Life in the Sky

It’s safe to say that I was absolutely terrible at keeping a blog while I was traveling. I think the problem stems from keeping a hand-written journal, which I wrote in every day.  With bits and pieces of memorabilia stuffed, taped and glued into each ink ridden page, the worn brown leather nearly unable to contain the hundreds of pages scribbled on through the months, it’s safe to say I had a lot to write about – I just didn’t want to write it twice! But, since I have the next like… 18 hours in the air and lazing around airports, I’ve decided to take bits and pieces from it and sum up my experiences and newfound mind-set as best as possible (you’re welcome, grandma).

Let’s start this daunting entry with a clear picture of where I currently stand – since most of my family and friends expected me to be settled back in Canada, continuing on with my nursing job and possibly planting some roots by August. Well, plans changed. Priorities shifted. Planes were booked.

Which leads me to where I am today. Headphones in, Mac Book out, I’m currently seated in a brightly lit coffee house within China’s Shanghai airport.

It’s August 14^th, 6:30am here, but my body thinks it’s 4:00pm on Tuesday, and the last time I slept was over 20 hours ago due to being in transit since early Monday morning. Or would that be considered Tuesday? Is my math right? My brain capacity is nil to none at the moment. But as I sit here, a freshly made Moline and Kiwi fruit drink in hand, skin warmed from early morning sun beaming through surrounding glass planes, I’m not concerned with my lack of sleep – I know I’ll make it up. I’m not concerned about my next plane transfer in Beijing. I’m not uncomfortable with the fact that the waitress and I have no idea what each other are saying – I’ve gotten very good at Asian-English and my made-up version of sign language where I simply mimic drinking or eating in exchange for whatever food or drink she thinks I want. This is the life of a traveler. You’re constantly adapting to time changes, language barriers, and currency, cultural, spiritual and changes in beliefs. You’re used to adjusting your sleep schedule, ways of communication and methods of negotiation. And while some people may see these parts of travel as inconvenient or frustrating, these are the exact things that I fell in love with.

Not only that, but I fell in love with the unknown: not knowing where you’re going or how you’re going to get there. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t necessarily mean this in a literal or irresponsible way. To be a traveler you do need to be incredibly organized, street smart and have a general destination in mind. What I mean is that while you can makes plans to visit somewhere, read up on the town, city, country and plan to get there via train, boat, or plane, you won’t actually know what to expect and what a place is all about until you’ve lived it for yourself.

While traveling, I spared no expense in reading up on all the countries I wanted to visit; temples, pagodas, waterfalls and ruins I wanted to see – blurting out historical facts while tripping along the shoreline of Tanah Lot Temple in Bali, Indonesia: “Did you know this temple is the work of the 15^th century priest, Nirartha, and is one of the seven sea temples around the Balinese coast?!” All while watching hundreds of Balinese royal descendants line up along the temple base before their uphill climb of spiral stone steps leading to the very top of the lone rock wonder. Dark Ocean waves crashing into it’s solid beauty as if each wave were the goddess of the Sea herself thanking the people for each sacrifice they left at the temple base that night. Knowing some historical facts definitely enriches your experience while faced with such overwhelmingly beautiful sights, but it’s the sights itself that blow you away. You can read about interesting places all you want; you can talk to other people and live through their experiences, or feel content with seeing places and sights in the movies, and that’s just fine! But for me, it’s the being there. It’s being able to touch the temple ruins with my own hands; grazing them along their rough, ash-colored surface, knowing that men laid that exact stone thousands of years before I walked the Earth. It’s having my sight blinded by monsoon downfall as I walk through miles of waste-high, lusciously green rice fields – my bare feet sinking into the cool muddy ground beneath me.

Bali, Indonesia 2013

It’s feeling your body lift from the music of Balinese dance performances in the streets of Ubud; or the mix of terror and excitement felt when monkeys are frantically climbing your body in order to grab those bundles of bananas you’re helplessly trying to keep them from reaching. The fact is: I could read all I want about Indonesia, but not one blog, article or travel forum will provide me with the sense of contentment I felt while physically on the land. Without that experience, I would have never felt that overwhelmingly emotional pull when facing Indonesia’s landscape, or the uplifting energy I left with after watching communities work with the bare necessities to create an oasis unparalleled in North America.

On the contrary, traveling can provide you with a startling slap in the face as to how much evil there is in the world, too. You come to really see how some countries, most actually, have seen absolute evil. The Vietnam War, for example, which went on for years and basically for no reason (as most wars do). Or a mere 38 years ago, when Pol Pok came into power in Cambodia, the Khmer Rouge enforced genocide and extreme communism on the country, closing it off to the rest of the world and killing approximately 3 million of it’s own people - aiming for those considered educated. If you owned drinking glasses, you were considered educated, or if you had soft hands. You were stripped naked, blindfolded and brought to camps across the country to be tortured with unimaginable contraptions, or, ruthlessly thrown into trenches full of chemical spray, alive and full of other people. From infants to elderly, natives to the land to foreign travelers, no one was spared during this heartbreaking period. Temples, libraries, museums, banks, all currency was destroyed. As I walked through the Choeung Ek ‘Killing Fields’, and literally saw human remains (bones, clothes…) still re-surfacing from the ground up, I was speechless. Sick to my stomach. At the S.21 Genocide Center in Phenom Penn, I was paralyzed as I stood staring at dried human blood that had pooled under a torture bed for a 16-year-old girl. I can’t even describe the haunting feeling I experienced in seeing these sights first hand.

Portraits of victims brought to the prison. Phenom Penn, Cambodia

As expected after all of that, I found Cambodia more emotionally draining than any other country I visited. My heart broke for those generations lost. You could see the pain in the eyes of the elderly, glazed and cold from what they’ve seen, what they’ve lived through not forty years ago. Faces rid of emotion, worn from poverty and terror. But in the same beat, my heart would burst with admiration for the new generation: buying land, owning businesses, and making education a priority. Though my spirit was crushed after seeing the type of evil brought upon these people, it was lifted once I sat back and realized how far this country has come in the last forty years. Children played freely and innocently; the people smiled and welcomed foreigners into their homes, their hearts and their traditions. There was no sense of bitterness or anger, just a determination to prevail and move forward. After visiting Cambodia, I have a complete grasp on the severity and importance freedom has within a country. I am beyond thankful and proud that I am Canadian; and I have an incredible appreciation for the life that I’ve lived.

Surfing in Bali, Indonesia

Skydiving in Taupo, New Zealand

Halong Bay Cruise, Vietnam

These experiences are what I’ve become addicted to. Touching the wonders of the world, jumping off waterfalls in Laos or exploring its inspiring countryside through tuk-tuks or rickshaws, bike or by foot. Stumbling upon the scariest creatures alive through Thailand’s forests, or lazing the awe-inspiring national beaches along Maya Bay. Swimming with jellies, snorkeling with tropical fish and then taking a break along Monkey Bay. Using longboats as a main method of transportation and being surprised when you reach an island that actually has cars on it. Eating fresh fish caught that afternoon, crab, prawns and delicious Thai meals made by locals with large hearts and small kitchens. That’s what traveling is about, and those are the experiences only gained from going out there and taking risks.

With that, I’ve decided to go out and take another risk: I’ve moved to Sydney, Australia! I’ll explore the down under and rather than wonder what it would be like, I’m going to live it for myself and I’m going to do it with the uplifting spirit and sense of adventure that backpacking has instilled upon me. I’ve never felt more content with where I am in my entire life. I’ve never been happier or felt lighter. I’m grateful for all the supportive family and friends I have in my life, and the opportunities that I’ve been given that have got me to this moment. Now, off to laze the beaches of Manly!

Looking over North Head, Manly in Sydney yesterday