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