and what Iam because unfortunately unless you have stepped outside of your own world and looked back in,you will never understand.

I Miss - New Jersey

2011-12-30T08:50:00.001-08:00

I miss the earth between my fingers. I miss the feeling of the animals wool as they come upon me in the field. I missthe feeling of working for the day and feeling like what I do means something,direct to me and to those around me. I miss the mystery of what the day couldpossibly hold.

Time Travel - New Jersey

2011-12-30T08:43:00.001-08:00

The tan dirt and water soak into my shoes as I run along theroad that is mere feet from my childhood home. After only fifteen feet the houses along the road disappearand I find myself surrounded by oak trees and the twisted branches of the scrubpines that are so common in the Pine Barrens. I had forgotten how much forest, wetlands, and streamsflowed near my house and I find what started as a morning run has quicklytransported me back to childhood. Ever few yards I run rewards me with a new view, discovery, and alandscape I never knew was so close to home. The oddity of a hung turkey vulture and dumped furniture periodicallybreaks this enchantment, reminding me of the lack of respect for land held inthe area. But still the sun’s raysbreaking through the leafless branches and the cool air on my face recasts itsspell and I walk deeper into the woods. Ahead, through the gray lines of the tree trunks, a tan backdropovertakes the blue horizon line of the sky. My mind flashes the images of the white sand dunes of Mui Ne,Vietnam but I come back to reality. I think about where I am, in NJ. This can be only a few things: an old clay quarry, an army base, an old bombing site, a hidden clearing,or something awful. I need to know. I run through the trees and findmyself no longer surrounded by trees but in full range of the day light next towhat appears to be a water trap and a sandy clearing about five football fieldslong and two and half wide. It’shuge. What is this? I rememberseeing a land for sale sign. Maybeit was cleared and abandoned.

Islowly walk out into the clearing following the deer tracks imprinted in thesandy soil. It’s hunting seasonand I rejoice in the fact that I am wearing red and feel safe to begin my runagain. What is this? How is this here? The feeling of discovering a new landalong with an amazing running route is growing. The clearing drops down suddenly and hundreds of fallingtrees and a large dumpster can be seen in the bottom of the slope the clearinghas taken. The red container isrusted, and no recent truck tracks seem to be scaring the sand. Abandoned project? The kid in me grows excited and decidesto proceed around the perimeter of the site. “What is this?” echoes from my own mouth and each timeexcitement grows. I notice thebeginning of infrastructure and drainage, but it seems overgrown and stainedwith age. Was this a lake? Did they drain a lake? Could I grow on this land? Falcons and vultures fly above me asthe wind blows the crinkled leaves and trees around me filling my ears with thesounds of being alone. Am Itrespassing? I remember thefeeling as a child when I thought I found an artifact from the people of thepast, even when I tricked myself into it. The sense of time travel fills mysoul.

I finish my run around the clearing and decide to continuehome. I had to share this with "A". I had to take him hereand let him experience the surprise and wonder. The next day I would take him there, and let him seefor himself.

Asthe sun rose in the sky the next morning "A" stands in the clearingwatching the falcons fly overhead. “What is this?” We wonder together. We propose possibilities together. I can see the emotions of the daybefore reflecting in his eyes, but they disappear as the sounds of a truckbacking up crashes into the fantasy of the moment. We watch a truck approach us from the paved road that wasn’tthere the day before and find our sense of hope and imagination suffocatedbeneath the dead trees poured from the trucks bed.

Maybeat the new Super Walmart they are most likely building I can buy a fantasynovel in the hope of regaining a fraction of what I felt. At least it will only cost me $1.99 andthe wilderness.

Toms River

2011-12-20T12:49:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago I was in the car with my cousin and sister and we are trying to navigate the new jersey roads. How the hell do you turn right? Turn left from right? Joder, jug handles. The amount of strip malls is overwhelming, the 13 miles of highway we drive is nothing but stores, most of which is repeating. “That’s like the fifth Arby’s I have seen.” My sister says.

Can I call this suburbia when there are no houses and only stores? It’s not a city. There are no residences or ability to move with cars. It’s not a town. What’s the point? Is it to get us lost in the hopes that we may eventually get so hungry or run out of gas and be forces to stop for food or gas? What is this? I’ll call it storeburbia.

New Jersey storeburbia my own personal hell.

Foot Note:

In storeburbia I pass a gym called “The Judgment Free Zone”. It’s a gym contained in a glass building where every inch of the space is visible on the main highway that 95% of the area population use to get groceries and to commute back and forth to work.

I know I am judging.

My Formal Apology for Not Being Dr. Seuss

2011-12-19T10:17:00.000-08:00

The last few months of writing I know were written from a very persuasive point of view. Please understand that I was experiencing something very strong, something so unique and rewarding that I wanted to share it. I wanted to bring the knowledge I gained to those I loved so that maybe they can have some of the knowledge I received without having to well – live in a van, since living in a van isn’t for everyone. So please if you felt slighted or skipped reading something because you felt I was on “a high horse” I hope you will look at it again and take it for what it is. If it seems like an attack, that’s because it is, but it’s an attack on my former self and my own reflections and I failed to illustrate that. What can I say? I’m no Doctor Seuss.

A Year Later - Found this in my archives

2011-12-01T14:01:00.000-08:00

All Natural

I am strolling through a grocery store with my sister and asking her about the food she buys, trying here not to be preachy. She does her best to provide her children with healthy food, and buys what’s available in her area. Her children drink organic milk and she makes most of their food, but even providing food that may not be organic but just free of additives is hard to find. So I give myself a one comment limit. I figure it’s like telling a smoker that smoking is bad for you. They already know the information and after one comment, you are just annoying. Unfortunately after ten minutes in the store I use my comment limit. I knew the meat wasn’t going to be free range or organic, but that’s not what my comment was used up on. I am fixated on the 100% Natural label on the ground turkey. In my experience anything that is label natural or all natural is anything but so I digress here to inform you that natural flavorings only mean it is not made with petroleum (oil) unlike artificial flavoring, anything else is fair game. So I pick up the 100% All Natural Ground Turkey and read the ingredients: ground turkey and natural turkey flavoring. Does anyone find it wrong that companies are putting flavoring in ground meat? Really it should list ingredients: turkey. How bad can the meat be that your need to flavor it with turkey flavor? What are you doing to the damn turkeys? Okay I take it back. I am preachy here but seriously. Yes readers she will read this, but she knows what I was thinking, I just didn’t want to ruin her shopping trip and break from the kids. See sister of mine…I love you that much that I let you buy turkey flavored turkey meat and only made one comment…well about the turkey anyway. Hey I am not perfect.

100-2

Did you know that 100% Juice has 102% ingredients? How can something have 102%, well the USDA figured out how. 100% Juice of various companies contains : 100% juice, red #5, and a long list of preservatives with the pre-curser of “less than 2% of the following” and its still be labeled 100% juice. Um I think that would make it 98% juice. Just saying 100-2=98. Surely this must be a mistake and not all 100% juice brands are trying to trick the consumer. I look at every label I pass and only two juices that pass my inspection. Its okay government organization that is “looking out for our best interest” math is hard for some people.

Support - NJ/PA

2011-11-30T12:29:00.000-08:00

Since we have come home many people have offered us theirhomes and help, big and small what ever they could offer even when they didn’thave it to offer. It’s amazing howmuch love we received and I am so grateful for all the help and love. Today I have three peoples house keyson my keychain that was empty only two weeks ago. I love you all and I appreciate all the help you have alloffered big and small. It is notgoing unappreciated.

I Don't Know

2011-11-23T18:20:00.000-08:00

What is the life I want? Will I ever beable to answer that? I think I can answer it, but I don’t know if it’sachievable. I was asked today if I will live in the United States, and I saidyes. I can’t say why. I can list reasons the USA is good, but the list of whyit’s bad is growing. I don’t believe in the philosophy of “It’s just home.” Iftraveling has taught me anything, home is where you make it so I don’t pretendto return out of a desire to be home.

Music

2011-11-23T18:19:00.000-08:00

I forgot how powerful music is. It canremind you of your existence, make you feel alive, and give you inspiration. Ihave been without it for so long that I forgot what it can do to the soul. Forsome reason though on those long road trips and plane rides I found myselfignoring my Ipod. Without knowing it, I had somehow retaught myself how tolisten. While motivating, music also fills the silence, something I once couldnever handle. The vacuum of silence was painful and stressful far beyond themost chaotic and obtrusive sounds. I never expected I would gain an ability toaccept and embrace silence as something I would take away from this journey,but I am extremely grateful for the lesson.

Creeping In

2011-11-23T18:18:00.001-08:00

I am becoming the old me again

I am becoming the old me again and I don’tlike it. Stop stressing. Breathe. Enjoy the moment.

It Cost Me

2011-11-23T18:18:00.000-08:00

“I forgot what its like in the states. Ifthere is a problem, throw money at it.” "A" reminds me, of what we havebeen dreading to return to. The idea of money as a motivator, problem solver,and god.

Hippies

2011-11-23T18:17:00.000-08:00

Hippies are their own religion. I find itfunny when people call me a hippie. I am not a hippie. I know a Portland girlwho understands how I feel. When you meet true hippies and live with them, youwill understand. I don’t live in a van, well anymore. I don’t live in a tent,ok well not recently. I bath, well when I have access to water. I don’t wear thesame clothes every day. I have at least three distinct outfits. Crap. Well whenI get dreadlocks and start chanting I will know I am in trouble.

Acceptance

2011-11-23T18:16:00.000-08:00

A couple months ago the idea of going homeseemed unreal. The idea of even getting that little bit closer to home, wellscared the shit out of me. It was a step I took knowing it was right, but nothappily. I was sad to leave New Zealand, it was abrupt and unexpected but bothA and I knew it was time. We told ourselves Asia was on the horizon and a newadventure awaited, and even though I was excited to go, there was still thispart of me that was grasping to every little part of New Zealand I could. A fewweeks ago however I came to a realization that I had hoped possible but thoughtimpossible, I was ready to go. I am enjoying my time in Spain and I am learningand experiencing a way of life I would never have been able to by being aregular tourist but the thought “It will come to an end” no longer scares me. Iaccept it. This portion of my journey in some ways is the most rewardingbecause of it.

1000 Years

2011-11-23T18:15:00.000-08:00

Today I found a new respect for the peopleof the past. It took five people, a pulley, and two hours to move three of thehundreds of stones that make up the 1000 year old three story house and barn inwhich I am staying. I can’t imagine the amount of work and time this beautifulhouse took to build. I have a new respect for stone houses.

In the Past

2011-11-23T18:14:00.001-08:00

I have written many posts starting with“in the past… few months, weeks, etc.” I can’t remember a time in my life whenI could think “Oh. July 2011, why I was...” Do you remember what you were doingJanuary 2011? Do you remember how you felt in March or the big moments of June?I do? Life is worth remembering.

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

2011-11-23T18:14:00.000-08:00

The Beatles play over the vans speakers aswe drive to the local city of Monforte in Spain. John is informing us howthings are across the universe and how nothing is going to change his world.Nothings gonna change my world, he says. I have a vehement internal reaction tohis words – Are you kidding? My world has changed so much; I am actually annoyedwith Mr. Lennon at that moment. My world is nothing like what it used to be andI can’t imagine a life where nothing can have an effect on my world. To bestagnant in terms of my life would be a small death. I wouldn’t want to be in aworld where I was a wall to anything different than what I knew. It soundsterribly boring.

Ok Already - Galicia, Spain

2011-11-23T18:13:00.000-08:00

Everyone wants me to see them first. Wellguess what, I can’t. It’s impossible and no matter what I do I will hurtsomeone’s feelings. If I go to A parents house I am thinking of them first. IfI see friends first than I love them more than my family. If I see my familyfirst than I hurt friends who have been a major arm of support over the lastyear. Maybe if you throw in blue cheese and wine I’ll choose to see you firstbecause, I have no other basis or reason. I love you all, now shut up and hugme.

Mohawks for Bad Mothers - Galicia, Spain

2011-11-23T18:12:00.000-08:00

I meet a couple of great girls today. Just born the night before the little lambs are wobbling around the nursery and trying to figure out who the weird animals are, that are staring at them.

But why are you crying little one? Your sister seems happy and content. Go on, get some milk. What the hell Momma Jiffy? She only wants to eat.

Momma just rejected one of the twins. You suck. When I shear you I am giving you a mohawk so all the other sheep know you are a shitty mother. Mohawks for bad mothers, I think it would work better than therapy.

(Thanks for the Tagline A)

Keeping it Alive

2011-11-19T12:41:00.000-08:00

I have been keeping a lot of notes on how I have been feeling since my return. Notes are everywhere yet but I haven’t written much. “Keep it alive” is all I can think about, the words "A" told me as we landed in the United States. Keep the feeling and spirit of what we were doing alive, and let us not let ourselves fall into the daily grind again.

I have been home for a few days and I already I feel like I have forgotten this. I have been concentrating on getting things together again and for an attempt to find a job, but somehow between all of this, visiting people, trying to edit photographs, and finding time to write has taken more than the time I have in a day.

The Return

2011-11-19T12:36:00.000-08:00

We are back. I watch my foot carefully cross the threshold of the gangplank and I realize now we are home, now its real. I knew we were returning but until my foot crossed the small gap of air between the metal of the plane and the mismatched carpet of the gangplank it was only an idea, not something that may actually happen. Tickets can be changed, plans revised, and destinations altered. But now that I was standing on that piece of mismatched worn carpet it was official.

I grasp "A’s" hand, hold him close and begin the walk through the tunnels and hallways to the baggage claim. Once we pick up our beatup and oil stained backpacks my vision begins to tunnel and I am viewing the world in slow motion. I am so involved in trying to understand how I feel that I go numb. In less than one minute "A" and I explain our trip to the customs agent, we pass through the gates and under the banner “Welcome to the United States.”

I look at "A" and breathe deep. There in front of us lies two frosted glass doors which lead into the arrivals area, the only barrier between traveling and arriving. “I guess we go over here.” I say to "A" as I shrug my shoulder in the direction of the welcome center. We walk past a small family group who is waiting for a family member with eagerness. I look at "A", smile, and kiss him, “Welcome back.” Somehow saying home feels wrong.

We are early and I know that I have to call my parents to let them know I will be taking the JFK Airport to Newark Airport shuttle, our pick up point, an hour early. I hesitate. For some reason the idea of my mother’s and father’s voice scares me. Is it because it means I am really home and its over? Is it because that means I have to face the reality of finding a job and the “normal world” after living so happily out of it? Is it because I don’t want the first time I talk to my parents to be by phone or is it because I imagine the dramatic affair and I can’t face it? It soon dawns on me that I have to stop analyzing myself and make the phone call. I have no cell-phone, as I haven’t for many months, but I also have no American currency with no store to get change from. The only option left - call collect. After five tries I manage to get through.

“Where are you? How are you? Why are you calling collect? Why didn’t you go online and email me? Can’t you get wifi?”

I respond in short “In the U.S. I’m dirty and tired. I don’t have a phone and I have currency from Europe, Asia, and Oceania, but not America. I don’t have a smart phone and wifi isn’t free.”

“Oh. Well did you know you can’t call collect anymore. We had to give the phone company our credit card number.”

“Oh. Well this is costing you mucho dinero so meet me at 8 at Newark. “

“Ok. Love you. See you then.”

An hour later we board the shuttle and soon we are welcomed with hugs and smiles, packed up in the truck, and on our way back “home”. Over the next few days I would experience intense culture shock, anxiety attacks, and the ever-growing confusion of analyzing myself. I closed my eyes, breathed deep, remembered the taste of Pho Ba, and smiled. Now I just have to figure out how to stay calm with my eyes open.

Revenge - Galicia, Spain

2011-10-08T18:11:00.000-07:00

I think they know, the bees that is. They know I love their honey andare trying to get me before I get it. First, kamikaze bee took his chance witha full frontal attack on the way to the sweet grapes they were pollinating. Hefound his moment and struck, his life given so he could sting me on the lip andkeep me from taking their grapes. But the bees knew it wasn’t enough. They knewI still craved the sweet honey that sat on the kitchen counter. They set up aplan, a mystery I am unable to solve. In the dark of the night they snuck inand laid the trap. 9:22 am the trap was sprung. The piece of glass shard theyleft under the lid jammed into to my finger as I tried to twist the lid off thehoney jar. Ok bees. You win. No more honey for me.

Cannibals - Galicia, Spain

2011-10-08T18:09:00.001-07:00

I have done a lot on this trip. I have slaughteredanimals for food. I have killed and hunted pests for the sole purpose ofkilling them so they don’t destroy a crop. I have accidently cut a sheep whilesheering and I have shoved vinegar and garlic tonics down sheeps’ throats. Withthe exception of watching a pig suffer in bad living conditions only to becruelly thrown about a truck as it is driven to slaughter, by far the worstthing I have done is feeding the chickens chicken and eggs. Here chick chickchicks, eat your cousins and babies. Eew. Come one, we aren’t trapped in thesnowy Andes here, there is no excuse.

Missing You - Galicia, Spain

2011-10-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

I thought about you today, a lot. I knew when Ileft home that I would be away from friends and family, but I knew I would comeback. I knew I would see you again so I did not despair. In my excitement foradventure and new experiences I forgot however about the people I would meetand leave behind. “You will always be welcome anywhere we are.” We say as wehug goodbye, even though we know the cost of airfare, visa restrictions, andlife will make a time when we can meet again seem more and more like thedistant future. The family we built, the friends we made and friends wereacquainted ourselves with are not going to be home. They are there and wewon’t be. To my southern hemisphere family from all around the world l thoughtabout you all today and I hope you know that I miss you and I wish I was makinga dinner or mixing margaritas for you again. I wish I was getting ready for amovie night while trying to decide on a film we all won’t hate. I wish I wassitting by the fire on the lake in attempt to keep warm while learning moreabout you or listening to you laugh as I attempt to pronounce macaroon, yetagain. I hope you know that I was happy playing cards while tasting the fruitsof our labor and simply enjoying your company. I miss you all. You know who youare and I hope that we can see each other soon.

Assassin - Galicia, Spain

2011-10-08T18:08:00.000-07:00

The crunching between my feet is a sound only thosewho experience it can describe. I look down and see the red liquid everywhere.For a whole meter the crimson stains surround me. My hands, my hands arecovered in it. A red hand print runs across my chest, my victims remainsclenching to my chest. Another explosion, now my face is marked with themurder. I am so sorry but you had to die. I look up at the faces of thewitnesses to my killing spree, they share my smile and laugh. Now die grapesand get your juices into the barrel, all this stomping is making me thirsty.

Pantsed - Galicia, Spain

2011-10-08T18:07:00.000-07:00

Did you know if you sheer a sheep, whose fleece isabout six years old, on just her backend it looks like someone just pulled herpants down? Well now you know.

Whistle Whilst You Work - Galicia, Spain

2011-10-08T18:06:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in the woods in Spain you will find me.After the nearly abandoned village follow the path along the trickling river,past the forgotten vineyards, through the woods where the light dances off thefalling leaves of the towering oak trees and into the field with the apple treethat has the wild grape vine . There you will find me surrounded by sheep andfeeding Mable and Billy, the orphaned lambs who baa at the sight of me everyevening and rush to my side.

Paella - La Prada, Spain

2011-10-08T18:05:00.000-07:00

“Take a bottle with you” says the local fiestahost.

“Come in. Come in.” says the woman making paellaoutside her house “and bring the wine with you.”

“Have some wine, it’s from my father’s village. Ohand try this it’s a local specialty”.

Three languages combine to make a conversation

“Have you ever tried…”

“Come to our house. We want you to try…”

“Goodnight. See you next weekend!”

These are the words we heard. Like me, they canonly begin to tell of the generosity of the people of La Prada.

Otra Vez - Again La Prada, Spain

2011-10-08T18:04:00.000-07:00

I find myself writing about simple pleasures for athird time on this journey. This time, however, my words are forming around theidea of what we trade for these pleasures and not just the pleasuresthemselves. In my experience of typical America we trade time for money. Wetrade moments for objects. We trade the most precious things we have for thingsbought at Best Buy, Walmart, and the Autoplex. I know there are people in theworld who work 50-60 hours a week and have just enough for the food on thetable and a roof over their head, but many times this is not the case. In 1950,when life was settled from the war, people spent most of their income on foodand then accommodation. What was left went to the “everything else”.Today, when life is full of modern convenience and family sizes are shrinking,people spend most of their money on accommodation, then on “essentials” like TVand satellite cable, and then lastly food. What is wrong with this picture?When did a house bigger than you need become more important than having decentfood? When did what you have instead of what you do become a sign of yoursuccess? When did we trade in stimulation for complacent? Today I will work inthe farm that grows my food, take a swim as a reward for working in the sun andfeel the water slide over my skin. Today I will play a game with my husband andcook a meal with him. Today I will chat with a neighbour and walk in the fullmoon. Today I made just enough for the roof over my head and the food in mybelly. Today I find myself with time.

I don’t mean to preach, only to share what I havelearned. If you find yourself annoyed at my writing, turnoff your computer afterreading this and take the time you would spend to earn enough to pay for shirtand play a game with me. Think about your bills. Are there many? Now lookaround your house. Look in your closet. Look in your garage or attic. How muchstuff is there you never use, wear, or can generally say was worth the time yougave to pay for it? When was the last time you took a trip with your family? Ifit’s been a while: Was it because you didn’t have the money or the time? It’seasy to look at the low bank account and say you have to feed you family, butthink about where the money goes. Are you needing more money in order to payfor basic survival or to pay for the Ikea/Kohl’s/Pier One basket that wouldkeep the magazines piled on your bookshelf in just the right place?

Trade in the basket for time.

The Village - La Prada, Spain

2011-10-08T18:01:00.001-07:00

I never thought I would be living in a village. Thekind of village you see in movies and read about in books. Winding dirt roads,local women chatting in the town square, children screaming “Helados!” as theweekly ice cream truck comes into town. “Finlay! Estamos aqui?” yells a localman into our window, calling our roommates attention. The village is acommunity, not a neighborhood. Talking to your neighbor only on the rareoccasion when you awkwardly run into each other on the lawn is a far cry fromthe community here. You know your neighbor, his family, his children’s family,and the thought of him yelling up to your window does not fill you withfeelings of intrusion. An older man wandering up to the two boys playing musicin the park and breaking into song is not so odd and neither is the dance thathappens because of it. I hope these places stay alive because the thought ofthese places being overtaken by suburbia makes me want to puke, and in thisvillage the neighbors will come knocking to make sure I am ok and my Spanish iscertainly not good enough to explain that one.

The Bag - Barcelona, Spain

2011-10-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

It’s gone. Did that really just happen? It’samazing how shattering losing stuff can be. I wasn’t sure we would make therest of our journey after that, something just felt broken. I have never feltthat feeling before without the sense of relief to follow, but it wasn’t mystuff and that made it much harder for me to brush off. If it was my things Iwould have been devastated but I would have to accept it and move on. The guilthowever and the knowledge of the loss it was for "A" was close to the worstfeeling I have ever had and I don’t ever want to repeat it. After sometime theworld became right again, but I can tell you our plans to end our journey witha few days in Barcelona has certainly changed.

The Movies - Saigon, Vietnam

2011-10-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

In a movie theatre in Bangkok, Hanoi, and Saigon Ifound comfort. In the US the idea of going to the movies brought no excitement,the wonder was gone. Somehow Southeast Asia renewed this love. The movies areexciting again. Maybe it’s the salty sweet popcorn. Maybe it’s the new films onthe big screen or the surprise the previews bring. I couldn’t tell you whatbrought the movies back to life for me, but I can tell you the $3 ticket pricehelped.

$8 a Night - Saigon, Vietnam

2011-10-08T17:56:00.001-07:00

$25 a night. I don’t think so Saigon.

“I’ll go look around the corner.”

“Found one.”

Bags up and into the MiNi Hotel. Hand gestures,drawings, and google translate negotiate the price. $8 a night. “I’ll go checkthe room.” Room – windowless and the size of a closet, ventilation –check,mattress- old, tattered, cleanish but no bed bugs to be seen, lock – not reallyworking but its gives the illusion of protection, bloody hand print, mysteryjuices and gum on the wall. Perfect! Oh don’t worry people of course it hadcable television.

Oh No. - Thailand

2011-10-08T17:56:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to believe that after spending 18 months constantly with each other A and I still want to be together all the time. Seriously, I am not making this stuff up. The return however will be a readjustment. In Thailand I learned how much of an adjustment we have coming.

I was tired and just wanted to watch the terrible Asian television in our hotel room. A wanted to go out and listen to Jazz. Easy enough – one go out and one stay in, so off he went. It took all of about two minutes for me to begin to feel panic. I didn’t panic because I was alone, but that he was alone out there without me. Was he ok? How would I know? Maybe someone will hurt him. Maybe he will get lost. With everything we have to readjust to when we return home I never anticipated having to not act like a neurotic stalker. Crap.

I Love My Husband

2011-08-20T17:52:00.001-07:00

I said it over and over again. The man picked upand left his home, his family, his friends, and life to do this journey withme. Love you. Even if you always steal the covers.

Sometimes You Just Want a Hamburger - Vietnam

2011-08-20T17:52:00.000-07:00

Eat as the locals. Eat street food. Eat everything.To experience a culture you have to experience its food, and boy have we. It’sbeen amazing. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, dessert, coffee breaks: Youname a reason to eat and we have used it. But after four weeks of pho ba,curry, salad rolls, hot pots, and rice sometimes you just want a hamburger.

Enter Louisiana Brew House in Nha Trang. Ah, cheeseburger - its way overpriced by Vietnam standards but I imagine the taste ofgrassfed beef on my tongue and I am beyond excited.

"Sorry Mam. Burgerdone. No. Order something else?"

Tear.

Education - Hoi An, Vietnam

2011-08-20T17:46:00.001-07:00

I had a dinner the other night with some friendsand a Vietnamese woman who grew up during the war. To say it was enlighteningwould be a massive understatement. You learn the history in school, you hearthe tales from the blockbuster movies, and you watch the documentaries on cabletelevision. Its not the same. Not even close. As the women describes how shedidn't know Ho Chi Minh until after that war in reverence you think about there-education that must have taken place in the south after reunification. Asthe woman tells you about her friend whose first two children had no eyes, andthe third had no legs or arms from the chemicals that was put into the water Ithink about my nephews and the children who are as innocent as anyone can be.Families lost, generations effected, and we, four Americans, are sitting at adinner table in a restaurant in Viet Nam, welcomed with opened arms. I amshocked. We speak of horrors and we speak of war, but what do we know of warwhen we have been lucky enough to have citizens be spared the effects of beingbombed, poisoned, and brutalized on a daily basis. As the 10-year anniversaryof 9/11 arises I will pause to remember. I will also pause to be grateful thatthis was not the scene of daily life for months or years and take a moment tothink about the people who are or have endured such a life.

I also feel that I can say to my father’s generation,I understand now more than I ever did the trials you went through. I can onlyhope that we learn from our mistakes, especially as the current war isbeginning to mirror the 17 year long war of the past.

Traveling Slowly - Thailand and Vietnam

2011-08-20T17:46:00.000-07:00

Recently A and I have been traveling a totallydifferent way then we have in so long. While we have been preaching slow travelwe have always known that we were going to be in a place for a long time. Whilein Thailand and Vietnam though we have had a much shorter amount of time to seethe country so slow travel is hard to rationalize. It wasn't our intention butthe further along our travels we go the more we tend to stay put in any placewe find comfortable. In Thailand we saw five locations in two weeks. In Vietnamwe have seen three locations in two weeks. So many see this as missing out onall the sights but we have seen it as experiencing in a totally different way.In Hoi An we found our favorite restaurants, beach, and walks. We stayed forseven nights in a town that most people only spend two or three, and we aresorry we left it already. When we fling ourselves across the world we have theurge to see everything we can in whatever time we can make. My advice, plan onbeing able to come back and take the time to enjoy your visit while you arethere instead of running around like a maniac.

We're Not in Kansas Anymore - Tha Ton, Thailand

2011-08-20T17:17:00.000-07:00

Stepping off the bus into a dirt lot with no person, signage, or the usual "tuktuk?" driver awaiting us was a culture shock of its own. In Thailand every group bus seems to be meet by tour operators, taxis, hotel staff, or basically anyone who wants to have your money. In Thaton this is not the case, at all. The dirt lot, or bus station, makes it official that we are off the tourist trail. We are excited but soon realize that we are well, standing in a dirt lot with no idea of where to go. A looks at me - "We're not in Kansas anymore."

Lonely Planet - Hoi An, Vietnam

2011-08-15T17:41:00.000-07:00

I was never a big fan of guidebooks, the internetwas always my tool of choice. That being said I never traveled like thisbefore: in a country with a total language barrier, with no plans, and no timeto research before hand. So I bought a guidebook and began"researching" our trip. The problem with guidebooks is that peopletake it as gospel. One author’s opinion determines which restaurants, hotels,and sites become successful. A nod from a guidebook can turn a little knownhotel into a overpriced fully booked hotel in a year. I assume most people agree,that one persons review cannot determine the value of something. What if thatperson is having a bad day, if they are just an asshole, or if they simply gota bribe. We never take one person's word for it, why do we with guidebooks.

I am sitting in an empty restaurant eating prettygood food, at really good prices, served by a lovely woman across from a fullypacked restaurant that serves the same food at the same price, the difference:Lonely Planet. We notice the sign in the restaurant that states "not justLonely Planet restaurants are good." So we ask the owner how business is.She then begins tell us how business has changed since lonely planet came outand how its killed her business. The flip side of the travel book nod is that agreat place can turn a thumbs up into a reason to cut corners because thepeople will keep coming until the new edition is released.

What should we do next? Where should we go? Allthose questions people answer with a guidebook. Many times A and I decided tocheck out the LP suggestions and 75% of the time its a let down or not asdescribed. Are the wrong, inaccurate, or did their review totally affect theplace. Explore, try new things, don't just go by the guidebooks. That’s part oftraveling, trying new things. It won't always be good, but you can actually useyour instincts to decide for yourself.

Sitting on the beach I can see Lonely Planet covers on almost everychair. Is this what traveling has become? Are we really so scared to trysomething for ourselves? What's the point of traveling if you aren't willing toexplore or take a risk?

A Cup of Tea - Mae Salong, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:33:00.000-07:00

After our packed tourist trek into the jungle I hadhad enough of the "tourist" Thailand. I picked the place in theguidebook that seemed like a huge pain in the ass to get to and packed ourbags. Mae Salong. Four hours by bus to Thaton, we were the only non-locals onthe bus, and then after an overnight stay a Taxi, the for mentioned convertedpickup trucks with benches installed in the back, would take us the next 60kminto the mountains, because no buses go there. Perfect. Mae Salong is lovely,the people are lovely, they wave hello and smile, no one tries to sell youanything, and the children are still intrigued by you. After a day checking outthe local sites, which included a creepy never finished tourist tea farm andhouse (tourism never took off I guess) and a temple hike, we decided to take a20km hike which would lead us through some of the local hill tribes. Again thepeople smiled, waved, and seemed not to mind our presence. In fact in one tribewe were fully welcomed. The 4km detour to the tribe, to which I won't list infear of sending hordes of people to this still pristine place, was long, steep,and ungodly hot. When we arrived at the tribe the dogs made our presence knowquickly so we took a quick peek around without looking into peoples homes. Sowe were waved over to a seat in the center of the village. The woman smiled andnodded as we waved our hands in front of our face to "talk about theweather". Her husband soon joined us and motioned for us to follow. Whathappened next we never expected. We were invited into his house, offered tea,blessed, and after reading us to what we can only assume was a check of ourspirit he gave us each string bracelet made of cotton he had farmed and spun,like the other members of the tribe. His grandson threw pebbles and made funnyfaces at A as his grandfather prayed and wandered around the house, as imaginemy nephews do when the adults are visiting. It was real life, a real invite,and an honest gesture. This is why I wanted to travel, this is what I imaginedwhen I decided to go off the beaten track. One cup of Oolong tea became thehighlight of our trip in Thailand.

Elephant Ride - Outside Chiang Mia, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:32:00.000-07:00

"Your tour include elephant ride."

"I don't want an elephant ride."

Puzzled look.

From the beginning of this trip A and I know wedidn't want to ride an elephant. We had read about the rescues that areattempting to give the overworked, one leg short, trunkless, or just brokenelephants a chance at life. We wanted to go there, we wanted our money tosupport these programs.

Knowing full well we won't get an honest answerfrom the tour seller and that there is no tour without an elephant ride we bookthe hike. Fast forward 48 hours later and we walk into the elephant camp.Stumps with chains attached riddled the small field and 5 elephants thatattempt to shake off the heavy saddles are standing in the field. Me and A justlook at each other. "Come, come." Our rider hits the elephant untilhe gets under the platform. "Step here." He says as he pounds hisfoot on the back of the elephants neck. "Safe." We cringe. Reluctantlywe get on. Two girls giggle to my right and yell: "He's going the wrongway." The trainer then takes a hook and puts it behind the elephant’s earand pulls him the other way. Another sad look is exchanged between me and Ant."Go.Go." yells the trainer behind us as he hits his elephant whoseeye is watering profusely from the trainers own flip-flop poking him in theeye. The same elephant keeps roaring, as I can only describe it, because itwants to keep an eye on its baby. So when we get to the stall where a man isselling bananas to give to the elephants I hand him money without hesitationand feed them as fast as I can to the elephant. By the end of the ride I feeldirty and horrible that I added to this animals abuse and all he got in returnwas a bunch of bananas.

Elephants, horses, camels: all animals that areridden for our entertainment need to be treated with respect. Why is it thatpeople will spend $50 on a coat for their dog but they won't spend and extra$50 to ride an animal that is taken care of. If you don't feel okay leavingyour dog outside all day, hitting it repeatedly with a stick, and putting pinsin its collar then don't support these places. If you do I whole hearty callyou the hypocrite I wish I wasn't for haven given these people money.

Just the Two of Us - Chiang Mia, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:31:00.000-07:00

A and I have been traveling together for quite sometime. "Just the Two of Us" had definitely been our theme song. For 5days we became a party of four when we meet up with friends from home. We madegroup decisions, caught up, and for the first time in a long time I shared thejourney with someone other than the man who already knows what I am thinkingand feeling before I say it. I have been trying for days to verbalize thefeelings and I am still torn. Its totally foreign, wonderful, and interesting.Even though I knew we would eventually part ways I was unprepared for how Iwould feel. I felt utterly devastated, irrationally so. I cried, I moped, and Aunderstood. As soon as we started traveling again I was my old self and waswell, rational. After 2 days I remembered the good parts about traveling withjust A. I will always love traveling alone or with friends, but I know now I'llbe able to handle the break up, not like a 12 year old girl.

Hilltribe - Outside Chiang Mia, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:30:00.000-07:00

I had written this long description of the eventsthat unfolded on our hilltribe trek, but what’s important is not necessarilythe minuet details but the experience as a whole. The trek was an emotionalrollercoaster. Every moment of the entire trip is spent being pulled byhappiness, confusion, guilt, and anger. I can't describe the emotions I felt asthe mute tribe member retold his stories of violence, hardships and thestruggles of his life only to be followed by the gratitude and respect we feelas he gives us a gift from his small pile of belonging in the world. I can'tdescribe the emotions I felt as I walked past the garbage and obvious carelessuse of the land. I also can't describe how I felt as the rest of my groupsmiled, posed, and exuded happiness at the sight of elephants when all I sawwas chains, abuse, and sadness.

The questions of are we helping or hurting becomesever more clouded as we discover the tourism was introduced to bring income tothe tribes after the government shut down the opium trading.

I can't say whether I would recommend or utterlyreject the trek. I am happy I did it, but I don't think I would ever do itagain.

Guilt - Chiang Mia, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:29:00.001-07:00

I saw this movie once. I don't recall the name orthe exact details, maybe you will know, but it was set in post WWII SouthAfrica. A small boy tries to break down the race divide through boxing. Thestadium scenes have both black and white spectators but the white spectatorsare at tables, with chairs and cushions, and the blacks stand in the back, allwhile routing for the same fighters. As I sit in my ringside cushioned seatwatching the local Thai woman apologize for standing slightly near me to cheeron her child, who is fighting in the ring, I feel very much like I am sittingin that very same film. Parang, or foreigner in Thai, sit ringside and thelocals, packed tightly, stand where ever they can fit without blocking theforeigners view. I am starting to get a serious case of Parang guilt.

My Favorite Part - Chiang Mia, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:29:00.000-07:00

After a beautiful day on an organic farm learningto cook authentic Thai food I sit on a bench in the truck, converted to a taxi,and a young boy and his sister me if I know Justin Beiber. This of coursestarts a conversation. The family are nearing the end of their third trip toThailand. They have seen elephants, learned to cook, and generally experiencedall of the things we have put on our wish list. I ask the 14 year old girl, whoI can only imagine the places she has been, what her favorite part of her triphas been. She replies: "The Ipod Touch I got early for my birthday."Words fail.

Transformation - Chiang Mia, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:27:00.000-07:00

I can not fully explain the transformation that the cities of Thailand make at night. Quiet quaint streets become crowded hectic street markets in a matter of moments. A post dinner leisurely stroll can quickly turn into a full contact sport as you attempt to get past the shoppers, merchants, and "frog ladies" selling what ever they can to the locals and tourists. One can attempt to escape the madness by walking in the street gutters but the tuk tuks, taxis, cyclists, and motorbikes are almost as suffocating as the sidewalks.

When in Thailand if you read "Night Market" or "Famous Street Walk" be prepared to shake you hand "No", barrel through every living/moving thing you can, and smile.

Friends - Bangkok, Thailand

2011-08-15T17:17:00.000-07:00

At 1:00am N and K arrive. It's been sevenmonths since I have seen anyone from my "former life." I wondered howmuch I have truly changed. Would I be the same girl I once was when I was backin contact with people from home. Did I really change or am I the same but simplyon the road. I can't be sure yet. As I look at the squished bug on the bathroomfloor I realize that I can say that one part of me has changed. My fear of bugshas been squashed.

People

2011-08-05T00:34:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking a lot about the people I met over the past year. I have met so many people on our trip and even though I recognized it a bit when I was there I didn't realize the full impact these people had on my life. They were our trip. I have learned so much from them, about myself, and random aspects of life. I never got to fully thank them for it. So here's to you, thank you. Thank you for making our journey the meaningful experience. The list is to long to write it down person by person but you know who you are.

To the person/people who:
taught us how to live self sufficient
taught us how to make cheese
taught us how to live simply
reminded us that friendship makes a home
reminded us to dance
reminded us to brush our teeth
taught us how to make bread and preserves
taught us and showed us the circle of farm life
became our family and co workers
who shot the shit with us over a beer and chips
taught us card games to unite people of over 10 countries
showed me the world of wine, unpretentiously
who opened their home
who gave us jobs
who laughed with us
who laughed at us

We miss you already and hope to see you in the future.

NO MSG - Bangkok, Thailand

2011-07-31T17:22:00.000-07:00

NO MSG; The big red letters I saw on everyChinese takeout menu growing up. I thought it was a cheap ingredient they usedin processed food, not something that looks just like salt and is treated assuch. Bowls of MSG on tables. A spoonful added to every dish. This neurotoxinis in everything. Why would a culture with an ancient food history move tosomething so terrible. I wish I knew but the MSG is clouding my thoughtprocesses.

Joe - Bangkok, Thailand

2011-07-31T17:21:00.000-07:00

Ever guide book tells you to beware thescam or people giving advice are often just trying to scam you. So when a niceman says he is a police man and shows us a map of the city with a good walkingtour we are skeptical. He explains that today is a special Buddhist day, thatall temples are free, and the Tuk Tuk, notorious scammers, are really cheap."The ones with the Thai flag and yellow flag mean the government pays themtoday. 10Baht each would suffice.” Our friend points to the tuk tuk thathappened to be driving by and he pulls in and says simply tuk tuk. The"policeman" shows him where we should go and the deal is set. Stillskeptical we hop on . We figure it may be a scam but to be honest by this pointwe are tired and hot and willing to pay10 Baht for a breeze. It turns out Joe,our driver, is the savoir of the day. We were overheated, exhausted, and losingspirit. Joe takes us around makes us laugh and of course takes us to thetourist traps. It is a scam, but we are prepared we smile, listen and politelydecline the $200 3 days adventure the tourist women says we have to do. Next upthe tailor. We again smile nod and take a business card. Joe is straight forwardand says that if he takes us to another shop he gets a stamp, Can we go and sitand just say no so he can get some commission? He has been so honest about itwe agree. ”40 Baht please.” The exact price we had agreed. A good guy. Maybe wewere just lucky but Joe made our day. It’s hard not to be a cynical traveler inBangkok, but if you are too cynical and don't just take the risk of a ride youmay miss out.

Asia Fear - Thailand

2011-07-31T14:15:00.000-07:00

I have toadmit I was concerned about going to Asia. I remembered every movie I had everseen that described how the poor American girl who...the unprepared travelerwho... the backpacker who... As soon as we were in the city I began to realizethat these things happen everywhere and not just in Asia. There are trulywonderful things here, just like the other less "American/European"parts of the world I have visited. The longer I stayed or travel in the westerncountries the more I get comfortable with, or rather uncomfortable with theidea of being in a completely different culture. I was surprised at how much Ilet myself fear Asia. Don't fear the unknown or different. Embrace it and learnfrom it. Just remember to smile. No matter where you are smiling can dissolveany culture bundle. I've had to smile a lot.  

Zero - Thailand

2011-07-31T14:13:00.000-07:00

I have neverbeen at $0 in my adult life. I have always prided myself on my financial savvy.It’s this financial savvy that allowed me to quit my job and move to the otherside of the world without relying on my credit cared. One full year with noserious income while traveling creates the exact scenario you would expect. Iam no longer budgeting to increase my savings I am budgeting to ensure we haveenough money to make it home. I know now that I will arrive home with the smallcash we left in the states, a car, and photos. That’s more than most people inAsia will ever have, for these things I am very grateful. I accept it, embraceit, and will take it as a learning experience. I can tell you though that Iwon't be living with my parents. I will not become the format for a foxsitcom. 

Where You Lay - Melbourne, Australia

2011-07-10T17:07:00.000-07:00

  "I'mgoing home." I say the constantly now and I don't mean it as my hometownor even Philadelphia. I mean it as the pace where my bag is and where my headlays at night. I feel at home anywhere where I can get a good night’s sleep anda safe place for my bag. Its odd how much the word home changes when youtravel. You start to lose that sense of possession an to a specific address.  

Meeting - Melbourne, Australia

2011-07-10T17:05:00.000-07:00

I spent two weeks with friends I haven't seen in seven years. I got to meet my friend's wife who has felt like a friend for the first time and met my friend's girlfriend six years after I helped him find a ring for her. I felt at home. I felt welcome. I got to cook for the first time in a long time. I had a wonderful time. I wish it could have been longer.

Hugs - Melbourne, Australia

2011-07-10T16:59:00.000-07:00

Why is therea taboo of hugging between straight men in America. I notice immediate that inthe people I have encounter in Australia that good friends great each otherwith hugs. They hug friends, family, without the awkward guy look of "Ihug because you hugged. I am pretending to be uncomfortable" If guys canlearn anything from men overseas its hug more.  

Some Good Advice - Roma, Australia

2011-07-10T16:58:00.000-07:00

You’re notgetting paid for the extra time you put in at work. No one is going to give youa pat on the back and the dependency you built will only leave people hanging.People try to make themselves feel important, do you job but don't do more thanyou need to get it done.

The Scottish Influence - Cromwell, NZ

2011-07-10T16:55:00.000-07:00

Do youremember the last time you just danced? No matter how much we like to pretendwe don't care what people think, dancing proves otherwise. You step, or aredragged, onto the dance floor and immediately look at those around you. Arethey dancing reservedly? Check. Repeat. Are they simply swaying and shufflingtheir feet? Check. Mimic. You move your body to mimic the level of engagement,intensity, and of course sexiness of the people dancing around you. Do you havea drink in your hand to add to your excuse for half hearted shuffling? A reasonto raise your arm up? If you were all alone would you dance how you do at aparty? I am willing to bet no. Alone we dance with passion and withouthesitation. It's freeing. It's beautiful. Its not how we dance in socialsettings. But if its the feeling you are searching for when you look at yourfriend/crush/spouse and ask "Will you dance with me?" why do weapproach it with hesitation. A few nights ago I remembered why I love to dance.A guy named Callum undid 20 years of social conditioning and for the first timein those twenty years I danced with friends and felt truly free. I wouldn’thave drawn a suitor with my moves but hey my husband already knows I am a spaz.  

Starting Trends - Queenstown, NZ

2011-07-10T16:52:00.000-07:00

I have very little shame. Well I would like to think that I don't anyway. Most people wouldn't see that as a positive but I do. Sometimes in life you have to stop caring what people think and just do what you need to do. Quite a lot of our last few weeks in New Zealand were spent trying to sell the van and pruning vines. The combination can be toxic. It can be relaxing to have so much time to think but it wasn’t relaxing for me. I spent every moment of my work day, in between the pruning choices of course, trying to decide how to sell the van.

Let’s sell it for $3500. Let's put up posters in the backpackers, targeted internet ads, and signs in the grocery stores. No sale. Lets sell it for $3000. No sale. 10 days left. Lets sell it for $2200 and put up ads in the city one hour away. Shit, no sale. With the lack of snow the winter staff were out of work and the van was not moving. We already cut the price way below market value. We already put up tons of posters. We already put up internet ads and asked very person we saw. What's left? Well nothing left to lose, lets sit on a busy street and hold up a sign about the van sale. "Thats a funny idea. I wonder if it would work." Some would say with a chuckle obviously thinking we weren't serious. Oh yeah I was serious. Green paper and sharpie in hand I am ready. 10 am me, my sign, and my book are ready to go.

After two days it finally sold, only because of the sign. Sometimes you have to stop doing what everyone else does and do something different. We got alot of attention and some odd looks, but most people, even those not interested, said "That's a great idea. No one has ever done that before." So I apologize Queenstown if you start having backpackers littering your lake side coffee in hand and sign attached to their chest. We gotta do what we gotta do.

Meets the Locals - Chinatown, Bangkok, Thailand

2011-07-10T16:19:00.000-07:00

 In a back alley just pastthe chaos of the main market a man places mushrooms, mangos, greens, and herbsinto a basket. We haven't seen a white person in quite sometimes, so theconfused look from the man is not unexpected. "Soup" he says. I smile.I nod. I hold up on finger. He holds up three fingers indicating 30 baht or 1usd. The man proceeds to pour a cup or stock into the searing hot pan and addschili to which he is surprised when I nod yes. Fish sauce, fresh mushrooms,mango, greens, oh and of course MSG and simmers to then top with the herbs.Somewhere in Bangkok's Chinatown four white people sit on the side of the roadto enjoy the best soup they have ever had for $1. I am elated and satisfiedthat I managed to maneuver the language barrier to truly eat where only thelocals do. So ecstatic, but that may just be the MSG talking.

One Year

2011-07-10T14:08:00.000-07:00

It was a year today since you left Philly." The words are absorbed and it hits me. I can remember one year use to flew by with only the acknowledgement of the change of date on an office email. Life has definitely changed. 

Saying Goodbye to Philly

Facebook - Cromwell, NZ

2011-06-05T22:15:00.000-07:00

They have taken over. The man who I fondlyremember spending two hours trying to work the VCR, the man who I fondlyremember having his wife type his emails for him because it was to farcomplicated, the man who I fondly remember spending hours reading the manual tolearn how to turn his cell-phone on, is on facebook. Its official, the worldhas been dominated.

Love you Dad.

Psychosis, Whine, Edit - Cromwell, NZ

2011-06-05T22:11:00.000-07:00

No offense to a recent author who fooledus all into buying her book thinking it was about traveling and discoveringourselves only to find out it was two hundred something pages of whining from awomen who had an entire years worth of travel prepaid for in order to latertrick us into buying a book later turned into a movie whose producers weresmart enough to leave out most of the book and use an American sweetheart asthe lead in order to trick us into seeing the movie about the book we werepissed we read in the first place.

Oh yeah, where was I. Your book sucks.

Butterscotch - Cromwell, NZ

2011-06-05T22:10:00.000-07:00

“The next wine we are tasting is our 09’Chardonnay. Notes of butterscotch finish off this smooth textured wine.”

Oh god.

Make an em sound. “Hum.”

Don’t cringe. “Interesting.”

Wears the spittoon, to far, swallow. Gulp.

“The next wine we will be tasting is …”

Don’t pronounce yuck and shiver.

Sorry buddy. It doesn’t taste likebutterscotch it taste like pea soup. Ick.

Evading - Cromwell, NZ

2011-06-05T22:08:00.000-07:00

Some may say I am evading life. Some maythink I am losing my perspective of reality. Maybe I am or maybe they have losttheirs. You want to know the meaning of life. It’s simple. Survive and enjoy.Don’t over analyze it. Don’t work to save for doing something some day, do itnow. Stop making excuses and take a look at your life. Take that to mean whatyou want.

I think my philosophy on life will now bebased on two questions. Are you happy? Are you able to keep warm at night andeat enough? Those are the basis of life for me. If you can’t answer yes to thefirst question change something quick you probably work to damn much. If youcan’t answer yes to the second question change something quick, you probablywork to damn little.

Just Some Picks - South Island

2011-06-05T22:07:00.000-07:00

Just Something in My Eye - Queenstown, NZ

2011-06-05T22:06:00.000-07:00

One way from Christchurch to Brisbane.This is how we will end our New Zealand adventure. I am so full of emotionsthat my heart can’t seem to settle on one. On a long walk along the coast ofBluff I contemplated when should we leave. It’s hard to repeat the long trainof thoughts and emotions that flowed through me but after more than an hour "A" was able to verbalize what I couldn’t. The most significant aspect ofthe decision making process. The reason behind why I couldn’t feel okay withleaving even though I feel as though my journey in New Zealand is finished.It’s the first step toward the end of our journey. The first decision, plan, oraction in the past year and half that has not lead me far from home but towardit.

Picturing myself finished with thisjourney sends immediate panic through my body and the decision to leave NewZealand only reminds that one day deciding how my life will be day by day orweek by week, won’t be as simple as it is now. The reaction is surprising andinstantaneous as "A" clicks purchase on the airplane tickets.

But I’ll just tell the guy whose awkwardlylooking at me that I got something stuck in my eye.

When do you? - Bluff, NZ

2011-06-05T22:04:00.000-07:00

We are getting ready to say goodbye. Whendo you know when its time to go? How do you know when you have fulfilled whatyou came to do? I don’t. I struggle. It’s a constant back and forth battle ofwhen am I exploring and when am I just avoiding going back to my old life? Whendo I say goodbye to a place so unique that I can’t imagine a home without itslandscape? When do I say I have had my fill? The problem is that all of thesequestions are unanswerable.

OE - Palmerston, NZ

2011-06-05T22:03:00.000-07:00

“Are you on your OE?” Translation - Areyou on your overseas experience or gap year? In New Zealand and Australia goingabroad to live and work for a year is common. From what I could gather it’s notuncommon in Europe either. It doesn’t matter when you take it -beforeuniversity, after university, or just in the middle. Why is it that in Americathe idea of spending year outside of your own country is taboo? Why not spend ayear in France learning the language you spent two years studying in highschool? Why not spend a year working in a pub in England seeing how the peopleacross the pond live? It’s not a vacation. It’s the next level of school, animportant level. In my opinion Americans can gain the most from living outsidethe comfort of their border than any other people. We are isolated. We seeourselves above our neighbors and see the rest of the world as out of reach.Yes, the country is vast and has multiple cultures itself but there is alwaysthis comfort of closeness to home and overarching similarities that leaves agap in what can be learned.

So America, bring the OE to the states andtake it. I have learned more about myself then I ever thought imaginable in theschool of the world.

The List - Palmerston, NZ

2011-06-05T22:02:00.000-07:00

I have this list going. It’s a list of allthe things I want to bring home. Not things. Not memories. Ideas. I know, Ihave said it before. Traveling is not vacationing. We aren’t spending two weeksin a culture experiencing only bits and pieces of all the greatest things acountry or region has to offer on its travel website. We are slowly making ourway through a country. Living for days sometimes weeks with locals, living lifeas they know it and not how we would see fit. With each of these lives we livewe come across ideas, simple things that can only be seen through slowtraveling. So I will keep adding to this list, gathering ideas in the hopes ofbringing a bit of each host or new friends’ lives with us. Maybe if I gatherlong enough I can create a perfect life or atleast the perfect dishwashingsystem.

Bad Days - Dunedin, NZ

2011-06-05T22:01:00.000-07:00

Everyone has bad days. There are alwaystimes when you want that which you cannot possibly have. Traveling does notcreate a world without bad days. If you travel, you will have them as well. Forme the worst of my bad days revolve around one theme, stillness. Having a placeto stop. Being on all the time is exhausting and at some point your mind andbody need to rest. Some people think that since I am traveling I must always behaving a blast, that I have no right to complain. I am not saying that I wouldchange a thing, but I am acknowledging that if you ever decide to travel thiswill be an issue and is for those who do. On those bad days you can beliterally on the top of the world and still feel like you are incomplete, likeyou are missing something so large the moment is unfinished. It happens. Itwill continue to happen. All one can do is ride it out. Take enjoyment fromwhat you can and wait. Something will snap you back to your happy place.Something will be able to remind you that you did this for a reason.

It has only happened to me twice since Istarted this journey and both times the pull out of misery was sudden. Once itwas a fresh water swim spot that simply washed away any trace of sadness I had.This last time it was a rainbow created by the light of the moon and theever-growing fog of winter. That’s right a rainbow at night. Never thought Iwould see that and it did its job and reminded me that the benefits faroutweigh the negatives.

Don't Forget - Bannockburn, NZ

2011-06-05T21:42:00.001-07:00

I almost forgot. Live day by day, week by week. Stop stressing. What happens will happen. I need to remember that things will work out. That we shouldn’t rush, and if we don’t get one job we will get another. I forgot. Time to remember.

Grape Juice - Bannockburn, NZ

2011-04-16T16:29:00.000-07:00

Grape juice. Grapes. Grape fragments.Stems. Leaves. All over me, in my shoes, on my shirt, in my sleeves, in myeyes. Grapes. It’s a messy job.

Inspiration - Bannockburn, NZ

2011-04-16T16:26:00.000-07:00

Inspiration comes from odd places. Andi, afellow grape picker and former architect from Germany, was telling me about agreat photographer in Germany and my first thought was, “Shit I am aphotographer I should be making work”. I spent the next hour finalizing an ideaand getting it organized. I spent weeks working out ideas in the past, evenmonths, but in a short conversation Andi sparked a creative flow that has longbeen dormant. I am pretty sure he has no idea the impact he had, but thissimple conversation renewed the artist in me. Thankyou Andi.

Work - Bannockburn, NZ

2011-04-16T16:25:00.000-07:00

What do you want to do when you get back?The question everyone asks here everyday. Its blunt and direct but I want a jobthat when I get up in the morning I don’t have the urge to kill myself.

Remembering - Bannockburn, NZ

2011-04-16T16:19:00.000-07:00

Me standing in the studio.

Dancing with passion, with intensity.

Me happy.

Me getting my body into exceptionalfitness.

Me 4 years ago.

Me remembering a time when life seemed amillion miles from here.

Canoe trip the day before our senior year begins. 1999

I have a hard time sometimes removingmyself from the fondness of Drexel. For most college grads they remembercollege as this specific time in their life – maybe two, four, or even sixyears. For me although my undergraduate degree was a traditional four-yearevent – I spent another six years of my life there. Yes we spend eighteen yearsat home – but most of that we can’t even remember and half of what we canremember is so far removed from our current selves it doesn’t hold the samenostalgia. This time of our lives, 18-30, is such a vivid and real memory formost. There are so many changes, so much is forming and so much of who we areis solidifying. Drexel was for me a decade of development that I can clearlyrecall with the close of my eyes. The smell of the canned olives and ham Icooked during my first cooking attempts. The feeling of dancing passionatelyand without any restraint when I was alone in the studio. The feeling ofbetrayal and the sense of an event unfolding. A decade is a long time. Thedecade during someone’s twenties is life changing. I am not the person I was attwenty. Parts of the twenty year old me live on while others I tossed to theside and only recalled as I look back at the past. Others have been tucked away,like the recycling we keep meaning to take out, but its still sitting there.Its still there and even though you pretend its not, that doesn’t mean it isn’tstill there waiting for you to finally realize it. Do we fear age because wemay forget these moments or do we fear it because we fear we won’t make morememories just like it?