The early lessons

After about a week of travel throughout Thailand, I can’t say I’m significantly more knowledgeable about backpacking, Thailand, or life in general. I can, however, narrow down my first week’s education into a few important “lessons learned.” Here they are, in no particular order:
4 Important Lessons Learned from the Very First Week of Travel

Lesson 1: I’m weird everywhere.

This lesson has been brought to my attention time and again, of course, but I’ve never felt my weirdness as strongly as I do here. Example one: a few days ago, Shira and I embarked on a trek through northern Thailand.  Instead of staying overnight at a campsite, we opted to follow our guide to one of the Lahu “hill tribe” villages that are scattered throughout the mountainous region of the north. I was afraid it would be somewhat of a spectacle, as often times while doing similar things in South Africa, I have been made to watch “traditional dances” or forced to awkwardly stare into people’s homes during these cultural experiences. I shouldn’t have worried, though, as it seemed in this case I was the spectacle. I cooed to a baby; it burst into tears. I waved to children, they collapsed into fits of giggles, hiding behind one another. A group of soccer players stared at us, the spectators. One brave little boy even ran up to us, laughed and shook his butt in our direction. Another lesson, I suppose: little boys are little boys everywhere.

Another example of my weirdness comes from my love of running for pleasure. After spending a significant amount of time in somewhat rural Kentucky this past year, I’m used to getting stared at during evening runs. I’d imagine those viewing me looking up from their pulled-pork sandwiches and asking their dinner companions why I was moving at a fast-pace, outdoors, without a motor vehicle. I ran anyways. When I took a half-hour to stretch my legs one morning in the small town of Pai, in northern Thailand, I received the all too familiar stare. “Crazy white American,” I’d imagine them saying as I ran by, attempting to bow politely to every-passer by. Not an easy task, by the way, if you’re simultaneously trying to avoid being chased by street dogs and run over my motor taxis. Ah, motorbikes. Brings me to lesson #2...

Lesson 2: Riding a motorbike is not like riding a bike.

This lesson is shorter, and better explained by Shira’s black and blue legs, her various gashes and the pitiful looks we get just about everywhere we go. It was a terrifying moment to see my good friend smash into the side of a building. It was equally terrifying having to choose between a day at the hospital and cleaning up the mess ourselves. This decision was made for me, as the first thing Shira said, with tear-filled eyes, was “I still want to go to the waterfall today.” For anyone wondering, we did go to the waterfall that day. We went on motorbikes. Motorbikes driven by men that we are assured had been driving since the ripe old age of 11.

Lesson 3: There is such a thing as too spicy.

I used to think I could hang. I would douse eggs in hot sauce, slather sushi in wasabi, even eat jalapeno peppers straight out of the jar (remember? I’m weird). In Thailand, I’ve learned that the Thai word for “spicy” translates directly into “tears-running-snot-dripping-want-to-pull-your-tongue-out-of-your-mouth-may-not-ever-taste-again-hot.” Similar to motorbike riding, I now leave spicy to the experts.

Lesson 4: I can be brave, but cursing helps.

Yesterday, I went cliff jumping. I jumped off of an actual cliff into the Pai river. I think I managed to make the plunge only after yelling the word “fuck” four or five times to relieve my shaking hands. The day before, I trekked through a jungle. In case you’re wondering what the difference between a trek and a hike is, I can summarize by saying that we bush-whacked through bamboo forests, climbed hills while ankle-deep in mud from the storm earlier that week, and used muscles that we never knew existed to pull ourselves along. Upon doing so, I got bit my mosquitoes approximately 127 times and managed to keep trekking only after telling them exactly where they could go. In a word, it was unforgettable. But like I said, cursing helps. 

In case I've done a terrible job at describing the amount of fun we're having while learning all of these important lessons, here it is in sum: I haven't laughed this hard at myself in a very, very long time.

Pleasing my parents

When I was offered a well-paid and interesting job straight out of college, my parents sent me flowers.  When, a year later, I announced my new one-year plan included quitting that job to gallivant around

Southeast Asia, my dad told me I could be a life-coach.

Dad, I just told you I was quitting my job. Plus, I’ve been known to steer friends towards terrible decisions for the sake of hilarity. But still, it’s a flattering thought. At least I know you’re proud of me.

Needless to say, I’m one of the rare 23 year olds who is able to escape the “pleasing my parents” complex. Any overwhelming desire to live up to my parents expectations for me is squelched by the fact that my parents think it’s awesome that I’ve chosen to become a “professional nomad.” Not that I’m much of a rebel, but I assume it’s fairly rare to announce to your parents that you’re quitting your job to go explore Asia and have them say, “That’s fine. We’re going to do that too.”

Why, you ask? Let’s back up. About four months before I quit my job, my mom beat me to the punch and left her job. My dad had us both beat, and was actually living in China at the time. Granted, he had a job, but he was on an adventure none-the-less. Around that point, they both decided to relocate for the next few years. My brother had been living in China for years already and had recently signed up to stay longer. So now, I’m really just joining in the family tradition.

In about two weeks I’ll be taking one 36 liter backpack to tour Thailand and Cambodia. For the first leg of my journey, one of my best friends, Shira, will be joining me. Then I’m off to Cambodia to volunteer, eventually meeting up with my parents in China for an indefinite amount of time. For a “planner” like myself, this is both overwhelmingly scary and incredibly freeing. Backpacking in Southeast Asia has been on my bucket list since, well, I made a bucket list (not coincidentally, I think, when the movie “Bucket List” with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson came out. It was cute and it made me cry -- so what?). My lack of a plan is what makes this so appealing to me. I’ve always liked to think of myself as fairly laid-back; however, this has never been true.  This is my first shot at spontaneity.  Follow me as I fly into Bangkok and make it up from there.