The In-Between; A Journey Home

Traveling to a new place, especially when one is used to traveling, creates a diverse array of emotions. There is sadness when taking that initial step towards leaving - but not remorse or regret. There is excitement for going to a new place - perhaps not new to knowledge but new to routine - and the anticipation of change is usually a good one. However, there is also nerves when entering into something completely new. There are plenty of soon to be answered questions, but that leaves this period of simultaneously unknowing and seeking. I am a child on her last day of high school - prepped for freedom, yet attached to tradition.

I am in the in-between.

The takeoff is the easiest moment. I have time to prep, organize, rest, meditate, or be mindless. I can test the waters of my new place by taking in the surroundings of who else is on their way there. What languages do they speak? How does it sound to me? I can sleep and forget about leaving, coming or going.

I am in mourning, and I am excitedly en route. The time for mourning is brief and sharp, a pang in the heart during the ascent.  What sadness it is to go. What torture endings are, on loop, unclear where it begins again or truly completes its cycle. Every time it is as if I am saying goodbye for infinity. This debt of emotion will keep up until a landing is nearly insight, until the chime of arrival makes itself known. Until a fellow passenger wants to distractedly become my friend. Until then I'm in-between. In between melancholia and thrilled anticipation.

I never stop living as if it is an adventure. This is the enthusiasm of a traveler. As much as goodbyes can make me cry, or day dream about all that was, they never hinder my spirit for adventure.

No single moment deters us from the path we travel down. No single moment can take away the thrilling nature of living. We don't choose the road less traveled by, we choose the wild, where there is no road. We trudge through crunching leaves, up steep rock faces, around glaciers, and through the jungle - each step making our own fortune. An obstacle is not an obstacle if one enjoys climbing it. Sadness is not melancholia if one can have gratitude for the lighter moments. 

The beauty of goodbyes, the in-between, and new beginnings, is in all of the emotion and reflection. I am excited, enthusiastic, thrilled, solemn, thoughtful, heartbroken, renewed, observant, enlightened, and in love with the journey. 

Here I am completing my first long-term travel abroad. I've been to Europe, all over Asia, Australia, and New Zealand. I did it in 16 months. I made hundreds of friends, stayed in hundreds of places, and I did most of it on my own. 

And still the in-between journey is a strange grieving thrilling sensation. It often occurs to me as the airplane taxis the runway, or as I am waiting for the line to subside during the plane boarding. I am leaving behind those moments in that land and time. The moments and emotions become my memory, they become my story, and for the time being, it belongs to only me. It's thrilling to have my precious little secret. It's daunting to want tirelessly to stand on a rooftop and shout to all the world what all these incredible moments have been like for me - to share my story in hopes of enlightening, empathizing, connecting my travel world with all of my other worlds.

Like a first love, I want to announce this infinite rollercoaster romance with the universe, and in that desire to share I fill myself with gratitude for the moments. With that gratitude, the in-between quickly becomes a soothing place, a warm hug that wraps up in me and holds tightly until love is pouring out of my every cell. Its a laugh at the struggles, a kiss to the joys, a smile at the nonsense, and a wink to the woes. Its loving the adventure, and the journey, where ever it may go. The in-between becomes my meditation, my path to the next adventure, my guide to the next enlightening struggle, and my ticket through the portal of time within my internal world. I am so grateful for each adventure, and for every in-between becoming such a gift to the spirit. Its precisely why I planned to take 6 weeks to travel home, and see friends I've met while traveling, rather than return in one fell swoop.

So here's to my heartwrenching mournful 'goodbye', my enthusiastically grateful 'so long', and my anxiously excited 'hello.'

Here's to the next adventure, and making it through the in-between.

I'm coming home.

"I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel." - Rosalia de Castro

The Answer, my Friend, is Blowing in the Wind

The world is always looking out for us. I find it hard to believe in circumstance when I have narrowly missed life-threatening natural disasters at least four times.

Had I not traveled to Nepal in November and December 2014, perhaps I would have been there in April 2015 when three record-setting earthquakes shattered the country’s resources and killed over 4,000 people. Had I chosen to climb Mount Kinabalu, as planned, rather than travel to Brunei and fly to the Philippines, then perhaps there would have been 17, instead of 16, trekkers killed on the top of the summit during the earthquake that struck at the beginning of June. If I hadn’t been robbed in the Philippines, maybe I would have continued to camp on beaches in the Philippines and Indonesia, and maybe something much more traumatizing would have happened to me. After that experience, and the beginning of the rainy season, I booked my flight out of the Philippines early, and maybe, just maybe that would have put me on the wrong boat that day in June when cyclones hit and 32 people drowned. After all, I was on the same sea, traveling not too far away. If I stayed in Indonesia I would be coping through the massive forest fires that are currently ravishing the nation - particularly in Kalamatan – where seasonal field burning has become the latest nightmare.

I seem to float along like a feather carried by the wind. Although I don’t know where I am going, the wind does. It takes me high above all of the coral reefs, over the volcanoes, through the fiords, and away I go. Carelessly free and floating on the back of this invisible force that seems to hold all harm at bay.

The Traveling Social Worker

I'm sure that travelers can recognize the sentiment, that maybe after some time, it feels as though you put your life on hold at home. It's not a bad feeling, or a good feeling, simply a parallel feeling that there are two lives being lived, and one can easily be paused while the other continues. You have a travel life and a home life. The world carries on. Your family and friends' lives proceed. Maybe you wonder if you being there ever made a difference. Certainly it did, however the thought can creep up on you. Maybe there is nothing you miss, and this disconnect concerns you, or, better yet, thrills you. Maybe you become jaded from a life away from home, constantly having to reaquaint yourself with surroundings - always introducing yourself, having the same conversation over and over. Maybe all of this causes you to miss home, or maybe the fact that you don't miss home at all makes it feel as though it isn't your home anymore. Time no longer exists, only the day to day - money, and basic necessities. You had an education you might not be using, things you did and were passionate about before that don't matter anymore or that you don't have access to. With new knowledge comes new passions, and new passions can make a whole new persona.

When I originally left on this trip more than ten months ago, I justified my abandon by saying that traveling will enhance my career as a social worker. It will give me insight to all kinds of ways of life - cultures, ethnicities, and beliefs that exist around the world. The mere ability to say a couple of words in someone else's language can strongly enhance rapport when empathizing with clients of all diversities. I said to myself, I will volunteer in other countries to help me get by, and that will support the building of my resume during my extended absence.

After receiving my masters degree in social work, I had a few months to put my affairs in order before deciding to leave for a prolonged period of travel. A period that, in time, became more and more drawn-out. So far I am four months beyond my personally advertised return date. By the time I actually do return, my originally planned trip will have more than doubled in length. Spontaneity is a beautiful gift, considering that concrete travel plans are as real as a "worse case scenario." Everyone can imagine how it will go, but no one sees it come to pass the way they envisioned. Definitive travel plans on extended journies never follow through, and only seem to prevent incredible opportunity. I learned this a long time ago, and for the most part, threw limits, expectations, and deadlines out the window.

As freeing as it has been, lately I have felt as though I put my entire career on hold to travel the world. I can't help but recognize that, at times, my experiences are more for personal gain than they are for educational knowledge that will 'enhance my career.' Since most service opportunities on this side of the world require the volunteer to pay for participation, the idea of building my resume abroad became distant and virtually unrealistic. Sixteen months of "unemployed traveler" may not be the best way to sell myself to the next employer. Certainly not with the argument that such a long absence may have caused me to become out of practice.

All of these thoughts about my absence, and abandon, had been rushing in as a full year of travel rapidly approaches me.

The other day, a symbolic gift was sent my way that would later bring me towards feelings of fulfillment and purpose. I received in an email a post-test survey concerning my graduate degree specialization in integrated primary and behavioral healthcare. As I completed the questionnaire I found that most of the examining questions went as follows: On a level of 1 to 5, rate how confident you are in working with clients of different cultural backgrounds (1 being not confident, and 5 being extremely confident). Topics included; communication using nonverbal behaviors, racial identity, language barriers, educational background and interests, gender role and responsibility, role of elders and children, recognizing your own personal values and beliefs and preventing or resolving their intrusion into practice, comfort when entering a culturally different world, similarities and differences between cultural groups, clients refusal of treatment based on beliefs, need for cultural care preservation/maintenance, cultural sensitivity, dealing with racism and prejudice of clients while maintaining a non-bias practice, religious conflicts, values, etc. etc. etc.

About halfway through I began to laugh out loud at my previous concerns over 'enhancing my career.'

Maybe I am no longer in a therapeutic group setting - teaching mentally ill women how to appropriately cope with feelings of anger while living in a homeless shelter. Maybe I am not doing one-on-one private in-home therapy with hospice clients. Maybe I am no longer doing in-home structural family therapy with troubled youth and their parents in the struggling heart of Brooklyn. What I am doing is communicating on a daily basis with people from around the world, learning about religious and cultural practices, coping with my own discomfort in rural and suburban underdeveloped settings to the point where there is no discomfort, understanding the basis of my values and how they differ from the people around me, learning about wars and racism between ethnicities I didn't even know existed, using different languages, seeing firsthand the daily practices of different cultures, understanding traditions and ways of life, experiencing fundamentally complex and corrupt governmental effects on citizens, living in other peoples' homes, practicing different religions, teaching about love through my own openness, etc. etc. etc.

After taking the post-test, I realized, I haven't left a life on pause somewhere. There is no "home" to go back to or life I left behind. There is no extended "absence." I have never been more present. I am home, everywhere I go. I feel it is a gift to be able to say that even after traveling to 43 different countries in my life, and counting. I can find comfort in anything or anyone, in myself, and at any location. Life before travel, is simply that. It's not continuing on its own - there is still a life being lived. This concept of living a paradoxical double life doesn't exist. People at home will go about their lives, as travelers go about theirs. We will grow in our way, and they will grow in theirs. At the end of the day, I have captured more in a moment than I could possibly have dreamed of in a lifetime. No matter which way we spin it, it is for personal gain - the kind of gain that will make us better practitioners, friends, lovers, and empathizers. The kind of personal gain that benefits everyone wey meet. Every backpacker must be a social worker to an extent. Every traveler must have this knowledge that enhances any career or relationship they have. It requires an openness, a tolerance, a patience, a self-awareness, and an overall understanding of one's personal role in humanity.

I used to think that when I decide to call it quits with long-term travel, or put it on hold until further notice, that is when I will settle down and begin my professional career.

The truth is, I am settled, and I am practicing social work every day. The important thing for all travelers to remember, is what this survey reminded me. Although we may not be working or volunteering, or even interacting with locals every day - we are spreading wealth and knowledge around the world. In return for satisfying the basic human need to participate in humanity, travelers gain an immeasurable growth and goodness that can only effect positive change within and without themselves now and forever. I dare others to be their own genies, grant their own wishes. As travelers do when they choose to travel, I encourage you to also follow your dreams. It only makes us better at being.

A Cultural Lesson on Borneo

There are four main sections of Borneo. There is Brunei, which is its own well-oiled machine of a country, and is so small that it takes only an hour and a half to drive from one end to the other. There is Kalamatan, which is the southern Indonesian side of the island of Borneo, far less touristic and therefore less tourist accommodating, and then there is Malaysia which is split into the two states of Sabah in the northeast, and Sarawak, in the northwest. All of Borneo is a rainforest lovers dream. It has it all. On the north and eastern coasts of Sabah are majestic paradise beaches - perfect for diving to see authentic underwater wildlife. All over central Sabah, and all of Sarawak are the most lush green rain forests that I have ever seen. There were waves of green stretching out as far as the eyes can see, home to rare wildlife, some of which can only be found on the island. An untouched and unexplored land - a well respected and preserved land. Here is one of the only countries I have been to in Southeast Asia that fights - hard - to keep their jungle sacred.

Religion-wise all Malaysians, are pretty much Muslim, and many of the Chinese-Malay are Buddhist. However, much like when Singapore broke off from Malaysia to be its own country, Sabah, and Sarawak have cultures, languages, and traditions of their own. They even require their own immigration stamp when entering or existing the states. The Sabahans and Sarawakians are very proudly separated, ethnically, and culturally from their mother in West-Malaysia. Although development is slightly better in most parts of West Malaysia, all of the money that fuels the Kuala Lumpur Shopping Mall fire comes from the tourism, jungle, and oil resources in Borneo. Sabah, and Sarawak could easily be independent of Malaysia, just as Singapore now is, however that would leave their Malay brothers fending for resources to export. There are ongoing talks of this desire for independence and how to achieve. Usually it is front page news on the Borneo Post newspaper. 

The proud Sabahans have 32 tribal communities in the region. There are at least six main languages that are widely understood, Bahasa - which is how locals refer to the Malay language in both Indonesia and Malaysia - also Mandarin, Cantonese, Hakka, Kadazan-Dusun, English, and many other languages. The average person speaks three languages. In Kota Kinabalu, where I spent most of my time in Sabah, the most common tribal language was Kadazan. It was completely different from Bahasa, and every time I got a ride from locals I had a lovely Bahasa versus Kadazan language lesson. Religion-wise, Sabah is still dominantly Muslim, however they are far more laid back in their traditions than in west Malaysia. Prime example, at the harvest festival I attended, the main event was drinking. Malaysia doesn't even have a national beer because of its religious status. Sabahans had to resort to local rice wine and imported Tiger beer.

Sarawak has a whole life of its own as well. The people are Muslim, Christian, Taoist, Buddhist, Confucius, and there is an array of tribal groups collectively known as the Orang Ulu, essentially meaning "locals." The Iban culture makes up the largest ethnic group in Sarawak. Ibans speak their own language, and are mostly Christian people. In fact, in my opinion, Sarawakians tend to speak the best English because there is so much mixing of tribes and languages that it's not uncommon for the language spoken at home to be English. Common ground. I had the pleasure of learning about the combination of ethnicity and religion that created the Iban festivals, like the harvest festival (Gawai Dayak), festival of the dead (Gawai Antu), and hornbill festival (Gawai Kenyalong). I had the pleasure of celebrating Gawai Dayak during my rural experience in the rainforest of Mulu. All of the country of Malaysia celebrates the harvest festival - how it is celebrated can differ dramatically between ethnicities and religions. 

Of Borneo, I traveled around Sabah, staying at locals houses, hitchhiking my way from day to day, visiting orang utans and probiscis monkeys in the jungle, island hopping one day, whitewater rafting the next. The nature and wildlife adventures in Borneo are broad and endless.

White Water Rafting down Level IV rapids on Padas River in Sabah (I'm the one in the front with my eyes closed)

My little oasis for a day on Palua Manukan

Visiting the Orang Utans in Sepilok, Sabah

Seeing these sexy Probiscis monkeys in Lebok, Sabah

The Gawai Dayak/Harvest Festival in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah

The hospitality of Malaysia does not stop with Sabahans and the Sarawakians. If anything, they kick it up a notch. I stayed at a guy named Fez's house for a whole week in Kota Kinabalu (KK), in between traveling to Sandakan to see the wildlife there, and returning back. I hitchhiked daily from his house to the city center, even to the airport the few times that I was taking domestic flights. The conversation during my hitchhikes was never short on comparing Bahasa to Kadazan and discussing local practices.

I was privileged for Fez to take me to the harvest festival on my last night in KK. He wanted to show me how the Sabahans celebrate. The festival was a carnival with tents of people singing karaoke and enjoying laughter and long conversations. I was invited to join a local family where they fed me one beer after another, and hooted and hollered with me when I sang a karaoke version of Adele while toasting loudly in Kadazan.

The celebration in Sarawak was very different than in Sabah. Arriving in Mulu, it appeared as though the plane might have landed on the jungle itself, with no cleared patch of land in site. It was so small, that while I was waiting for my flight on the day that I was leaving, my friends invited me into their home across the street where we watched Finding Nemo until we heard the airplane land. Once the airplane landed I casually strolled through security and hopped right on. 

The look of the land upon decent into Mulu, Sarawak

The smallest airport known to man, helped me to arrive at the smallest "tourist" village I have ever seen. No wifi. No electricity. No running water. Just pure jungle and cave adventures for the next four days. The harvest festival here was small, maybe 20 people and no one dancing or singing karaoke until my friend, A, and I worked to get the party started. We drank local rice wine and ate wild boar. It was the first time I had ever seen a kind of pig served in a Muslim country, simply emphasizing that I am now in the Christian part. Most of my meals consisted of sautéed wild fern, or crushed tapioca leaves. By the end of my stay I had become friends with every local and every tourist in town. On the last day, when the festival took place, my tourist friends and I shared a bottle of rice wine, given to us by the National Park manager, with a group of local guys consisting of the firefighter, the airport security, the church musician, and the freelance tour guide. My friend the airport security guy, was named Aidel, so of course I sang Adele for him during Karaoke, followed by lots of toasting and hollering in Iban - "oooo haaaaa!"

The typical sunset from the rain forest in Mulu, Sarawak.

Incredible wildlife and insects seen during a night walk in Mulu, Sarawak.

The mountain scenery of Mulu, Sarawak

Swimming in a lagoon in the rainforest of Mulu, Sarawak

Being completely disconnected in the rainforest was possibly one of the highlights of my experience in the last several months, and I have had an amazing and wild ride. Between trekking through jungle, flicking off leeches, swimming in waterfalls and lagoons in the middle of the rainforest, hand climbing through caves with my headlamp guiding my way, and enjoying the peaceful sound of nature on my solo-walks through the trees. I hadn't felt so at peace in such a long time.

Adventure Caving in Clearwater Cave in Gunung Mulu National Park in Sarawak. Notice the enormity of the cave's mouth and how small the bridges are from this distance.

Now I am making a stop in one more Sarawakian town, called Miri, before driving to Brunei and inevitably beginning the next month of adventures in the Philippines!

A Hitchhikers Guide to Malaysia

Diving right into Malaysia from Thailand, and intending to spend a short amount of time, meant being prepared for a few things. I heard from many travelers in passing, that costs in Malaysia were higher than in Thailand, and Thailand was one of the most expensive Southeast Asian countries I had been in. Granted, I was there the longest - with 6 weeks under my belt, and some luxurious indulgences like elephant sanctuaries, private rooms, and motor scooter rentals - nevertheless, Malaysia was coming, and I had to prepare.
Before arriving in Malaysia, I imagined villages, much like rural Thailand, and I imagined major cities like Bangkok, Ho Chi Minh, or Beijing. I needed to book flights from Singapore to Borneo and around Borneo, so once that booking was finished my time in west Malaysia was limited. I held off on the flight booking for as long as my budget could stand it. If one thing is for certain in life and travel, it is that plans are more like rough guidelines, often more useful as toilet paper than anything else. Holding off on purchasing my flight gave me the freedom to flush my previous plans, 10 days in west-Malaysia (Penninsular) down the drain.

The tentative plan was only there for budget reasons. More time more money. Mo money mo problems.
I took my budget struggle to the streets. I searched on CouchSurfing.org, messaging half a dozen people on Penang Island, so that I would have a place to start after driving south from Thailand to Malaysia. Within a week I received a response from a lovely Iranian guy, Milad, getting his doctoral degree at the university on the island. Four nights on Penang Island with good Middle Eastern company, boom, check.

Penang Island had NO island feel to it. I arrived coming down off of a high from camping and having beaches all to myself in Ko PhiPhi, Ko Lanta, and Ko Tao, Thailand - I was not really in the mood to explore a city on public transportation. Luckily my gracious host offered me everything, from transportation to almost anywhere, to a big bed with air con and wifi. This was the time I would take to research the future of my trip. For all intensive purposes, from here on out I am going in blind - the best way to go if you want all of your senses taken to the next level.

Judging by the things that interested me in Penang, leaving West Malaysia within 10 days was looking like it would be no problem. Everything was going as planned.

After a few restful days I found another CouchSurfing opportunity in Kuala Lumpur. Elma was the next sweet soul to take me in. While I was on the bus to arrive at Elma's house, I received an email from her explaining that she is not actually in Kuala Lumpur. I should arrive in KL, get a train to an outer suburb called Rawang, then find a local bus, or hitchhike if I arrive after 7:30pm, to a place called Bandar Tasik Puteri. My lazy side contemplated passing-up the opportunity. I would have to hitchhike since the journey wouldn't bring me into Rawang until 9pm. Honestly, I couldn't even say the town properly until I started asking around about how to get there. It was also only the third or fourth time I've hitchhiked in the last ten months of travel, and I was nervous. Of course I took the journey out to Rawang, asked around, hitchhiked. No one picked me up. It started to rain. I took a taxi. First Malaysian hitchhiking experience was an epic fail.

Elma was the sweetest woman, and reminded me a lot of my mother. She was righteous, funny, and young in spirit. We were instant-friends. She always had something to feed me, and left me with a lovely Russian guy to have the entire house to ourselves while she went on vacation. Unfortunately she was a busy woman, so I had to start hitchhiking to do pretty much anything in the area. It was the perfect push to get me out of my bus-taking, taxi-riding shell and breakout into the hitchhiking world.

On her way out of town Elma brought me to a nice little corner next to the highway where I could easily get a ride for my first day of adventures via hitchhiking. Within five minutes a Hokkien Chinese-Malay guy picked me up and brought me to the national park.  At the park I climbed waterfalls, got my feet wet, and then took my time returning to the highway to thumb another ride. Within ten minutes an Indian-Malay truck driver pulled over and picked me up. Furthermore he gave me his phone number and said that if I need any rides along that highway I could call him because it is his working route. He seemed too eager to be my chauffeur and it gave me a funny feeling. Eventually he wanted to detour off of the highway to pick something up, I didn't understand what he was saying and was not comfortable detouring from the route with a guide who gave me a 'funny feeling.' I got out on the side of the road and found another ride within the snap of a finger. This time a nice Hakka Chinese guy brought me all the way to Batu Caves outside of Kuala Lumpur, I did my tour, and then found another ride partway back. Somehow, since the driver was not going all the way to my destination, I ended up under a highway bridge with a bunch of motorcyclists during a massive rain storm. They all were fairly entertained watching me try to hail down a car for 30 minutes. The rain storm seemed to make people less generous. Eventually we waved down a local bus and it took me back to Rawang for less than a dollar.

That was my first day of commuting completely via hitchhiking.

Now 100% confident in the generosity and safety of the hitchhikers way, when it came time to leave Elma's house, my plan was to hitchhike all the way two hours north, to a town called Ipoh, where I would re-join with my friend Luca who I traveled with in south Thailand. Foolishly I stood, facing the wrong direction, on a road that was not the main highway. I got a lot of waves and thumbs up. I'm sure I made friends with passerby's just by standing there smiling, and waving at everyone.
After some time of waving to people who smiled, gave me thumbs up, and still did not pull over to help a sister out - I finally met my angel of the day. The man who picked me up was named Nick - nickname Mun. Straightaway Nick told me that he was not going all the way to my destination, he was en route to his parents house an hour north where he is caretaker for his mother and father. He told me that he would go most of the way and then leave me at a local bus station. It took so long to get a ride on the road initially, that it was already 3pm when he stopped for me, and I was accepting of any generous offer. It started raining once I got into the car. After chatting along the way, I felt really good about meeting Nick. He offered to stop to get me lunch, and gave me all kinds of advice about hitchhiking and traveling in Malaysia. Since my final destination after Ipoh would be the tea plantations in the mountains of Cameron Highlands, Nick told me that there were also plenty of mountain adventures in the area we were in. He told me that, if I wanted, he could take me around the mountains, and then I could sleep at his parents house for the night. Considering I had such good feelings about this generous guy, I said yes. My mind was completely at ease when I arrived at his parents house and met his hardcore Chinese mom who invited me to eat, do laundry, and stay in a private air-con room. Heaven has a name, its a tiny Hokkien Chinese village called Rasa, Malaysia.
That night Nick took me out for dinner, insisting on paying for everything, and he even brought fireworks for us to set off in the street. In this small town, everyone was fairly informed about everyone, so much so that when Nick walked in anywhere, it was as if the mayor had arrived. He told me that showing up with a young white foreigner would certainly hit the rumor circuit by morning. I told him to fuel the fire. We sat next to each other, talked all night, snuck out the back of the restaurant for a cigarette instead of smoking where we were sitting, and I imagine rumors got really wild when the same people saw us go out to breakfast the next morning. Staying with Nick was a lot like staying with my dad's best friend. After breakfast he drove me one hour out of his way to my destination and left me at a local bus stop to get me where I'm going. After a night of accommodation, treating me to anything I wanted, fireworks, and laughter, I was sad to say goodbye to him. Uncle Mun!

By now it has been one week in Malaysia, and it's safe to say that I was absolutely in love with the country. Ten days wouldn't cut it, so lets throw in the tea plantations, highlands, jungle, and rainforest for good measure. These are all places I didn't know existed before stumbling across an online magazine article during my downtime in Penang. The article advertised the Top 20 Must-See things in Malaysia, now my aim was to do as much of them as I could manage.

I arrived in Cameron Highlands, not having paid for a single night, or tourist bus for the previous week in Malaysia. I was completely in love with what Malaysia had to offer in spirit. When I met up with my friend Luca at Cameron Highlands, I found him in opposite spirits. He wasn't enjoying the experiences he had in Malaysia up to that point. I told him one day with me and he will love it.

On that one day we took a two hour trek into the jungle. The climb was hand and feet through mud, pulling ourselves up over the vines that nature presented as steps to the top. Once we arrived, we had a little picnic. On the sunmit there was a road to return down the mountain, and a guy was offering some Netherlander girls a ride which they declined. So I chimed in 'We'll take a ride!' The guy, Azmi, and one of his wives, drove us down the mountain to a place called the Mossy forest. He pulled over, told us to go tour the area and that he would wait for us. Really? That's extremely kind, don't mind if I do. At this point, I am grateful for the generosity, but not surprised at all. Luca was still taking it all in. "Wow, he's so nice." Yeah bro, this is Malaysia.

On our walk we bumped into a German guy named Cornelius. It appeared as though Luca and Cornelius had met before, so we walked out of the forest together, and Azmi told Cornelius to get into the car also. There we were, feeling blessed by the generosity of this traditional Muslim-Malay couple, two Germans and an American covered in mud, sitting snug in the backseat. I knew what was in store for this ride. It was fun for me to sit back and watch Luca and Cornelius in shock and awe at the Malay generosity they were receiving. I grew to expect it, love it, make friends with it, so when the rest of the day became the Azmi-guided tour, I was extremely grateful and unabashed. Azmi not only took us on a tour of the tea plantation, but he also took us to the enormous and beautiful Lavender gardens where he paid for our entrance. The Germans and I all chipped in to buy his wife a bouquet of fresh flowers as a "thank you." Following the gardens, he brought us to the Kings' vacation home where it turns out he is the landscape artist. We walked around this VIP spot admiring his work, and the gorgeous view. All of the states of Malaysia have a king, and the king is re-elected every 5 years. Azmi made sure we knew that no tourists go there. No one goes there but the politicians and kings. Before parting ways, he invited the three of us to dinner, where he insisted on paying for everything, and then returned us to our hostel for the night. We walked away, all jaw-dropped at the kindness we were shown. I think by the end of the day it was safe to say that one day with me changed Luca's opinion of Malaysia. Really, one day of hitchhiking and meeting Azmi.

From Cameron Highlands, Luca joined me for a detour to Teman Negara to trek through the world's oldest rainforest and walk along the world's longest rope bridge. Teman Negara included some more hitchhiking and friend-making, before I said my sad goodbye to Luca and headed to Kuala Lumpur. I reveled at the idea of meeting people who were shocked at the idea of hitchhiking, and i would try to convince them to do it. It felt as though I would be introducing them into a whole new world of experiences.

When I arrived in Kuala Lumpur I emailed Azmi and Nick to thank them for the amazing memories that they made with me. Azmi responded telling me how disappointed he was the he couldn't be in Kuala Lumpur to show me around. He really was disappointed, because as an alternative he gave his daughter, Mya, my phone number, and within minutes she was calling me to make plans for the tour of KL she would take me on. Just as I received the response from Azmi with the 'programme,' I bumped into Cornelius. He joined me on our adventure the next day with Mya, her mother and her beautiful baby boy. We went to a fantastic pink mosque, a children's theme park called I-City, delicious Arabic food in between, and also the evening light show at the famous Petronas (Twin) Towers in KL. Mya was so generous, patient, and sweet, that she wanted to take us the next day on a day trip to Malacca town, which is a beach city two hours west of KL. Curse the notion of making plans! I had already booked a flight from Singapore to Borneo, so I had to move on and pass up another fantastic day with this incredible family.


Concerning safety, traveling alone as a woman, and not knowing enough about my surroundings, I was always hesitant to do any kind of hitchhiking while on my own. I'm not sure if I would continue this in every country I go to, however, Malaysia has certainly opened my heart and my eyes to the generosity, opportunity, and love that the people here have to offer. I am so grateful for hitchhiking, and I wanted to share that with everyone.

Here are 8 reasons hitchhiking and CouchSurfing in Malaysia was one of the highlights of my trip

1. Hitchhike. Do it. Malay people are generous, friendly, and do not expect anything in return except to maybe be your facebook friend, get your phone number, or take a selfie with you and their children.

2. Hitchhiking and CouchSurfing awards positive experiences that you can't plan, pay for, or expect.

3. It's free.

4. You are officially off the beaten path. Locals know stuff that you can't learn without them. They take you places, teach you things. Just by talking to them and asking them questions, you will learn so much about the area, culture, language, and religion. They picked you up or took you in because they expected to talk with you after all. It builds your confidence. Knowing you is just as valuable to locals as knowing them might be for you. That is why they want to meet you to begin with. Your host is intrigued by your skin, your tradition, they all want to know where you come from, what religion you are. They get the experience of meeting a foreigner, and you get the experience of meeting a local, along with the added bonus of a free ride. Everyone leaves happy.

5. It's the scenic route. You're not stuck on a bus, train, or subway - you're not in a noisy hostel having to pay for anything and everything straight down to the drinking water. You have your hands out the window, or the air-conditioning in your face, you have a couch or a bed in a private place. Take it all in and fill yourself with gratitude.

6. You are completely on someone else's plan, and you must go with the flow. This can be difficult for some people, and for others it's not a downfall at all. However, in their car or their house, and on their time, you are their guest. Flexibility is a fantastic learning tool.

7. Sometimes you are in extremely remote areas, and this can be inconvenient. Who cares though, its a trade-off for a great experience and a new friend outside of the partying, traveling, backpacker crowd! Often times, remote places are more memorable than the alternative. For me, it depends on where I am and what I want to do as to whether or not I prefer to CouchSurf or stay at a hostel. Sometimes, being remote is fine because I want to relax and be with the people. Other times, I have an active schedule in mind, and it can take a lot longer commute time to try to hitchhike everywhere I want to go, and a lot more money and effort otherwise.

8. There are good people in the world. If there is anyway to renew your faith in humanity, the Malay locals will certainly light your fire.


More to come while in Borneo! Cheers

Are you a traveler or a tourist?

"Tourists don't know where they've been. Traveler's don't know where they're going." - Paul Michener

Thailand has shed some light on the backpacking whirlwind I was caught up in for the two months before I arrived there. I almost forgot what "normal" tourism was like. I almost forgot what Americans were like. Backpacking creates an entirely different environment than short-term tourism, and expat lifestyles.

G.K. Chesterton said it best, "The traveler sees what she sees. The tourist sees what she came to see."

Travelers and tourists lead essentially different travel experiences. The traveler or backpacker is a tourist and expat in one. We have a budget and we have an extended period of time - like an expat. We do this while we are foreigners trying to experience a new land and get the biggest bang for our buck - like a tourist. However, for some obvious reasons, and not so obvious ones, tourists and backpackers live very different travel lives.
So here are what I find to be the major differences between tourists and backpackers;

1. Time constraints - a backpacker is usually not in a hurry, usually doesn't have a place to be, and usually only makes his or her own time constraints when there is a sudden desire to go or do something different - or that sad day is approaching when they return home to work their ass off for the next adventure (or their visa expires). Backpackers travel on island time (we can meander and wander), not city speed (trying to fit everything in to the day at lightening pace). A tourist basically has a small window of time within which to fit all of his or her hopes and dreams of the place visited. A tourist is banging out the main spots, seeing and doing as much as they can while they can. We all are, really.

2. Money constraints - backpackers have this, big time. We want to see the world and we want to do it slowly, taking as much time as we want, and have a little bit of money left to survive when we're ready to settle down. The backpackers are looking for that local price. What you might spend on a weekend out with your buddies in the States, Australia, New Zealand, or Europe, seems pretty reasonable for those nights when you're off from work and want to spoil yourself. Well, that is every day for a backpacker, and "spoiling" yourself while traveling sometimes just means you are paying the tourist price for something that locals get the same of for cheaper. We are not about to "spoil ourselves" every damn day and still manage to travel the world for months or years.

3. Accommodation - Due to money, and sometimes personal need, tourists don't typically stay in backpacker hostels, or homestays. Anyone traveling less than a month is more than likely going to lay on the beach at a resort with Mai Thais being served to them by some guy who makes 2 cents an hour. I'm not knocking it, you're on vacation, you deserve to de-stress and have someone wait on you once in a while. No way in hell are you sleeping on a top bunk bed during your precious vacation time from your stressful life. As a backpacker, however, I am feeling pretty damn spoiled if there is air conditioning, an in-suite bathroom, a proper locker, and bread with jam for breakfast. Damn, sometimes you just want that American style buffet brunch, even though you know you wont eat half of the food offered, its there and that is luxurious in and of itself. I'm surprised I haven't peered through the window of the Marriott to watch brunch like its food porn. Window seat is free.

4. Transportation - again, money is a factor, but then again so is time. Buses take time, and are cheap - sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes overnight, sometimes the air-con leaks on your face, or the person next to you smells like they lived in India for 5 months without showering. I have been on overnight buses that were too short for my legs, so I stretch out over the top of my recliner kicking my neighbor in the head occasionally (that's how Vietnam introduced me to valium). Then there were overnight buses that were beds for two, and someone else with a ticket got to be my bed buddy (like in Laos, or Myanmar). One memorable trip was the overnight bed-bus in Laos, sweating without air-con and trying not to touch the sweaty body laying next to me for fear of sticking together and producing more heat. Then there are bus companies in some countries that are under the delusion that they are bigger and better depending on how loud they show a full-length feature film in the middle of the night (Myanmar with their Burmese soap operas, and Thailand with their blockbusters). I want to thank whatever Thai bus company it was that decided to show the second Hobbit film at the highest volume from 11pm to 2am. Sometimes earplugs are completely useless. My favorite buses are the ones during the day that play local music throughout the entire ride (Cambodia, Vietnam, Nepal) or slow down so that other locals can jump on the moving vehicle and we don't waste too much time by stopping (Nepal, Myanmar). I could discuss at length the sort of transportation I've used just to save a dollar. Motorbike for three with 5 bags of luggage. Overnight boat that was one giant bed for 100 people with insects falling in my face, and rain sweeping in from the window. Lots of times, when I'm on your average 5 hour mini van trip, the van would stop and all of the locals would get out, and I would have no idea what's going on. The best was when bathroom rest-stops in Nepal meant stopping at the jungle while the ladies go in one direction, and the men go in the other. There was always someone sharing tissues or hand sanitizer. I had a good laugh that time that I hopped on the wrong overnight bus at a rest stop and had to bang on the driver window, waking everyone up at 2am, so that he opened the door and I could jump off as it was moving to go and find my assigned bus. Thank God that was not a day that I indulged in a sleeping pill. Theres the time that the tuktuk driver didn't realize that I climbed on the roof of the car during a drive through the forest, so that I could take in the beautiful view of the mountains. Or that time 30 of us sat on the floor of a long-boat on our way to a no-name abandoned island for the day. -- Its interesting to hear about right? The reason I had these experiences was because I didn't want to pay for anything that would run my budget dry, and I had the time for it.  Unfortunately for tourists, these experiences are few and far between, simply due to the fact that land journeys take a lot longer than air, and a short term vacation usually means being able, and needing, to afford a domestic flight.

5. Tours - theres the kind of tours that are advertised at the Marriott, and theres the kind of tours advertised at the central backpackers hostel. This is when tourists can really lose out, paying double or triple what a backpacker would pay for the same thing and actually getting the same thing. Then there's times when you really truly get what you pay for, and the backpacker is lumped into a van or boat full of people hoping for the promised adventure and soon learning that they were all mislead about what they were paying for. Mainly its the difference between private tours and group tours - flower pedals on your clean bed every day, versus a leaky sink and stained towel. Sometimes its a roll of the dice, but always, as a backpacker, you have spirited people with you on the adventure!

6. Food - Well, really this also depends on the degree of openness that the traveler has. Sometimes it takes time for tourists to open up to the idea of eating on plastic patio furniture in the street with only a metal cart of food in baskets with flies all around, and a wok frying pan as the kitchen. It can take time for a foreigner to learn that this is what locals call a restaurant. I remember as a tourist in Morocco it was particularly difficult to choose a "local" place to eat based on cleanliness, since food poisoning was so common. Backpackers, expats, and sometimes locals, call the local run-in-the-mill restaurants "street food", and backpackers live off of it. I can pay $.50 in Myanmar, $2 in Cambodia, $1 in Laos, $1 in Vietnam, $2 in Thailand, $1 in Malaysia - and for that price I can have a delicious, home-cooked, all natural, local meal. Tourists are usually going where they are sent or recommended, and not looking around in order to stay in their budget. A tourist wants "local food" they go to a proper westernized restaurant and they get it, the same enormous plate I got for $1 in the street, they will get for $5 in a restaurant and it will be smaller and not like mama makes it. Of course, like I said, there are tourists who know better, have traveled much before, or are open to all of these new foods that you come across in travel. However there is no necessity to find cheap local eats, only desire. Backpackers have both the desire and the necessity.

7. Language - being a backpacker does not mean lower standards, it means no expectations. Hostels may not be concerned about how much English their staff speaks, and guesthouses and homestays definitely involve language barriers. As a long-term traveler, a backpacker can pick-up some crucial local words, or even learn the English words that a local could understand easier. For example, instead of saying "can you wait for me?" And repeating this over and over with sign language, I simply say "you wait me." It's almost always understood, and communication is more efficient. I have found that the poorer my English is, the better I am understood. Suddenly I am saying to friends back home things like "no have" and "wait me." This is not to say necessarily that tourists lack this skill, or even that all backpackers take the time to learn how to communicate, however, being in the same place for a long time and traveling at a slow pace creates an openmindedness that simply may not feel necessary for the traveler who is passing through. Sometimes learning is hard work, and people don't want to do it while on vacation.

"When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not meant to make you comfortable. It's meant to make its own people comfortable." - Clifton Fadiman

8. Attitude - One thing I have learned, for sure, the longer you stay in one place the more time you have to fall in love with it and the more tolerance you build. I have met negative backpackers, negative tourists, as well as tourists who are openminded and backpackers who put a sincere effort into loving and learning from every experience. Of course, after traveling for a while, the backpacker usually evolves into having a "backpacker ideal" of simplicity, fun, understanding, open-mindedness and ease. After traveling so many countries, and seeing how different people can be, the only way to truly live and love is with an open mind, and patience. Unfortunately this is when tourists often fail to take the time to grow from travel. There are so many people who go to a country for a short while, unfamiliar with customs and culture, expecting things to be accomplished in the same manner as it would at home. I have seen tourists yell at locals for making them wait because the bus was late. I have seen tourists insult locals, for the quality of the work that they do, to their face. Rather than comparing or observing customs, I have seen time and again the judging of them. The savvy tourist will have the open-mindedness and patience of a backpacker. Unfortunately not all tourists are savvy, and neither are all backpackers. However, backpackers will often flow with the culture and what is going on. I suppose this is also freeing for some people. Tourists, even the openminded and easy going ones, often don't have enough time to travel so that their stress is completely released and their need to control and plan dissipates. The ability to "flow" is much more difficult to obtain. It took me months before I was able to release all of my stress and float through some places, rather than force my plan and not create worry in a situation that is out of my control. It took me time before I was walking at a local pace. In some places dogs would bark at me like I was a threat to their life when I was moving quickly or breathing heavily - when I slowed my pace it was as if I became one with nature. The fact is that backpackers can simply show up, and have the freedom to figure things out as they go, and to do so at the pace of their choosing. Tourists don't have that luxury.

"If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion, and avoid the people - you might better stay at home." James A. Michener

9. Meeting locals and making friends - it has mainly been while traveling that I have experienced the natural connection between people. Often times back home, the person sitting next to you will observe and experience the same thing, and still no one will communicate about it. On hundreds, literally hundreds, of occasions while traveling it has been the norm to turn to the person next to me and start a conversation. Where are you from? We are more connected to where we are from and where we have been than the person sitting in front of us sometimes, as a result this questions is often asked before the person even introduces themselves. It is because of this that I make a conscious effort to ask people their names first. Then, there's the backpacker questions of: how long are you traveling for? Where have you been? What was your favorite place? Where did you start? I can now list off the countries I've traveled at lightning speed.
Backpackers get more in your business than tourists too. After all, we have been sharing rooms with strangers for months on end, and we understand the difficulty of budget travel. So backpackers don't hesitate to ask: where are you staying? How much does it cost? Even more so, how are you affording this? I have come up with my standard answers, and in doing so have realized that tourists don't really ask these questions, not unless they are desperately curious for the same thing and always with the prerequisite of "i hope you don't mind me asking." Tourists are more likely to keep to themselves, also more likely to be traveling or meeting up with other people. The tourist wants to talk enough to have share a moment, but not enough to make a travel companion. The backpacker is the same, we are all in constantly changing environments as travelers - when we meet those special people who are worth traveling with its really a gift. However, when a traveler is with a companion, or on a fixed plan, it is harder to leave their bubble and expand to new people and alternative plans.

10. The party - we all pretty much party the same. I think that tourists do this the right way, and backpackers could learn a bit. Again, it depends on the person, but when I am traveling in a conservative country I am mindful of that, and often times I look around and see backpackers and tourists in revealing clothes, publicly drunk, and yelling every which way to their friends. In this case, maybe we're all doing it wrong. But when it comes time to party, we can. We dance to the crappy electro music and Pitbull songs from 10 years ago, we get sweaty, drink buckets of alcohol (literally), and are completely open to meeting people.

I'd be interested to see if other people who have traveled can understand and agree with these points or not. Being a backpacker has made me feel as if I am a part of a secret society that understands something that others might not. We are well-rounded, but by accident, through travel osmosis. We have tasted it all, from the BBQ rat, to the luxurious air con hostel, to camping on a deserted tropical beach, to fried scorpion, to invitations from complete strangers to go on overnight excursions, and on and on with all of the awesome and weird travel opportunities we get, learning from each of them all along the way.

Cheers

The Best of Thai

One of the things I fell in love with in Thailand was the language.

First are the many English phrases that tourists here over and over again like, "kha," "no have," "have," "cannot," "can," "finish," and the overall Southeast Asian go-to of "same same but different." The reason the people speak like this in English, in most Southeast Asian countries, is because it is a literal translation of their language. Mai dai - cannot. Mai me - no have. Me mai - you have?

The politeness form used in every day language is "kha" if you are a woman, and "krab" if you are a man. Sometimes i would overhear phone conversations and every other word was kha or krab. It's yes, it's thank you, you're welcome, and simply serves as an overall respectful recognition of the other person.

My favorite thing about the language was the intonation. It sounded like something I would call a whine. Thank you was never just khabkhun kha, it was khabkhun khaaaaaa with a rising inflection on the last note of kha. It became less like a whine as time went on, and more like a song. After 6 weeks in the country I enjoyed using local phrases and intonations as a way of communicating. Tinglish. By the end I would just throw in "kha" at the end of every sentence. "Okay khaaaa!"

Although Thailand was not my favorite place in Southeast Asia, it was one of the places that felt like home. Everything there is communicable, convenient, and navigable. Most places are not far from a dusty city with a thai massage, motorbike rental, 7/11, and fried chicken nearby. What more could you need?

The north of Thailand, as well as Koh Tao, and Koh Lanta (islands in the south) were by far the best and most memorable parts of my experiences there. The people were friendly, the food was fantastic, the shopping was fun, the activities affordable, and the environment to meet people - both locals and travelers - was saturated. Bangkok was not my favorite place, not because it was a big city, or crowded with tourists, no, it was because the local people were obviously burnt out by tourists. On several ocasions I experienced unkind interactions among the tourist handlers, even locals deciding to ignore me when we were in the middle of a conversation. Truth be told, communication was exhausting and had to be extremely clear so as not to offend or insult, and even then, sometimes I would walk away as the one feeling insulted.

In 8 weeks, beginning from the North, I went to Chiang Rai, Pai, Chiang Mai, Sukhothai, Ayuttaya, Bangkok, Kanchanaburi, Bangkok (two week break for Myanmar followed by land border crossing to...), Mae Sot, Tak, Chiang Mai, Bangkok (for a 12 hr bus layover), Chumphon, Koh Tao, Surat Thani, Krabi, Koh Lanta, Koh PhiPhi, and Hat Yai before land crossing into Malaysia.

There was so much that I did and saw in Thailand, and it was the longest I have stayed in one country since I began traveling in 2014. Here's what stuck out the most;

Most Visited Place

7ELEVEN! Back to the land of convenience, where there are 7Elevens on every corner - making all of my first aid, beverage, and food needs easily met. The go-to for backpackers are the sandwich toasties, the cigarettes, and the Chiang beer. On top of this, 7Eleven has become such a cornerstone for travelers in Thailand, that a lot of the t-shirts sold on the street will simply have their logo on it to sell to tourists. The first time I saw a 7Eleven in Asia was in Thailand, and it was like finding the Holy Grail. Then I learned that the Holy Grail was on every corner. 

Best Shopping

It is a toss-up between the night market in Chiang Mai, and Khoasan Road in Bangkok. The clothing is so cheap, and usually the material was such good quality, that I couldn't go wrong. With the exception of the several pairs of shorts or pants that would continually rip on the same butt-seam - I had no shoppers guilt. I bought everything I needed, to the point that Thailand left me equipped with a new speaker system, new clothing, shoes, dresses, hats, sarongs, and everything in between. It was heaven on earth for someone who had been traveling wearing the same six items of clothing for eight months. My confidence was in need of a wardrobe change. Chiang Mai was cheaper than Bangkok, and in Bangkok the bargaining was not nearly as friendly as in the north. When push comes to shove, I still walked away with all that I needed.

Easiest Border Crossing

I entered Thailand from Laos, and also from Myanmar, and I left Thailand entering into Malaysia. BY FAR the simplest, easiest, and fastest border crossing was going from Laos to Thailand. It was also the saddest to be leaving behind such an incredible experience during my time there. 

Most Spontaneous Adventure

Almost all of my spontaneous adventures happened in Pai. One day, I went for a walk on my own and came back with my first tattoo. Another day, my friends and I were leaving a waterfall, and needed a taxi. I said it would be better to hitchhike instead of paying for a taxi - since pretty much everyone leaving the waterfall would be returning to the city. So, we hitchhiked, and the people who picked us up ended up being from the same group we met at a bar the night before. They gave us a ride back to Pai, and then to the canyon to watch the sunset together, and we continued a night of music and amusement from there.

Best Food

By far, green curry with chicken. There was one particular place in Mae Sot that changed my perception of green curry - forever. It was run by a middle aged couple and located in the center of town. There was nothing to do in Mae Sot, so after a day of walking about with a Spanish friend I made, we ran into the only restaurant open for an 8pm meal and it turned out to be the best Thai food of my life. An enormous vat of green curry, spicier than "Thai spicy" as requested, and filled with vegetables.

Cheapest Food

Pad Thai. Pad Thai all day, every day, anywhere, any time, for around $1.

Best Day Tour for My Money

The cooking class I took in Chiang Mai was deliciously memorable. My travel buddies and I went to the market to learn about the foods, and although I was strung out on only a couple of hours of sleep, I woke right up when the heat was turned on. It was interesting to learn about the spices, fruits, and vegetables that virtually don't exist in America. I got to learn how to cook my favorite Thai foods, spicy spicy. I don't mean to brag, but I basically make the best green curry ever. Thanks to our tiny upbeat chef making us laugh the entire class, it will definitely be unforgettable.

Not My Favorite Day Tour

While in Chiang Mai, some of my friends and I decided to head over to Tiger Kingdom to see the beautiful animals there. We all had read about the purity - or lack thereof - concerning these "sanctuaries" or "rehabilitation centers." At Tiger Kingdom were tigers, and even lions, locked in very small cages being photographed, and taunted by foreigners and workers alike. The Kingdom says that they "rescue" the tigers at a young age, rehabilitate them, and release them back into the wild at 2 years old. However, what grown ass Tiger is going to laze around while people playing with its tail and rubbing its backside? A drugged tiger. What baby is not going to try to playfully bite? A drugged baby. The feeling in the pit of my stomach at this place was not good. I paid the money to see the smallest tigers. I gave them as much love as I could ,and otherwise tried to observe the workings of the facility. I couldn't wait to leave. A month later, I learned that the sister-sanctuary run by monks outside of Bangkok would be closed because of abuse, and exploitation for tourisms sake.

Most Memorable Encounters

Me and My Sukhothai Lifesave, Mr Ng

In Sukhothai my friends and I borrowed bicycles to ride 14km to the famed ancient ruins in this small dusty town. After riding along the same route for some time, I sped up as much as I could, eventually looking back to see that my friends were no where in sight. I returned to where I saw them last, backtracking the same way, and still no where to be found. I had no internet or cellular reception to use. I had no idea what the name of my hostel, or the name of the ruins were. I had no idea where I was. Continuing on the path, I asked directions. No other city in Thailand gave me so much of a language barrier. I pointed, and used simple words. Most people directed me to the police station, which I went to. Eventually, I said to myself that I had no choice but to hitchhike. The heat was a desert, I had no water, and I just wanted to find my friends. This is the second of many times that I would hitchhike in Southeast Asia. I waved down a truck. The driver did not speak English. Luckily, there was a phone number on my bicycle for the hostel I was staying at. With some hand motions, the driver invited me into his car, put my bike in the trunk, and off we went for AN HOUR in search of my hostel. I will definitely remember Ng as my angel that day. When we finally arrived where I was staying, I offered him money that he refused. All he wanted was a selfie with me as a thank you. This is when communicating via laughter becomes a powerful tool in foreign travel.

Best Self-Employed Day Tour

While I was traveling on my own for a week in Kanchanaburi, I had met some Canadians and American who wanted to rent motorbikes. On our last day together we drove to Erawan National Park, where there are some killer waterfalls, and we made the drive up to Hellfire Pass for some World War II history and memorials. I suppose we didn't realize that the driving would take two times longer than google maps says, since we were on motorbikes. However, it was certainly a highlight to drive two hours to Hellfire Pass and walk the circuit of memorials in the valley there. We leisurely strolled through many Australian memorials and Western memorials. The powerful history of the abuse towards the Prisoners of War, from places like the United States, United Kingdom, Thailand, Vietnam, Myanmar, Malaysia, Australia, and New Zealand, really brought a spiritual and meaningful presence to the experience of walking through the place where thousands were killed. Why have I never learned about the Japanese in WWII and POWs before? Nazi Germany, and People's American History of the United States must have occupied all of my history courses. When the war was over, railway was not able to be used past a certain distance, and it was later destroyed. People slaved and died for it under Japanese regime, and then it was taken apart once repossessed by England. It was certainly heavy, educational, and memorable to be there. Simply learning about the conditions the POWs were living in brought tears to my eyes. After Hellfire Pass we drove another two hours around the National Park to the entrance, where we trekked through the jungle and swam in the waterfall for a short while before riding another two hours back to town and visiting the night market for dinner. This tour is offered by local companies, and costs over 1,000 baht. We did it for about 500 each. There is nothing like the wind in your hair while speeding along an empty highway with nothing but your thoughts and a destination. 

The view looking out over hellfire pass

Favorite Animal

My favorite animal in Thailand is, by far, the elephant. During my first visit in Chiang Mai, my friends and I day-toured to the Save the Elephants Wildlife Reserve. It is one of two reputable elephant sanctuaries in Thailand. It is the ONLY wildlife reserve that allows for the animals to roam free on many acres of land, feeds them, bathes them, and does not allow any other kinds of touching or riding. Hopefully, the government will eventually have a wildlife sanctuary to help save the elephants - for now the Thai gov't seems to keep its head down over the topic. The elephants we met were beaten, broken, and wounded by the life they had before they were rescued. Some of them were forced loggers, or forced into reproduction - essentially being put into a cage and raped by the male elephant for the benefit of people. All "domesticated" elephants in Thailand are taken at a young age from their mother, the wild, or both, and put into a cage that does not allow them to move - at all. While in that cage for three days they are tortured, stabbed, and beaten until they stop crying. My friends and I tearfully watched videos, during the tour, of the abuse that all "domesticated" elephants in Thailand go through. It's the concept that breaking their spirit will give them a new one, and that new spirit will do whatever its told. They wont cry or fight for their mother anymore. They will just shake from trauma, withstand the weight that they're bodies are not meant to hold - or they will be beaten more without restraint. Elephants are such soft, elegant, sensitive creatures. There was no way I could spend a day at this sanctuary seeing the abused elephants - some with permanent physical damage or emotional trauma - and not fall completely in love with these giant beauties.

Standing in front of the White Temple in Chiang Rai during sunset.

Most Profound Spiritual Experience
The most beautiful Buddhist temple I have ever seen was in Chiang Rai at the White Temple. The design of how the sun hit the white building and all of its mosaic bling - along with the actually enforced ambiance of silence and respect - made this place one of the most peaceful temples I have ever been to. 

Best Island

Koh Lanta. Low season was the best gift I could have received, and Koh Lanta was the deliverer. This conservative Muslim island was essentially abandoned during low season, so my friends and I had complete run of it. We did whatever we wanted, skinny dipped, sped around on motorbikes, slept anywhere, danced for no reason, climbed trees for coconuts - it was paradise. We were completely free. Between traveling with a group of high spirited loving people, the empty beaches, partial nudity, fast motorbikes, good and cheap food, and abandoned resorts, there was absolutely no way that I would change a second of my time there.



Most Rebellious Experience
While staying on Koh Lanta, my friends ventured to a rocky beach where a resort was locked up for the "off season." There they decided to set up camp for the night using mosquito nets and hammocks. The night before the campout we had a full BBQ, in the dark during a rainstorm. Using all of the utilities of this abandoned resort, we had shelter, an oven, a bathroom, and everything. It was probably the best trespassing decision of my life.

Best Party

For an every day party, I would say Chiang Mai had it going on. It was possibly my favorite city in Thailand. Every night all of the travelers would cultivate their little backpack community at Zoe's in Yellow - a local indoor/outdoor club taking up an entire block of the city. The best party, however, was celebrating the Thai New Year (Song Kran/Water Festival) for five days in Chiang Mai. All of the streets became a party. There was music blasting constantly, trucks of people with ice-water buckets stuck in traffic and attacking any passerby. The party started around 10am and ended at sundown, when everyone changed their soaking wet clothes, got cleaned up, and prepared to head out for a crowded dance-party at Zoe's. This went on for days. People wore raincoats and ponchos to drive through the city on their motorbikes. Tuktuks locked their windows. Everyone with a brain kept their phones in a waterproof sealed bag. Travelers coming and going during the festival had  to run through the streets so as to not get their travel bags soaked. Everyone had a water gun or bucket of some kind. It didn't rain at all during the entire festival, yet there was flooding half of a foot on some streets, and the road constantly looked as if a storm had just passed. There was no leaving your home unless you were prepared to get wet. People who were not in the spirit stalked up on food like it was the apocalypse so that they could survive without leaving their home. There was no way you wouldn't make friends, or be attacked by local children. There was just no way you could not have fun. So Tee Pee Mai! (Happy New Year)

SongKran by Day

SongKran by night

Best Hostel

The best hostel I stayed at, was hands down, Potae's guesthouse in Chiang Mai. Potae was a young lady who opened her business less than a year earlier. I would say that Potae and I became friends during the week that I stayed with her. She had everything, pods for beds so there was plenty of privacy, air con, small breakfast, directions and tours for anything and everything, and during the Songkran Water Festival she provided us all with buckets of water to dive into the Thai New Year with. She even hosted a night out with all of the hostel guests during the last night of the festival.

Proudest Accomplishment
I successfully received my Open Water Diver license. It has opened me up to an underwater world of possibilities in my future travels and adventures. Also, on my last dive of the course, I got to swim next to an enormous barracuda that you can vaguely see in the photo.

Best Sunsets
Nothing compares to the island sunsets

Most Memorable Moment
I had many many many memorable moments in Thailand. Getting lost with my Swiss and English friends in the dry jungle of Pai on our adventurous hike to a waterfall. Nights of dancing in Chiang Mai, and making loads of friends there. Reuniting with the same friends when I returned to Chiang Mai a month later. Diving in Koh Tao, and cliff jumping in Koh PhiPhi. The adventures of Koh Lanta, and the White Temple in Chiang Rai. Jungle walks, beaches, ancient ruins, border crossings, Khoasan Road, hospital visits, Royal City Avenue, temples. After its all said and done, the people I went on these adventures with added life to my day, and a skip in my step. They made the taste sweeter, the day brighter, the music smoother, the high higher, the laughter louder. My Swiss, English, Canadian, Kiwi, Danish, and Austrian friends are who I will carry with me in my heart forever. When it comes to Thailand, my most memorable moments will always have one of them in it.