Travel in 2017 vs. 2012

I recently traveled through Vietnam and a little piece of Hong Kong.  
The last time I left America was in 2012 when I studied in France for three months.  Almost immediately upon my arrival in Vietnam, I realized how different travel is, and how most of my tips had become outdated in just five years.

Technology is the biggest catalyst of change, and I’m curious about how much it shapes culture.  For instance, when I was in France and learning language, I was taught “internet café” geographically and linguistically very early on.

I did have a smart phone when I was in France, but it could do maybe half of what we expect from our phones today.  Moreover, it was a Verizon iPhone 4, which my Apple friends who’ve been with the company for a few years know didn’t have a SIM tray.  In other words, it was hardwired to only understand my carrier in the U.S. and basically an iPod.

I’d have to duck into previously mentioned internet cafés in order to do anything beyond downloaded music and photos.  I get lost very, very easily, and looking back I’m still in awe at how I got around without a little blue dot showing me walking in the wrong direction.

My travel was marked by these internet-happy spots, the equivalent of stopping for gas before driving to the next adventure.  When I changed between bus and train, I knew my stops to go check for messages from friends or directions from the satellite gods.

Fast forward to 2017.  I got a SIM card faster than they stamped my visa.  The Vietnamese government sponsors their cellphone carriers, and that’s partially responsible for how reasonably priced they are.  I inserted the new SIM card into my phone and was immediately joking with one of my friends. While there, my biggest obstacle in communication wasn’t the ability to connect, but simply timezones.  But as long as they were awake, I could speak to whomever I wanted, even from of on a mountain at the other side of the world.

Technology-lead, travel changed from this isolated bubble to being no different than exploring a city in America.  When I was in France, I spent my daily commute writing, listening to the same albums I had downloaded, and almost meditating in my bus seat, unable to communicate with friends or linguistically with those around me.

This was in Strasbourg.  Somedays I’d walk to Germany for lunch, and I don’t even know what that would’ve meant for cellphones.  I’m glad it never came up.  I wonder if the hole in access would’ve dissuaded me from traveling outside my comfort and reception zones.  Instead, it’s some of my fondest memories.

Honestly, I think travel should feel solitary.

I have a few friends that meet travel companions via Tinder.  A few years ago, one of my friends went on what we called her “Sexpodition,”

To be fair, I understand the utility of Tinder in another country.  When I was exploring Hong Kong by myself, I was tempted to use it to find a friend to go to dinner with.  I was blindly looking up places on Yelp, but would rather’ve had a new friend recommend a spot and talk to them about their culture.

And I couldn’t.  I couldn’t find someone available that night that wasn’t looking for sex.  I was not.  I was looking for human connection and I’ve found that is something so rare to find as a woman on those apps.  

And honestly, I don’t need it.  I build friendships rather easily.  I am connected on Facebook with people in Vietnam I knew for maybe an hour, and am grateful for the technology to still have them in my life; but I didn’t need it to meet them.

I even have a connection to someone I never met.  The hostel I stayed at in Hong Kong had these amazing postcards for sale.  They were a unique style illustratively, and when I inquired, the hostel staff excitedly told me that they’re all representative of Cantonese expressions.  I bought a set and asked if I could record one of them explaining their meanings.  She agreed as long as she could film me saying why it excited me so much.  She then sent that video along to the artist who made them, and she found me on Facebook saying how much it meant to her.

Connections are made from being observant and kind to the world around you.

I don’t need to find that superficially, and personally think the easy access of technology deflects my attention from my surroundings.

Some need to travel with those who speak English.  Evolutionarily, it is socially validating to be with someone who speaks the same language, as well as helps travel feel safer and more familiar.  I understand that, and traveled with an English speaker.  It’s my primary language, and see the utility.

But I love the struggle of other languages.  The dance to be understood that’s at the core of every human being.  Loving the linguistic challenge is why I learned French in three months.  It’s why I know ASL, it’s why I choose the friends that I have and what draws them to me.

I love the discomfort and humility that comes with traveling another country.

And in sum, have found technology lessens it.

The postcards.  Art by Bonnie Wong, featured at The Mahjong

The Streets of Hanoi

Thursday I wrote on the side of the rode and then chased a butterfly around the streets of Tay Ho.  It's the Western district, but even there I stood out.  Here's what I wrote:

I am camped out on the sidewalk, next to an electric pole that I mistook for a tree. The heat is palpable. Yesterday [Wednesday] I spent the day in the touristy area of Hanoi's Old Quarters, which is covered in shops, all selling an assortment of products more distinct than the next.  For around $50 USD I found birthday presents for four friends.  I escaped the heat with shopping, getting a tea in an air conditioned café whenever the sweat in my eyes made it a challenge to see.  It was beautiful, culturally new, touristy. I look forward to seeing more outside of this and finding more ways to adapt.

There is a clear distinction between those who grew up here and those visiting. Whether its restaurants with prices and meals only appealing to foreigners, or the fact....that I AM SITTING ON A SIDEWALK writing on the only Apple device that I've seen today. I stand out in America, it is not a surprise that I do here. So, in my inability to adapt, I admire. The slick balance of the Vietnamese people, whirling around on their motorbikes.  Their tolerance of THIS HEAT.  The reformed areas and how much effort clearly went into them compared to the thatched roofs of what they once were and some still are. I am grateful to feel safe as I wander around alone in a tank top (we could just stop there...) with my most financially valuable possession in my hands.

Being here I realize just how familiar I am with Western set-ups. I wanted to go write at an air conditioned café with wifi. I could find that, but would again feel guilt in the comfort. Instead I like my spot here. With ants following the pack as much as Starbucks goers, and motorbike-clad natives staring at me.  I don't get to assimilate, I am here to know what it is to stand alone not knowing the rules of someone else's game. I am grateful to have been let in at all, and will happily amuse in the meantime.

 

 

Good Morning Vietnam

Today I voyage to a new part of the world.

I am going on a vacation to Vietnam for two weeks.  I haven't left the country since I studied abroad five years ago; an experience that immediately shaped me into a seemingly new person.  It pruned the old me, and nourished the branches of myself I was most proud of.  I left feeling like I had a guest pass to other cultures.  Even this week, I met someone from Albania and was able to draw on my study abroad experience to connect with them.

I told them that when I was in Strasbourg, I heard the President of Albania speak at the Counself of Europe.  I recalled that his prestige isn't what I was most impressed by; instead it was his taste in rhetoric.  He chose to speak in English, rather than utilizing translators, so his message would be heard by the majority from his own voice.  This added credibility while demonstrating their country's desire to be an equal with the larger English-speaking ones, and the impact they would like to have.

I was able to recite this impression and connect my respect from this to the person I had just met.

Clearly, linguistics fascinate me.  To analyze them is to identify subtext and create a closer to connection to someone.  To care about them is to respect another person and their culture.  And I am terrified to travel to a country where I do not speak the language.  I don't know taboos to avoid, how to be respectful, how to say hello or ask for help.

In two weeks time I definitely will.  I am immersing myself in my fears, my yearnings, my wanderlust and my insatiable desire to learn.

This past week we all looked to the sky and stared in fascination at the sun and the moon.  We wish on stars and dream of inhabiting other planets.  

And yet there are universes in every individual, lightyears lengths of stories, galaxies of experiences we couldn't possibly imagine from the glimpses we've seen in media.  Even the nature possesses new worlds in their different ecosystems.

So as much as we gaze up at the sky with wonder and curiosity, I plan to bring the same awe to each new person I may meet. 

This trip will no doubt feed my love of language and learning other cultures.  I am excited to sprout new intellect and break down ignorance I didn't know I had.  I promise to write of my discoveries, and share the cultural spores that I collect.  We certainly need them to grow in this nation.

 

Train Day Three

I've met some new people and had more time to think. I suppose this say began during my layover in Chicago, which actually felt super quick for six hours.

I was able to see a wonderful friend and also make the important discovery that I am moving to the right city. I had considered moving to Chicago, and yesterday I realized that I likely would've lent too heavily on that friendship, whereas in New York I am more likely to explore and meet new friends. 

It's like going to a resultant and trying a dish so good, it instantly is your favorite. And every time you come back, you say you're going to order something else...but that one is too good so you never order anything else. And this chapter for me is about discovering what else is on life's menu.  Learning what I love but don't already know.

So it was validation that I am making the right choices. 

As far as the train goes, I had a few great thoughts: I met a guy visiting from Japan, that has been on both of my trains: LA to Chicago, and Chicago to New York. He was in LA for three days and will be in New York for three....and that's actually the same amount of time he's spending on the train. 

I immediately asked why wouldn't he fly to get more time in the cities.  He simply pointed to the window, out of which green swirls of nature tickled our eyes. He said he was here to travel the country. 

It was a literal example of focusing on the journey, not the destination. I also loved they the whirling countryside means as much to him as a big tourist attraction. I feel the same way and that bond I think is another universality between trains folk. 

I met another guy who connected to nature, who couldn't help but gasp at every epic glimpse of landscape and smile at every bridge.  He is in the military and is absolutely different from the guys in Rotchford I met in my college dorm hallways.  They have the same stoicism but what feeds his soul is totally unique to other service men and women I have met.  All of the stories he told were about art, travel and connecting with others. 

About  "finding your freedom."

And that's an appropriate word as I voyage through this country.  Strangely it's a word I don't know that I understood until today. 

In grade school, I mostly associated it with standing up for the pledge during school assemblies.

And now...with the longing for having money and thus choice.

Which is of course ironic, because it is FREEdom.  It's already ours, it's not something we have to purchase or indulge in....but, we do have to define it for ourselves. 

For my train friend from Japan, it was seeing an entire country in a week and two days.

For my military friend it's adventuring in search of others whose souls rhyme with his.

And for me?

I think that's what I'm learning.

And even if I don't yet know my freedom, it's still here. I still have it. Like a wrapped present that I'll one day open and understand. 

And in the meantime?  I will enjoy meeting others on this unique experience, and learning from those that have found their bliss. 

Don't Go Breaking Into Song

So for days now I've been trying to write about my next move across the country; and I finally figured out why I can't seem to post anything:

I'm scared.  I'm really scared. The last time I moved across the country I regretted it. And not like "oh I shouldn't have had that extra cookie" regret, but full on blaming and shaming myself for things that were never within my control; constantly questioning how much happier I would've been if I just hadn't moved. 

And yes; that's why I'm planning to move back to Philly.....but what if I end up regretting that too, looking back at LA as a happier time?   How will I get over losing what I'm leaving behind if Philly isn't everything that I want it to be?

The ending of the movie Sweet Charity has always stuck with me.  (Yes, spoiler alert. Skip this paragraph if you still haven't gotten to watch the movie from 45 years ago.)  In the movie, Charity works as an escort, until she and a customer fall in love. He scoops her up and makes plans to marry her, have her move in with him, and all in all give her a happier life. 

But on the day of the wedding, he leaves her at the alter. Heartbroken, Charity calls her coworkers, with whom she had been living, to tell them she needs to come home. 

But they are too exited for Charity's new life that she can't bare to tell them the news, and through her tears she plays along with the happy fiction, eventually hanging up the phone.  So she is friendless, homeless and completely alone.  That night she sleeps on the bridge that reminds her of the last man to break her heart; once again in pieces after over investing in a better life. 

And I know I'm not Charity.  I don't need a prince to come save me; nor will I ever depend solely on someone else for my survival. But I relate to the happier moments turning to poison as soon as they become memories.  I understand that feeling of calling the friends who want just the best for you and not being able to vocalize that once again - I've failed to find happiness.  I don't even know how to face myself when happens. 

There were moments in this past year where I'd close my eyes, tense my fists and I really would try to go back in time.  I felt responsible for my suffering. 

So what if this move results the same way?

The last time I transferred to a position that wasn't my promoted role, I quit the job. What will I do for work and rent and insurance if that happens again...? Not to mention that I am really committed to this career path.  Is that worth staying in a city where I am sick and miserable?  Or moving but backwards into a role without a chance to show what I have learned?

If you can't notice I tend to catastrophize and plan accordingly for each reality of apocalypse.  I used to panic about subway cars; how would my life have been different if I had gotten into the front car instead of the one just behind it...?  Who would my friends be if I had had calculus for first period and not fourth?  What would my life had been like if....

So I know this nervousness is normal for me.  I'll be happier once the move is done.  I just wish that in the meantime, I wasn't feeling so afraid.

A Garden Party to Keep the Fairy in Me Buzzing

I made myself a picnic this weekend.  It was full of tea and cheese and toast, and I couldn't have enjoyed this treats even just a month ago.  I'm still struggling in many ways, but it was fantastic treat to remind myself that I still am improving.

(If you would like to contribute to my progress, here is the link to my GoFundMe campaign.  Just $10 is a ride to a doctors appointment, or a month supply of one of my seventeen medications.)