Archive for October, 2003

You’re only as alone as you want to be.

“You’re very brave.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“What about the language barriers?”
“What if something happens to you?”

I never thought much about whether it takes being brave to travel alone. I just enjoy it.

Of course I’m afraid sometimes. But you learn a few phrases in their language, and they usually know a little of yours. I can’t very well sit around at home waiting for something to happen to me here, now can I?

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To sound a bit trite, I strongly believe that “The Universe conspires to help the dreamer….” Those (Paulo) Coelho-esque words sum up everything that I’ve ever believed about “going” and “getting.” In my younger years, I thought that I just had the lucky combination of stupidity, wrecklessness, and sure….a little bravery that I inherited by osmosis, having grown up in a household with three older brothers. If I wasn’t keeping up, I wasn’t playing. Simple as that. If you don’t have just a little bit of balls, you get left behind in a setting like that…..I dreamt of traveling. I love to do it alone.

Traveling solo is liberating…and you’re only as alone as you want to be. My schedule is my own to keep or to discard, as the case may be. And it was my own schedule when it was decided that Nepal was out. And that India was the next place to be…until I Visa to Malaysia at the border. India would be delayed for a few days while I visited Kuala Lumpur…until I heard about Borneo on my way to the bus station and decided that India was looking less and less likely because the primates in the jungles of Borneo were calling.  Malaysia went from a four day jaunt to a 5 week excursion with headhunters, swinging on vines and into trees, making life-long friends, hanging out with National Geographic photographers, discovering the amazing beauty of high tide with the Mangrove trees, discovering my own little slice of heaven in Bako National Park with a 4 hour hike through tangled roots in the jungle, to be dumped onto a secluded beach at the end of the trail bodysurfing in the bath-water-warm South China Sea. Yes, bodysurfing. And y’all KNOW I’m afraid of ocean water.

Solo travel leaves life open for serendipitous meetings. I met Justina, who lives 2 blocks away from my mom in San Francisco, and we said to each other, “Wait. Are you me??” I don’t meet solo female travelers often on my trips, and they’re never Asian. Or American. Or Asian American. I played for days with National Geographic Photographers from Sweden, and with journalists from Finland who put me in their magazine, Mondo. Rie, a local tour guide, arranged for me to stay an extra night and day at the Island-on-Heaven even though all rooms were booked and I had no local currency left to pay for lunch or the room I eventually stayed in. I just had enough for the boat ride back. ….“The Universe conspires to help the dreamer….”My dream in this case was small….I just wanted to stay for as long as I could on Bako. And I did. All I had to do was tell Rie what I really wanted to do. “Don’t worry about what it costs,” he said. “And don’t worry that there are no rooms.  Just give me a Yes or No. One simple word.” When I told him that I wanted to stay, he gave me the keys to the chateau that was reserved for him as a guide on tour for the next days. It turns out that he stayed with the local staff in their dormitory. He bought my lunch and basically told me to go along my merry way. I skipped off to find the bearded pigs w/ National Geographic. On my earlier trip in April, I met Chris, with whom I had planned to trek Nepalese trails. And Alberto with whom I stay with in Kuala Lumpur. I met English girls with whom I traveled for a few days and stayed up with all night until 7am, sharing 3 pitchers of Tiger. As a lone female traveler, I’m alert at all times. Many people want to know where you’re from, what you’re doing, where you’re going, whom you’re with, and where you’re staying. I sometimes lie. When I'm on the bus, I sit near a door, and always on the outside; I have a fear of being cornered. I always know who’s sitting behind me and try to observe whether they’re all friends. I make friends all around the neighborhood, at the hostel/guesthouse, at the Internet cafe, and at restaurants, just in case I’ll need their help later on the trip. The way Rie helped me. As well, it makes them remember me, and if for some reason I don’t show up, many people will know that I’m missing. I’m mentally knocking on wood….

I carry a knife, though I probably will never use it on a person. I carry a whistle. I’m always dressed comfortably in shoes that I can move quickly. I travel light and my bags are always organized so that they’re ready to go with my most important things consolidated. I always look behind me. I don’t go far from my guest house at night if I’m alone. I don’t go to bars at night. I e-mail home often.

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Time of Your Life. Green Day.


Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road/Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go/So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why/It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time/It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right/I hope you had the time of your life/So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind/Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time/Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial/For what it’s worth, its worth all the while.

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Forget India…I’m going to the ‘Unga-Bunga’ for some people soup.

I’m finally in Kuala Lumpur. Alberto & Pauline took me in and graciously allowed me to use their high-rise apartment as homebase with threats to detain me as their personal American Hostage. Seems everyone wants one of their own these days….

I met Alberto earlier this year in Burma and we remained friends. He’s very well versed in the ways and politics of Burma and wears longyis too….naturally, we would get along. One of the benefits of travel - solo travel included - are that you make so many friends from different parts of the world. You handpick your company, hang out as much or as little as you like. Aside from kismet shining on the both of you, your interest in This Other Place brought you together.

And by the way, I’m not going to India anymore…..I need to break it to Chris somehow.
I met a man on the bus who told me all about a place called BORNEO.

Ok. Two more words…
Iban
Kinabalu.

The car came to pick me up to drop me off at the bus station enroute KL, Malaysia. There was an Asian man in the car - Malaysian - and we chatted about our travels, etc. He got to talking about spending time in the jungles with a tribe of headhunters called the Iban. I’ve never heard of the Iban, and Borneo has always seemed to be a make-believe place of bad 50’s movies with cries of tribal “unga-bunga” and people soup. I turn it over in my head….weigh the pros and cons….think about loose ends and why I should go with the change in the direction of the wind….

and I can’t think of any, except that Chris is on his way over there…..
So Borneo it is…..I’m so excited

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A record of 0-2

We just found out that there is a 4 day turnaround for a visa to India…I need to get out of BKK. Already been here for 4 days.

Next stop for me…Malaysia…I think. Chris will hang out at the beaches here. I drop off my visa application and hang out with Alberto and his girlfriend for while I wait in Kuala Lumpur. The bus ride will be bad…(about 30 hours, I think), but it should be okay.
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“Not all that glitters is gold; not all who wander are lost”

–J.R.R Tolkien

LP Thorntree style…

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Any kind of Assault will do

Nepal is out….The Maoists are going wild on Americans. Chris and I make a pretty adventurous team with similar interests and travel styles. We even went so far as to write off the travel advisories as exaggerated, and wrote letters to all of the travel guides listed in LP. They all wrote back, basically saying that it isn’t safe…particularly for Americans.  We should probably just go anyway…. 

But…with that said, we’re opting for India. LP describes it as an, “assault on your senses.” I’m not happy if theres no threat of an assault, so that’s our next pick as neither of us ahs been. We’ll travel together until we get tired of each other, or for 3 weeks…whichever comes first…and then I’m off toward Cambodia. If you’re interested in seeing what I’ll see…look up: “Tuol Sleng prison”, “K 11″, and more generally, the Khmer Rouge era. I’m convinced that you can’t enjoy/appreciate Cambodia (or the rest of Southeast Asia for that matter) without some background on its wartorn history. Even a little knowledge will help to put it into context. Today will be a busy day, booking tickets to Calcutta and getting Visas straightened out……

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