Travelin' Andy

AMERICA

My trip around the world was only about seven months. 200 days. During that time, my entire life had changed. It puts things into perspective to think that both a family member and a close colleague had passed away during this time, having shown no sign of an issue before I left. On the flip side, new friends and family members have been born into this world in the past seven months. Many relationships have been created, destroyed, weakened, and strengthened. Some careers have taken off, some stunted. Some people have matured, some people I now look at quite differently, and it seems that some people will never change given any amount of time. The winds of change are significant, and even that that has remained solidified in time is now seen through a different lens.

Even though 200 days is an insignificant amount of time in one’s life, it can absolutely be the most significant time in one’s life. Among many things, I have learned never to underestimate the power of a short, yet focused, span of time.

I had returned to America like a ball of fire, inspired with more ideas than I knew what to do with. My hometown, Traverse City, Michigan, is a time capsule; if the smallest detail were out of place in this town, it would probably make the news. I wanted to hit my home turf running, but my friends and family set up a welcome suited for a hero. It was obvious I had to take some time to tell stories and spend quality time with those I seemed to stress out with every successive blog posting. I’m pretty sure I owed them at least that.

So I took some time to relax, observe, and reflect: boating on the gorgeous Torch Lake with good pals, hunting quail with my dad, taking a Bikram yoga course, playing lots of basketball, working out, and participating in family birthdays, barbeques, and weddings. I attended a local brew fest, saw the US slide guitar champion perform, tailgated and watched my Wolverines kick tail at the Big House, and watched some high school sports with my nephew. I even hopped a flight to Portland, where a select few friends showed me one of the best times of my life, including an amazing concert at the Crystal Ballroom, some wicked bar hopping, an intense game of flag football, meeting some business contacts, revisiting old ones, a couple of barbeques, a few heart-to-hearts over coffee or a happy hour beverage, and all the college football games I could handle. I embraced every moment with new appreciation, enjoying each experience more than ever before.

Now, having been removed from American culture for some time, it is interesting to be re-immersed—this time with a slightly more observant eye. Some remarks will be viewed as negative, some positive; either way, they are simply observations. Here are a few trends I’ve noticed, all of which are direct contributors to my current state of culture shock:

1. We have high expectations and short tempers. It appears that many people live in their small, respective bubbles where a stubbed toe in the morning is allowed to spiral an entire day into the worst ever. Really? How can one let these kinds of things ruin an entire day? Next time someone cuts you off in traffic, do you shrug it off? How about a stain on your shirt? How about a strange look from someone? How about someone not saying hi to you when you walk into the office? Take notice at how long something like that affects you and your day. If you think about it, these things are so silly and meaningless, and there’s almost never a good reason to let them get to you. Since my return, I’ve noticed an overwhelming amount of passive aggression, and people aren’t willing to take notice of what’s really bothering them until they explode. On the flip side, I am impressed with the person that rolls with the punches, creating opportunities out of problems. That's not easy for most of us!

2. A popular attitude appears to include a generous portion of cynicism. This may be a Michigan (or, Midwest) type of thing, but it’s interesting how new and big ideas are immediately dismissed or squashed. Isn’t this country known for innovation, creativity, and risk? Maybe it’s the current economy that’s pushing people toward tried-and-true ideas only. For some reason, I expected people to be excited about new ideas inspired by cultures all around the world, and I was surprised at how quickly you get the “that’ll never work” response. I did notice that this attitude took a huge turn when I visited the west coast.

3. People are so busy! Well, at least they are too busy for their friends, family, and anything else they actually want to do. With every other face immersed in what’s going on in Facebook and their iPhone/Pad/Pod, incessantly refreshing inboxes, checking virtual statuses, and building up callused thumbs from furious text messaging, it seems that it's more important to get all your meetings to fit into a schedule than it is to actually question the point of the meeting itself. Likewise, it’s almost unsurprising that I have to schedule a meeting just to spend time with my seven year old nephew. Are we more interested in cyberspace than physical reality? And has this resulted in our international reputation for being the most impatient country on Earth? If everyone’s so impatient, it must be because they have important things to do in their free time, right? I mean, certainly the last thing they would want spend their off hours doing might include thinking about work, putting themselves in a vegetative state in order to cope with work, complaining about how they don’t have time for anything because of work, or spending copious amount of time aimlessly surfing the web. Gosh, that sure wouldn’t make any sense at all… People in other countries sure don’t have all the luxurious we do, but it’s possible that their simplicity of life keeps their priorities front and center. The big picture is something easy to lose sight of when life is packed full of frivolous details, distractions, and complexities. A little tip: When you’re deep into that important conversation with a great friend, turn off your phone and close your laptop. Realize the difference between living life and being distracted from it.

4. Having spent much of my time abroad with other travelers, I have experienced an unmatched amount of openness, acceptance, and raw enthusiasm. It’s unsurprising, yet mentally shocking, to discover quite the opposite attitudes in one’s own country. I know that when I recount some of my travel stories to people in the States, most are quick to exclaim how “gross”, “awful”, “uneducated”, or “just plain wrong” some other cultures are. I notice that I am impressed when I hear a response similar to, “Wow! That is so different than what we do here.,” or, "Why do they do it that way?" Most, however, don't really care "why"?

5. Something that’s got me pretty irritated these days is that we are severely lacking national pride. It’s actually very rare to hear an American say anything nice about living here. Go outside of the US, and each country has a long list of problems as well, but you’ll still hear the citizens singing national songs, running through the streets draped in their flag, and shamelessly bragging about how much better their country is than yours. When traveling abroad, most people agreed: “We absolutely love American people; they’re the best! We just hate your government.” OK, that’s a decent start. Until we get a better attitude, we’re pretty much as useful as that beautiful young model that thinks she’s a fat cow. Annoying, isn’t it?

6. No one is allowed to tell it like it is in this country, because God forbid we offend anyone. We are, by far, the most sensitive country I’ve seen (in terms of political correctness), and we encourage the vague, flowery talk by our politicians. In many countries, your emotions and feelings are secondary to making improvements in the country (but let’s not get into the topic of politics and corruption in other countries!). In America, we have seen many politicians with excellent ideas and potential be completely slandered due to a single politically incorrect comment (oftentimes meaningless and/or taken out of context). You can completely destroy anyone’s name in this country with a political correctness issue, and we all spend a lot of time disclaiming or defending ourselves from non-PC accusations. Of course, nobody wants a bigot in office (or anywhere), but let’s not be shy from the politician with a firm grip on reality that tells us the truth about our current situation, even if it hurts a little to hear it. This point carries over into casual conversation, as well. I get asked a lot of cultural questions, and I’m forced to make generalizations. Stereotypes are there for a reason: they are consistent trends attached to specific cultures. There are great reasons why the Chinese excel in math and science, and Americans excel in management and innovation, etc. Of course, there are always exceptions. But there’s always some angry person reminding everyone of that obvious piece of common sense, as if no one else in the room was aware of it.

7. For a country that’s so PC, I’m amazed at how judgmental everyone seems to be. Two seconds and people claim to everything about you. I used to be one of these people, so seeing this hits me pretty hard.

8. Our legal system is nuts! You can actually sue someone when you break into their house and hurt yourself. Seriously!? Other countries would just call you an idiot and put you in jail. America will take money from the victim and fund your retirement. I catch myself from helping people out sometimes, that they might abruptly fall down or something, and then sue me for every penny I’ve got. How dumb is that!?

9. I’m amazed at how some people seem to “know” absolutely everything. With the Internet and television, who needs to do silly things like travel? It amazes me how outspoken people are, putting flimsy sources up against someone else’s direct experience. It’s scary how much people trust their virtual sources as absolute truth, and I’m gaining a larger appreciation for the well-educated person who can still say, “I don’t know for sure.”

10. People are fanatical about their TV shows. I feel like I need to start watching a few different series just so I can speak with some of my friends at all. Outside of television, I’m not sure there’s anything else to talk about!

11. Even my mom has an iPhone! I am still amazed how useful iPhoners are—as well as how useless they become when you separate them with their iPhone. I’m partly surprised man doesn’t start evolving a marsupial pouch on their hip to carry around this extra body part called the iPhone. What a phenomenon!

12. We are severely lacking in the spirituality department compared to almost every other country in the world. It was shocking to come from India—where every single daily activity was influenced by religion—and then arrive in America—where whispering the name of God makes people offended. Again, heaven forbid we make someone uncomfortable in this country. (Like many of these points, I'm not saying I'm for it or against it... just an obvious observation.)

13. Greed is God. Nowhere else have I seen people push themselves so far for superfluous cash and self-promotion. Similar to other countries, however, money defines one’s image and level of success, so I guess it’s no surprise that the richest country attracts the most ambitious folks.

14. There is a whole lot of boredom here. And with boredom comes increased drama. And man do Americans love drama! Other countries have told me how an American can make a big story out of absolutely nothing, and that I was no exception. I never thought of myself as dramatic. But now that I’m back, I see exactly what they were saying.

15. We have amazing air! Yes, air. It smells crisp and clean, and this simple thing had me buzzing for days. It sure didn’t hurt that the temperature and humidity were perfect (coming from a place that was 115 degrees in the monsoon season!). I also have a new appreciation for our sewer, garbage, and maintenance systems. If you don’t know anything about these systems, that’s what makes them so amazing!

16. People follow the rules of the road. Yeah, people sometimes speed, cut others off, run yellow lights, etc. If you haven’t already, please take a trip to a third world country, and learn about how many people get killed per day on the roads. We’ve got it good.

17. It was so crazy to drink clear water straight from the sink. I can even open my mouth in the shower without fear of a week on the toilet. Awesome ☺

18. Everyone speaks the same language I do. It’s interesting how much your linguistic agility contributes to your overall personality and ability to articulate. I’m suddenly clever and funny again! (It’s been awhile…)

19. I can trust people again. We have ethical policemen (the majority of the time. The police are the last people you trust in a foreign country.). We have standards, regulations, checks, and balances to keep people and businesses honest. And when I get approached on the street, I don’t have to think about how I’m going to fight my way out of the scam. What a relief!

20. There are hardly any bugs or animals that can kill you in America. Sure makes hiking a little more comfortable.

21. People care about the environment. The days of throwing a beer can out the car window are over—it’s not the same elsewhere. Environmental awareness hasn’t quite made it to the third world.

22. America truly is the land of opportunity. It really is possible for almost anyone to make it big here, whereas most countries keep each class in check. Some Eastern countries actually value the man that conforms and doesn’t do anything special in life. Some countries just kill the man that stands out, and then they wonder why they’re not a world leader in innovation.

23. WE HAVE THINGS SOOOO GOOD HERE. It’s a damn shame that so much of it goes unappreciated. It’s impossible to appreciate something that you’ve always had, so I encourage folks to strip themselves of their comforts every once in awhile. Challenge yourself. Undergo some hardship. It makes everything you have so much sweeter, and it’s well worth the temporary struggle.

I’m not new to the readjusting process that comes after a long trip abroad: I expected people to be superficially excited to hear about what I had seen (and not so much about what I had learned). I expected to be frustrated that I simply wouldn’t be able to describe my experiences in a way that others (having not experienced exactly the same thing) would be able to relate to and understand. I expected people to ask approximately 2 or 3 questions about my trip before taking the rest of the time to talk about themselves. I expected to get bored and restless frequently, experiencing the harsh change of pace between survival and the daily grind. People who don’t expect these types of results after a long journey are in for a rude awakening upon their return. But there’s something else utterly devastating about returning home after such an experience; something I actually did not expect…

Miriam Beard is credited for saying, “Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” As previously mentioned, I returned with a deep understanding of who I was, what I wanted in life, and a decent idea of how I was going to follow my passions. However, when I returned home and began to look at my own friends, my own family, and my own culture, this so-called solid sense of identity was again put into question.

Jumping into a culture is a lot like jumping into the middle of a stampede: if you don’t run along with it, it’s pretty certain you’re going to get overwhelmed and crushed. It didn’t take long, and I could actually feel myself losing momentum and settling exactly into the same mental situation as when I had originally left. Of course, this was pretty upsetting, and I couldn’t let this happen. But, as with all culture shock, there’s always an initial urge to fight, which is eventually followed by the ability to accept. It’s near impossible to change your family, friends, and culture to what you envision as ideal; the only one you can control is yourself, and even that can be a mountainous challenge.

Additionally, your own culture’s shock is always the hardest. It’s exciting to return to things you find comfortable and familiar after significant time on the road. But then you find that “your people” aren’t exactly like you anymore. You’ve changed, of course. But should you now change back to blend in with them? It’s obvious to everyone: you’re different, but you’re different in ways that don’t make perfect sense. So now what? Where do you belong now? Where’s your “home”? Where will you go, and what will you do? And are you going to have to do it alone? Will anyone “get it”, or are you going to have to accept that you are now in an alternate reality, unknown and ungraspable to others?

The answers to these questions are specific to each individual. And before you find your answers, you experience a tormenting feeling like tightening your brain in a vice; it’s a real shock to see certain things differently after a lifetime of blind acceptance, and it’s easy to spin into a deep depression or confusion during the process.

It’s a good thing I have a near-endless supply of journal entries to serve as constant reminders, and I’ve never lost sight of the big picture, the master plan. It appears that once you can accept your environment and culture for what it is, you can then learn to embrace it for what it is. And after some time, you will eventually find a way to adapt your unique recipe of talents, skills, and personality in a way that is both productive and fulfilling for yourself as well as for those around you. In other words, the culture learns to embrace you; you just have to let it.

It’s not easy, but you have to trust in the fact that it’s all a process; some pain and confusion are relieved when you understand and expect certain things, but that doesn’t mean you're not immune to it. After it runs it's course, however, and all your newly established philosophies, cultures, and attitudes are adequately balanced and blended, the result is an unparalleled spike in motivation, appreciation, wisdom, and overall joy. ...You have now successfully completed your re-adaptation process. Congratulations, and welcome to the rest of your life.

As I end my blog here, I wish you all the very best in all of your crazy lives. Whether you are out there surviving in a new culture, sitting in an office plotting your next move, working things out in a turbulent relationship, or just tormenting yourself by frequently asking, “What am I doing?”—we are all undergoing an incredible journey. And it is oftentimes the support of others that gets us from one adventure to the next. Wherever you are in the process, just let me know what I can do… I’m always up for a new adventure! ☺

DISCLAIMER

In India, there is good, there is bad, and there is ugly. If I mention that something was “ugly” (i.e. “dirty” or “smelly”, etc.), I am doing so with “Western standards” in mind. Just trust me. You do not have to take these descriptions with a grain of salt; anyone reading this travel log will undoubtedly agree if they experienced the same things. If I say something was completely slathered with feces, it’s because it was. I’m a pretty positive person, but I call it how I see it, and sometimes it’s ugly. You’ve been warned.

But don’t get offended or make the mistake of thinking this is all negative and/or depressing. Something what’s disgusting/disturbing/depressing to you may actually be perfectly normal to somebody else. After seeing many parts of the world, you begin to notice that there is no “good” or “bad”, there is only “different” and a respectful (inner) judgment on whether or not something is right for you.

Also, keep in mind that I choose to do difficult things. At even a slightly higher price, it's possible to sleep in forts and palaces, eat at upscale restaurants, and have everything you need organized for you or brought directly to you. With that said, it wouldn't be too difficult to visit India without seeing many of the unpleasantries I write about, below. Everything that I experienced is a direct consequence of my choices during this trip. I know that. You know that. And now you know that I know that. Great. Let's move on.

Now that your minds are wide open, enjoy this month’s post on the magical land of India.

SCAMS

Let’s get the ugliest part of India out of the way first: the constant scamming. In a land where everything is completely foreign, a traveler is generally disoriented and ever-dependent on locals for even the most essential activities. The locals know this as well as one other important point: travelers have money, and lots of it. As a lone traveler, I get the feeling that I’m a magnet for scams, cons, cheats, and low-down, dirty tricks. I had to get sharp, and fast.

Arriving during the off-season (aka monsoon season) only ensured a more concentrated dose of touts. In fact, I even made the local newspapers in an article asking the government to increase security in an effort to curb the hassles. People actually recognized me from that picture (they would recognize me, call me over, and start scamming me! Haha, the irony kills me.)! I have heard so many scams that I was able to finish the sentences of the tout, to which they would sometimes smile as if to say, "Oh, you've heard this one, eh?" Here are some of the notable ones:

• Taxis/Rickshaws simply take you to unexpected shops, guest houses, travel agencies, etc. If you question this, they tell you you're destination "has burned down", "was destroyed", "closed", "is no good", or "is too expensive for you". They will not take you anywhere else because they earn a significant commission if you buy anything.
• Drivers will straight-up demand more money upon arrival to your destination, arguing what you thought was clearly negotiated beforehand.
• When you tell a driver to go to a landmark, they will often say, "Which fort?" or, "Which clock tower?" They know exactly which one you are talking about, and they are just testing how sharp you are.
• Locals will slowly befriend you and start recruiting you for a get-rich-quick gem smuggling program or a foreign tax loophole scheme involving you to make a down payment of "good faith" or share some personal identity information.
• Some locals are masters of the "guilt trip" scam. This generally involves elaborate stories of struggle and misfortune and/or photos, fake business cards, and lots of puppy dog looks. Children are masters of the "guilt trip". Keep in mind that they almost always belong to a begging organization led my some old businessman.
• There is an apparent social code between scamming locals as well as drivers. When bartering a price, they all crowd around and rave about how good the offered deal is (or chastise you for how cheap your asking the price to be). This crowd grows exponentially, and you will start to feel like a street performance.
• The natural progression of questions from a tout is 1) Where are you from? 2) Where are you going? 3) How long have you been in India / First time in India (please do not say yes to this!)? 4) Where are your friends? 5) Where are you staying? and (not really, but may as well be) 6) how vulnerable are you if I were to scam you right now?
• All touts are admirably relentless, and they will not let you get away if you just keep walking. If you do not respond, they will grab you, make a scene, and make you feel like you're being rude and/or adding to the bad reputation of your country (which most locals tend to think is Germany for me). I am thankful that I am generally larger and stronger than most of they guys. Solo females: I don't know how you make it through the day.
• Right when you think you've made a friend, they will ask you to some chai tea and to visit with them in a "friendly" cafe. However, they will lead you to dodgy hole-in-the-wall where everyone there seems to be in on the scam. This happened to me twice, and it's an extremely uncomfortable situation. One time got aggressive, the other was completely prevented. In either case, it's probably best not to drink the chai.
• Hindu "priests" will appear from nowhere, ninja-style, smudge a red dot on your forehead, bless you with holy water, and expect a donation. If you don't give them anything, they curse you and your family for eternity. Sorry Mom and Dad...
• Some locals try to squeeze anything they can out of you, even if it's just a few rupees by "watching you shoes" while you were in a temple, "reading a sign to you" even if it was in English, or simply for "being your friend".
• It's not common for local women to ever talk to a foreign male, so this is an easy catch: beware of the mother asking you to buy milk/food for her baby. She will later sell it on the street for a quick buck, and many times the baby is actually a doll wrapped in a scarf.
• One scam I'm particularly fond of starts with, "Can I just ask you a quick question? Why are tourists so cold to us?" Then you say, "Because we are constantly getting scammed and we don't know who to trust." Then they say, "Scammed!? That's awful!! What kind of scams?" They want to get a feel for what you've heard so they can scam you with something new. Hilarious

I posed a hypothetical situation for one scammer who couldn't seem to understand the tourist's point of view: "Pretend you visit a land where the local people are purple, and every time one approaches you, they haul off and sock you directly in the nose. You try to be open to this new culture, but this happens 17 times in a single day, and each time sucks worse than the last. Upon the 18th approach, you recoil to defend yourself, and the purple dude calls you cold, insults your country, and accuses you of bigotry." ...My scammer appeared uninterested and changed the subject to regain control of his scam. Completely futile...

And it's a complete and utter shame that the majority of tourists do adopt this stereotype for Indians, having only visited tout-infested, tourist destinations. Get off the tourist trail even just a little bit, and watch the touts get replaced by the most helpful people on the planet. In fact, they are helpful to a point of embarrassment. Ask where the bus stand is, and you will miss your bus hearing all about the man's life, family, job, etc. If they don't know what you're asking or they don't know, they will make up an answer or change the subject so as not to look like a fool (which can be appreciated yet frustrating). Their curiosity can also make for an interesting interchange when they ask you directly about money, sex, religion, and your political votes. The reverse works, as well, when you reflect these questions; many things in Indian/Hindu life are simply not talked about in public, but they don't seem to realize this until the question is pointed at them. Also, in a small desert village, a sweet old woman just walked up to me, slowly reached up her hand to my face, and gave my beard a healthy tug. Ya know, for curiosity’s sake. Ouch! Everyone giggled (except for me). But seriously, they are some of the warmest people who will drive both you and themselves crazy trying to do nice things for you. It can get pretty out of hand, and hence, quite comical.

A huge annoyance of mine, however, is the "head wobble" that people tend to respond with. "Is this the right train?" Head wobble. "So it's not the right train?" Head wobble. "So it is the right train?" Head wobble. "Do you understand anything I'm saying to you?" Head wobble. Ugh. So far, I have reduced it's translation to "yes", "no", "I don't know", "I don't understand", or "whatever / go away". You just learn never to ask leading questions. One time, upon receiving a head wobble, I head wobbled back, and he head wobbled back, and this repeated for probably 20 seconds, just staring at each other and wobbling our heads like it was some kind of a silly game before I just burst into laughter. I guess he won.

And that's exactly how you need to treat a lot of these things in India. It's all a game, a giant challenge that you wake up to every morning. What scams and lies will I run into today? Will I make it to the planned hostel at the end of the day? Point A and Point B are usual defined, but the in between path is always completely bananas. It's your job to understand that that's the fruit of India. The alternate attitude of high expectation is a depressing state of hopelessness (which is exactly the unfortunate state of many (hermit) travelers along the way).

A few notes on the cities I visited:

Kolkata: This city embodies chaos. The streets were jam-packed with people by day and lined with people and animals sleeping (or very possibly dying/dead) by night. Many people used the streets as both their shower and toilet, and one man's rubbish is definitely another man's feast (and one man's bodily waste is many a bony dog's feast). In a city park, I was able to meet some very friendly folks, get involved in a cricket game (which I still don't even minutely understand), and learn about "kite-battling" for money. This, along with the desperate eyes of the overwhelming number of sick, disfigured, and starving human-beings that covered the streets, is what I'll remember about Kolkata.

Delhi: My intro to the relentless scams of India; I had to take four different modes of transportation just to get around the lies and to my original destination. I was delighted to see elephants and camels liven up the highway alongside the endless stream of monotonous vehicles. It appeared that the entire city was under construction, surrounded by scaffolding, in a sweltering and dusty plan to prepare for the World Games in 2011. The only things I really had time to do here was visit the markets, enjoy some delicious street food, and see the famous Red Fort. I am loving the colorful dresses of traditional Hindi women: bright saris encrusted with shimmering jewels, bangles, henna tattoos, intricate ear and nose rings... it's almost like every single part of them has thoughtful decoration.

Agra: Home of the Taj Mahal, and the hype is justified. It's a marvelous semi-transparent, white marble palace erected by a heart-broken maharajah after the passing of his wife. It really is a heart-stopping view, and no photo can replicate its image. Additionally, the Agra Fort is pretty remarkable, offering many stories of royal drama, charming gardens, special ladies-only grounds, and excellent views of the Taj Mahal. Both fantastic spots, but really nothing else in this touristy town besides angry and greedy rickshaw drivers. I'll walk, thanks...

Jaipur: The Pink City. Painted pink long ago to welcome a visit from Prince Albert. There were a ton of cool sights to see around town, so I opted for an organized tour to cut on transportation costs. Since all the other tourists on the bus were Indians, it was refreshing to meet a group of genuine ("real") Indian folks (highly educated, to boot!). My conversations with some of these people were the highlight of my entire trip to India. Wonderful people. Sights included the honey-combed entrance of Hawal Mahal, the City Palace (with an awesome weapons gallery (including "tiger claws", "four-barreled elephant pistols", camel-mounted cannons, and legendary swords), royal treasures and ridiculous luxuries, and beautifully carved plazas.), Jantar Mantar (a giant observatory of celestial measurement and the precise telling of time (awesome, and still referenced today by experts), Jaigar Fort (not so intimidating painted pink on the outside and infested with monkeys, but it does possess the largest mobile cannon ever built (with a range of 30km!)), Nahargarh Fort (atop a hill overlooking the city), the famous Amber Fort (my personal favorite; I loved the ancient, ruined look, but I got a little freaked out when I got utterly lost in the steamy and suffocating, unattended, pitch-black, rat/bat-infested labyrinth of basement halls.), and Lakshmi Narayan Temple (white marble, devoted to Lord Ganesh and Krishna). I was going to cap the day off with a Bollywood film (in the best Bollywood theatre in the world), but some aggressive and openly-threatening touts in the ticket line nixed that idea. Ya gotta pick your battles, and one against six is not a smart one to walk into. I gave my general audience ticket to an excited teenager.

Jaisalmer: The Desert Town. This dust bowl was (literally, I think) as hot as hell. Over 115 degrees, in fact (gotta admit, I was close to passing out on two different occasions). I've never fared well in the extreme heat, but throwing caution to the wind during this trip has been a consistent theme, so I decided to take a camel on an overnight trek into the dunes. I was joined by a few chatty but sweet English girls who were relieved to have a male chaperon, and we had an amazing experience trotting through the sweeping dunes, cooking chai and chapati (flat bread) over an open fire, learning some local song and dance, and hearing a few old camel driver stories. Sleeping under the stars didn't exactly workout, however, as it actually rained in the desert(!). Fortunately, we were close to a mud hut village, and the people were more than happy to share-a-shack, thinking it was us that brought the rains they had be waiting for all year!). The next few days made for more-than-difficult walking (spiny camel back!), and my sweatbox of accommodation was debatably the worst in 6 months of seedy travel (ants, roaches, bed bugs, rats, broken fan, dirt/feces on everything, leaking ceiling, mold, you name it), but I can't complain for two bucks a night; I'm at a point where I just lay a clean towel down and I'm happy anywhere so long as there is ventilation and I can escape the constant honking of horns (one of the few things I can't seem to get over).

Jodhpor: Unfortunately, I didn't really see much of the Blue City (the color is said to repel mosquitoes). I was pretty ill, restricted to a great room with attached bathroom (soooo important during my time there), where I read all about meditation, Gandhi, the Jain religion, and did epic battle with whatever was living in (and trying to destroy) my guts. Did you know that the Jains love all life so much that they brush their path wherever they walk so as not to step on insects? And the ancient Bishnois once protested a royal command to chop down some trees on their land, so the army chopped off their heads, one-by-one, until about 350 Bishnoi heads were severed, and the maharajah finally just decided to respect the Bishnoi land and go somewhere else? Crazy sacrifice! Not really sure if that qualifies as a big win for anyone, but that first tree must be thinking, "Wow. That's really nice of you guys, but it's really not a big deal; I'm a tree." ...but who knows; I'm not a tree. Don't mess with people's beliefs; that's all I know.

Pushkar: The area of my 10-day meditation course. This is a tiny little hippie hangout just outside of chaotic Ajmer. I met loads of "far out" travelers here, all migrating to the spirituality of this place. It's one of the most important Hindu pilgrimage sites with hundreds of small temples surrounding a (currently dried-up) lake between two steep mountains. The hotels are quite comfy for Western folks, serving familiar things like pizzas and pancakes, sandwiches and milkshakes. And the shops sell tie-die clothes, dread lock hair maintenance, and bhang (local hash) with all the accessories. It's ambiguous as to the law on drugs here; Lord Krishna is known for his love of cannabis, and Hindu priests are found stoned out of their freaking minds at all hours of the day. However, all the locals will say it's illegal when asked. This is probably the first time the ambiguous "head wobble" response when asked would have been actually appropriate.

Mumbai: I gotta admit, after an uncanny streak of tough luck when I arrived in Mumbai, I kinda just crashed in my guest house room for the 24 hours I was here. I was just plain ol' exhausted. However, I did get a good view of the slums and the thousands and thousands of people that sleep under the lean-to tarps. And I also walked through the touristy areas of Calaba and the Fort to find India's elite class and that every building looked like a castle. I'm told the nightlife is fantastic, but I don't exactly know from experience...

Indian food (when it's agreeing with my system) is pretty great, and the variety is huge: tons of curry options like tikka masala and paneers; flavored flat bread like paratha, chapati, papad, and nan; full course options like tandoori-style and Indian thali; sauces like chutneys and humus; fresh items like olives and dates; fried goodies like pokadas and sweet cakes; delicious rice plates like biryani and roti; tasty drinks like hot, spiced chai and sweet, yogurt lassis or lichi. This stuff is all fantastic, but three servings of spicy, liquidy veggie-food takes its toll and leaves me craving (blasphemous!) red meat. For now, however, I find that a simple apple or banana every now and then is a decent break to keep me interested in the local cuisine for this extended period of time. I eat a lot of crackers as a preventative measure.

Train travel is the way to get around in India. It's super cheap (I covered the whole region with seven stops over thousands of miles for less that a hundred bucks, mostly in the comfort of A/C, free linen, and my own bed!), it's fairly quick, and you meet some interesting folks. As all things in India, however, it comes with a bag of tricks. Firstly, they won't announce or show on a schedule board if (or on which platform) your train has arrived at the station, and the people around you will withhold that critical information from you like it's a funny prank (they announce most changes in Hindi). Few signs are written in English. And even so, everything is poorly labeled. For example, it might be posted that your train leaves at 10:30pm on Platform 5, but it actually left at 9:40pm from Platform 4 (this happened to me, and it was by shear chance that I was on the train). They also do not announce when you've arrived at your stop; you just need to know, and of course there's no sign, so you need to rely on locals again. And right when you think you've escaped those mosquito-like touts, they're on the trains, too! You'll be sleeping soundly at 3am when you get poked right in the cheek and asked which hotel you're staying in. When this happened to me, that was the closest I got to performing a fatal flying punch from the 3rd tier bunk delivered directly to the tout's trachea. Instead, I just slowly and firmly threatened his life. And with eyes like saucers, he got the message and slowly backed away. I had no trouble getting back to sleep.

LIGHTNING ROUND

Health Gauge: Oh man. Ohhhh man. Let's just say there's a permanent indentation of a toilet seat on my butt. It must've been pretty bad for me to voluntarily head into battle with Ciproflaxacin, a drug that kills pretty much everything in your system (good and bad) so you can start from scratch (which actually wasn't as rough as I expected). Other than that, I'm as thin as a 15 year old desperate for some red meat and a gym membership. My energy's still high, though, so I have no complaints.

Highs: Convos with "real" Indian people (mainly local tourists), Taj Mahal, meeting desert folks, learning meditation, side-stepping scams like they were dodge balls

Lows: Aliens in my belly

Next Steps: Look out, y'all; I'm a comin' home! When I originally planned the trip, I had other countries like Turkey, Egypt, Eastern Africa, Argentina, and Brazil on the agenda. I'm confident I will make time to see all those places and more, but I've already gotten what I've come for. I've achieved the personal growth I needed, and I've acquired a solid grip on my passions in life. I've found that when one really knows what they want in life, they become focused. And significant time spent on other things tends to provide a feeling of stagnation, and the current experience goes underappreciated.

So that's where I'm at. When traveling, incredible things happen every single day. Early on, it's all so inspiring. As time passes, you get numb, and even the most surprising thing doesn't even phase you. That's another clue it's time for me to return; save those new experiences for another day, a day when I need (and can truly appreciate) them. (By the way, thanks for encouraging me to keep this blog going. It has forced me to dig deep and really think about my experiences from an outsiders viewpoint, whereas I may have just dismissed most things on my own).

Technically, India isn't the last country for this trip. The final challenge is actually my home, the great US of A. How am I going to see the same things differently? How am I going to respond to the pace, the culture, the comforts and familiarity? How am I going to re-enter in to a super politically correct, gossip-rich, "age of entitlement" society of unlimited consumerism that feeds on a consistent flow of Friends and Family Guy reruns. How am I going to handle life where the biggest stress of my day is orderly traffic in the comfort of my A/C vehicle during a commute or arguing with a roommate over who does more chores? Time will tell, and I'll be monitoring...

(Don't get me wrong; I truly love America. Why else would I come back? I just need to have an idea what to expect so I don't get overly shocked. Call it a defense mechanism of cynicism/pessimism)

And since the US is my last stop, it warrants it's own posting. However, the spamming is over, and I promise I won't torture you with any more "look how great my life is" emails again If you'd like to check it out, just visit the same ol' blog address. The final post should come out about a month after this one.

Man, it feels like a lifetime ago when I appeared in Fiji, all fresh and excited, ready for all challenges (but not having the slightest idea of what any of them would be). In reality, that was only 200 days ago. I've meticulously noted the changes and growth since then, and I'll be writing up an essay on some of the important lessons I've learned and wisdom received during this trip, as well as an overzealous ode to Travel (yeah, I'm nerdy like that). If you are interested and would like to receive this essay, just contact me and I will be more than happy to send it to you by email. (It will most likely have some strong opinions in it, not particularly fit for a public forum).

As for my plans moving forward, well, it's complicated (yet calculated... you know me!). Let's go grab a coffee or a cold one, and I'll tell you all about it. For now, let's just say I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. You also have a lot to tell me about, as I most likely haven't been reading your blog over the past 7 months!

Best wishes to everyone; I absolutely cannot wait to see all of you soon!

I was pleasantly surprised to see that the touts and scams had calmed since Thailand (upon my arrival in Kathmandu, Nepal). Oh, they definitely unleash on you in swarms the instant you exit the terminal, but I now have an appreciation for hard, honest, aggressive salesmen. So impressed, in fact, that I went with the most persuasive one, and to the cheap hostel of his choice (and of his commission) in the downtown area. I made an easy sell for him, and it was so nice to actually want what one of these guys was selling(!).

Downtown Kathmandu is pretty nuts: cycle/auto/rickshaws, cars/trucks/motorbikes, the constant pressing of horns, semis and oversized buses pouring black exhaust into the ever-hazy ski, thousands of pedestrians weaving through the vehicles, and throw in some lost cows and goats in the middle of the road that narrowly miss instant death at a rate of 17 times a minute. No worries about sun damage, though; even if the sun is able to penetrate the haze, it’s still no match for the thick layer of sweat and soot on my skin.

The first thing I did once a bed was established, was hit the street to find a good Himalaya trek and guide. As I was speaking to the many agencies, however, I learned that I could probably do these trails alone. I was wondering on whether or not this would actually be a good idea over some Tibetan bread and Masala tea, and that’s when I met Rem: a porter/guide of about 15 years who, because of the low season, had been hard up on finding work. After talking to him for awhile, he agreed to join me on a 21-day mountain adventure just so he could reacquaint himself with the people along the way. Of course, I offered to pay his way for the opportunity to snag a (otherwise free) personal translator for the journey. I was feeling mighty sneaky about the whole thing.

So, we stocked up on gear (all knock-off brand Northface; super cheap, yet medium quality), processed my permits, and headed out to begin the famous Annapurna Circuit the very next day. While walking the streets, however, Rem thought it was pretty funny how a local drug dealer approached me so he could buy drugs from me(!). I suppose that’s a pretty good hint that I look like a bum these days.

Now, I’ve taken many a bus during this trip, but these Nepali highways have a distinct flavor. Of course, they all drive like hell. But, since the highways outline steep mountains, there are constant blind turns every 50 meters, which always makes for a suspenseful moment when your driver is overtaking the truck in front of him (and the guy in the truck is accelerating alongside with a big grin across his face).

Right when you start to get impressed with the “skill” of these guys who never seem to misjudge the road, you start to notice all the accidents around you. …and you should see these accidents! There were countless overturned buses, accidents that looked more like a plane crash, and even semis that had driven off the cliff. It was not like anyone walked away from these collisions. Also, breakdowns are more than just common; they’re expected. Our bus broke down twice on the way there, and once on the way back. None of the local passengers seemed to mind, and I was more than happy to take a break from clenching my teeth.

The bus rocks left to right as the driver swerves in and out of traffic. And if you’re lucky enough to get a window seat on the cliff side, you can actually get a stunning view (literally) straight down into the gorge of jagged rocks below(!). With all these twists and turns in the road, I was just starting to feel a little dizzy and light-headed, so I closed my eyes to gather myself. Just then, I felt a warm splash on my face. The girl in front of me had apparently been feeling the same way, and when she heaved out her window, it went directly back into mine. Awesome. I slowly looked over at Rem with my eyes clenched half-shut and laughed.

The trail started in the dark, steamy jungle with Langar monkeys swinging over our heads. Eventually, it opened up into neon-green rice fields and lively mountain-side villages. Rem knew some of the people along the way (having done this trek 17 times), so we were more than happy to stop, chat, and share some food and tea along the way. We also made and drank rice whiskey which was pretty cool. One of the men asked if I would like some chicken, and before I could answer, he grabbed one by the feet and hacked off its head. In that moment, I decide that I would love some chicken.

Every night in the jungle produced a glorious thunderstorm, and I slept soundly in my simple “tea house” accommodation (no need for camping!).

We ascended for about four more days until it starting getting quite mountainous, during which time we played some local games with some of the village children, saw a sick man getting carried to the nearest hospital (3 days walk) in a basket on another man’s back, scared some local women with a small snake we found, and passed plenty of donkey caravans fitted with colorful decoration, charming bells, and massive loads of building materials and supplies. Oh, and the views were also pretty good.

We lived on a steady diet of Dal Bhat (rice, lentil soup, spicy paste, papad (like a crispy tortilla), and vegetable curry) and enjoyed the subtle buzz of local chewing tobacco while on the trail. Because of the significance of the monsoon season, we met with many sadhus (priests) and monks who had been on pilgrimages—some since as far as India with nothing more than a blanket and a trident (symbolic weapon of Lord Shiva)!

The mountainside breeds tough people; the kids start by walking 3 hours (each way) to school, and young boys start carrying loads (~60lbs) with the donkeys when they’re about eight.

The further north we trekked, the more the temperature dropped, the thinner the air, and the greater the Hindu influence turned Tibetan. The houses were made of flat stone, and the villages were lined with prayer flags (written desires released into the air with the wind). We visited numerous monasteries where we were able to talk with the monks. It was so interesting to learn the many customs and rituals directly from the people who practiced them.

Eventually the thick jungle turned to crisp-smelling pine trees, which then turned to small shrubs and rocks. It now took two normal breaths to equal a normal one at sea level, and the icy wind started to burn the skin. Nevertheless, I was beginning to feel stronger with every stride, invigorated by the most rewarding scenery. The trail was also lined with blue sheep, deer, and wooly yaks (but don’t eat “yak cheese”; a female yak is a “nak”, so I wouldn’t touch any so-called dairy product from a yak).

On Day 8, we reached the Thorung La Pass at about 5,500 meters. A 10-second break just leaves you shivering, your snot freezes to your face, and you can actually feel the altitude messing with your brain (which you can also feel melt away as you descend the other side). People get killed due to improper acclimatization, and I (now) can definitely see why.

Down in the village of Muktinath, we encountered an important Hindu pilgrimage site filled with burial grounds, cleansing baths and fountains (108 sacred cow head fountains spraying chilled mountain water) and various worship temples perched above a beautiful, green valley. The air was filled with ancient chants and celebration, and it smelled of inscents and hash (from the super-skinny, dreadlocked Hindu priests). Quite an interesting place.

The way back South was when the monsoon really hit. It was three days of constant downpour. Every time you looked at your boots, they were covered in leaches. It was no use wiping them off; dozens of them would just reappear the second you put your foot back on the ground. When Rem had me check him, he always had leaches all over his neck; they were actually raining down from the trees! At the end of the day, we would douse ourselves in salt and patch up the blood. Relentless little suckers!

On our last day (the 14th day, making it a week early), we booked it all the way to muggy Pokhara, where we chipped in for a motorbike, and I got to drive around the busy city like a local: speeding through small crevices between cars, laying on the horn, and just being a plain ol’ A-hole. So much fun

Exploring around the Kathmandu area revealed historic Darbar Square and Patan (a royal palace surrounded by ancient temples), Pashupati (a giant riverside Hindu cremation grounds where we watched about four bodies burn and be swept into the water), Swayambanath “Monkey” Temple (where I had to fend off one of these overly aggressive beasts that was after my camera), and the Boddanath (a giant Buddhist “stupa”). I now feel adequately versed in both Buddhism and Hinduism.

And since I hadn’t had enough, I made a personal pilgrimage to Lumbini, the birthplace of the historical Buddha, himself. This small, rural village is located in the Terai—Bengal tiger, one-horned rhino, and hummingbird-sized mosquito country. I can’t describe how much I enjoyed biking around this huge countryside, visiting the many monasteries established by most Buddhist countries, visiting with the people, and learning about the teachings of Buddha.

One funny story, however, includes me arriving early to the very spot of Buddha’s birth, a beautiful pond. Having the entire place to myself this peaceful morning, I figured I’d try to have a spiritual moment and meditate in front of the pond for about 10 minutes (I’ve been practicing, but I’m definitely no Zen master). About 20 minutes later, however, I woke up, confused and sprawled out on the ground in front of a small group of equally confused monks. Slightly embarrassing…

LIGHTNING ROUND

Health Gauge: Cuts and infection, a SWAT team of leaches, the scare of a stomach parasite, bed bugs, and a chipped tooth… Nepal was a little rougher than the others. But, like many good fights between adversaries, I feel like now we’re best buds.

Highs: The tireless hospitality of the Sherpa people, tackling seemingly impassable peaks, finding inner peace (or just some extra sleep) at Buddha’s birthplace, World Cup parties, making contacts and getting involved with some of the hot businesses in Kathmandu

Lows: Vomit in the face!

Next Steps: This post comes at you from Agra, India; site of the Taj Mahal (just saw it and, yes, it’s amazing). I’ll be traveling around Rajasthan for the next couple of weeks with the itinerary of a madman. Afterward, I’ll be undergoing a meditation retreat, boot camp-style. I’ve never been known for my patience, but with over 100 hours of stillness in 11 day’s time… I’d better change soon.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading these posts and checking out some of my pictures. It has been a great trip so far (best decision of my life), and I have definitely gotten everything out of it that I was looking for. Many people have been curious about more of the “soul-searching” part of the trip. Well, those details aren’t really exciting to everyone, but I have recorded enough of thoughts, tips, philosophies, exercises, and inspirational stories to write a book. And someday, I just might do that.

For now, it seems I have one more post to make before uncovering another chapter. I wish you all the very best.

Thanks and take care!

Two nights in Phuket turned out to be more than enough, and I decided to buy a same-day flight to Northern Thailand, to Chiang Mai.

If I were to live in Thailand, I would live in Chiang Mai. The people are friendly, the hawkers aren’t too aggressive, the food is fantastic, there is plenty of work for foreigners, there are beautiful temples on every corner (over 200 in the city), and the markets are good and super cheap. But it was mainly about the people, so friendly and easy to meet. I was even able to meet a few monks who gave me some insight into their religion.

One highlight of this trip that I was looking forward to was the jungle trekking in the mountains with elephants and monkeys. There are hundreds of these trips from Chiang Mai, daily. But I feel as though I found an extraordinary one.

My group was three long days in the jungle. The first event included visiting the Hmong tribe in the mountains and participating in a funeral where I was selected to give a speech to the people over the corpse of a rotting woman (!). The locals genuinely appreciated having us there. Next, we ate chicken beak soup with them, smoked some kind of wood shavings from a bong, and shared enough rice whisky to get us all nice and buzzed before even starting the trek! (...and why wouldn't we do that?!)

However, once the trek got underway, we learned about the many applications of the jungle plants, how to find freshwater, and the numerous uses of banana trees and bamboo. We were given machetes, and we were constantly using them to chop, slice, and kill various things. We fished in the mud of waterfall lagoons and hunted flying squirrels in the trees. We set traps for jungle rats, rode a couple of giant, foul elephants, learned how to tell if mushrooms are edible or poisonous, and took a bamboo raft down a raging, chocolaty river after a rainstorm. We met a second hill tribe, learned about their customs and traditions, and stayed in their village. Our diet consisted of a healthy combination of squirrel, frog, frog eggs, insects, snake, river crab, small fish, and plants.

The trek was challenging, exciting, educational, and beautiful. I have not heard the same from other travelers on their treks. I shopped around quite a bit before booking this trek, and I’m very glad I did!

Back in Chiang Mai, I took a day to buy new clothes (mine we all soiled from the jungle. Also, my medium size in the US is an XL in Thailand… something I wish I knew before buying underwear! After putting those on, I felt like one of those stress dolls that you squeeze and its eyes pop out.) and do some temple spotting with my Thai and English pals before being treated to a traditional Thai feast, all-you-can-eat buffet style. You cooked everything yourself at the table over hot coals, and it was amazing. Thai women love to serve you food, even if they're not hosting. That’s just what they do. I never fought it. I mean, I was only respecting their culture

I wanted to stay in Chiang Mai, but something was pressing me on to Chiang Rai and the Golden Triangle (Sop Roak and Chiang Khong) where I touched the Thai, Lao, and Burmese border before deciding to enter Laos. Paul (English guy, my travel partner from Ko Lanta) and I jumped in the back of a normal pickup truck (with 21 other passengers), standing and holding onto the back if the truck as we flew up and down the mountains through thick jungle along the Mekong River to Laos. We loved it.

You could tell that Laos was not accustomed to tourism like Thailand: wooden huts with grass thatched roofs, fire cooked food, rice fields, children and adults bathing in the creek water next to the road. It was great to see a culture that had not quite felt the shock of the Western world.

We stopped at a few places on the way south, back into Thailand, but there is not much to report; we were very disappointed in the food after having been so spoiled in Thailand. All we had was noodle soup, and many of the ingredients did not look quite fresh... but that's what they had, so we kept the smiles rolling.

One notable city would be Vang Vieng, Laos. It’s probably the one tourist town in the country of Laos, and it’s all about tubing down the river. I love tubing, but these guys have perfected the business side of it; they have various bars along the way with zip lines that shoot you into the river, tall swinging vines, giant home-made waterslides, and fun activities like mud volleyball or tug-a-war. And if partying isn’t your scene, it was all next to a misty mountain ridge that you couldn’t help but to stare at while floating down the river on your back.

One thing that could not be overlooked in this town was the drug scene, most notably (the more tame) “magic mushshrooms” or “happy shakes” among any other hard drug you can think of. Some restaurants would hand you a menu of drugs instead of food. Paul and I would walk around at night and just watch the insanity unfold: literally everyone was drugged out of their minds, tourists and locals alike. We did a lot of laughing, but it was much more disturbing, however, to see the local children involved with both drugs and sex tourism. There were so many things we saw that had us glancing at each other with wide eyes as if to say, "Wow. Did that just happen!?" What a crazy, crazy town; I’ve never heard of anything like it.

LIGHTNIGHT ROUND

Health Guage: With all this tempting, spicey food everywhere on the streets, it’s no wonder all my bodily orifices transformed into hellfire blow torches (like you needed to know). Fortunately, it was nothing that a few extra bottles of water couldn’t fix. And India is coming up, so that should settle my stomach right down (haha).

Also, bug bites are an issue (super itchy, last forever), but malaria is apparently not. …and no sunburns!

Highs: Motorbiking around cities, rock climbing the cliffs of Railay, jungle trekking near Chiang Mai, excellent food, smiling faces!

Lows: Seeing the long term effects of drugs and prostitution in an area/community, exhausting scams at every corner (you’ve gotta be assertive!)

Cost per day: $38.25 USD

Next Steps: I just got into Calcutta (Kolkata), India, and it is mind blowing. Everything that everyone says is true: so many people, so much poverty, no governmental structure, huge Muslim influence. These types of places (like Bangkok) always come as a real shock to me at first. I’ll have a couple days here just to take it in and get used to it, and then I’ll head to Kathmandu, Nepal, for one month, where I hope to trek my brains out. It’s monsoon season, so that might be a problem, but I’m still as excited as ever!

I hope you all are happy and living well, doing what you do. If there’s one lesson above all that I am learning, it is that we (Westerners) truly live in a land of opportunity; that we can really do whatever we desire to do, and our biggest problem is that we have too many options! Other cultures can’t even comprehend that. But those who can comprehend it, they cannot believe that some people are still unhappy living that way, and I have absolutely no arguement for them.

First stop: Bangkok.

Because I landed at 1am and there was a government-enforced curfew due to the civil unrest, I had to do some wheeling-and-dealing just to get a taxi into the city. It turns out this rule-bending nature is exactly what Thailand is all about.

(Sorry; no pics of Bangkok.)

A 30 minute stroll through Bangkok is enough to traumatize the common Westerner: black, tar-like waters carrying a mix of garbage and pollution crawling down the creeks, grooves carved into the cement walkway to handle the flow of sewage, the odor of rotten sea creatures steaming from the sweaty pores of shouting shop keepers, while teams of dolled-up Thai girls in tight, matching mini skirts beg and plead for the opportunity to massage you (they literally grab and pull you into their parlors). Alley ways getting darker with every step you take, and you start to wonder whether or not you’ll make it out to the beaming, chaotic street again (where it actually feel safer!). There are small, dark rooms you can hardly see into, but you notice numerous sweaty individuals sitting on the floor, huddled next to candles or dim lightbulbs, all working on something you’re sure is illegal but you’d rather not even know. Then you pass a rotten stench: a room full of old, rotting vegetables infested with some kind of enlarged, mutated insects and street animals. Up ahead is a small, unattended room piled with baby chicks; so many of them that they have to stand on each other to fit in the room. The next few rooms look as though they had been bombed 20 years ago.

(Stop being impatient about the pictures. It just didn't feel appropriate to do a model shoot with these people. I'll make it up to you, promise!)

But there’s a fantastic side to it all, as well: tight alley ways buzzing and filled with people frying, boiling, roasting, and sizzling some of the sweetest-smelling, down-right delicious Thai cuisine. There were many large family businesses, where all member were working together to do a great job. Colorful Buddhist shrines in the back of almost every room, and giant temples filled with orange-clad monks and covered with impressive dragons and symbols. However, with tons of traffic, people, noise, pollution, and utter chaos, I quickly jumped an overnight train to the islands and beaches of the South for (what I thought would be) some much needed R&R.

I decided to get off the train in the random city of Trang, where I aimlessly wandered the markets and enjoyed meals and soups for about 60 cents. The city was very local, but I didn’t see much to do, so I carried onto Ko Lanta, a beautiful beach island that was heavily damaged by the tsunami of 2004 and again in 2006. Many hotels and resorts had not been rebuilt, and I found that I was one of the only people on the entire island. It didn’t take long, however, to discover other confused wanderers: a German, a Brit, and a Fin. We stayed at a great place with a pool, AC, and bamboo huts right on the beach for $6 per night. The next day, we all picked up motorbikes and spent an entire day touring the semi-abandoned (yet still beautiful) island, eating excellent home-cooked meals and buying our gas by the beer bottle. Many of the locals treated us like royalty, telling us they hadn’t seen travelers in quite some time, that the island used to be a vacationing hot spot. So strange…

Next was a travel day full of shenanigans: endless haggling with tuk-tuk (motorbike taxi) drivers, a minivan leaving us in the middle of nowhere, negotiating with drug-addicting guides, dealing with a man that I caught trying to steal my passport, and bargaining with everyone at the boat pier (from tour agencies to barge captains to local fishermen) until we finally got a hot deal on a long-tail boat ride to Railay. Everything worked out well in the end... except for the fact that we lost the Fin guy in the process. Still have no clue what happened to that guy… that's travelin' for ya.

Railay has the most beautiful beach I have ever even heard of. The sand is bleach blonde, the water is turquoise blue-green, there are small, rocky islands within swimming distance inside the bay, and it is surrounded by amazing limestone cliffs with caves. I snorkeled the reefs, met some characters lying on the beach, ate more delicious Thai food (I was addicted to tom yam soup and the red, yellow, and green curries), and spent a lot of time rock climbing. There were many more tourists here than in Ko Lanta, but we heard of a more secluded beach that could only be reached by boat or by walking over the jungle-covered mountain. So in the middle of the night, we made the great decision to make the sweaty, 2 hour climb to Ton Soi beach in our flip flops. And as it turns out, Ton Soi beach is full of young, lazy stoners lying on pillows and unimpressive fire dancers. We laughed at the huge let down, and thought of going back to our side of the island, but I said I’d rather swim around the cliffs through all the jelly fish in the middle of the night before doing that hike again. I was joking at the time, but that’s exactly what we did, and it worked out great. No worry, chicken curry!

The next island stop was Ko Phi Phi (ko-pee-pee), well known for it’s unique landscape: two mountains in the water connected my a large sandbar, creating two bays in the center with incredible beaches. I met some more folks in town, enjoyed the sunset from one of the mountain tops, and went back down to experience the nightlife.

This place was packed full of young tourists coming from the full moon party in Ko Phangan (parties famous for drugs, music, beaches, and activities involving fire), and the bars catered to this demographic perfectly: live bands, sports bars, cafes, movies… there was even one bar with a Thai boxing ring. They took volunteers from the crowd to fight each other for free drinks. I watched two guys get into the ring, and they started fighting like girls. Then, suddenly, one guy kicked the other right on the side of the head and dropped him like a sack of rice. Where I’m from, no one kicks in a fight. Who kicks? Well, apparently, the winner does. The guy didn’t get up, and that’s when I left. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t seem like free drinks were worth it when you’re unconscious.

I was starting to have enough of the beach party scene, so I moved on to (it’s important that I have you pronounce it correctly the first time around: pooh-ket) Phuket, where I hoped to master the art of kiteboarding. The tragedy was, however, that there was no wind for three days, so my plans got completely scrapped.

Now, the night life in Phuket (more specifically, Bangla Road in Patong), is only like the things I’ve heard in old bar stories, namely those from Vietnam vets. I never really believed them at the time, but I now have no dougt that they're all true; and I also wouldn’t doubt for a second that it’s only gotten wilder (and full of tricks and scams) over the years. I’m not going to include any details from what I saw (many of which I wish I could un-see), but there are many day-to-day things/animals that I will not be able to look at the same way for as long as I live. Have a serious conversation with me before you decide to visit such a place, and I can give you some good tips to ensure you’ll have a good time and avoid many of the pitfalls that I so narrowly evaded. (Versions of this area are also found in Bangkok and Pataya.)

• * *

Alright, troopers. That oughtta be enough for the moment. Round 2 comes out tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled for that roundhouse kick to the jaw.

Thanks and take care!