I thought it would be fun to collect some data on my travels and post them here after all is said and done. I'll put more up as it gets sorted, but to start with...
Length of trip: 322 days
Countries visited: Australia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, India, Germany, Poland, Czech Republic, Austria, Canada
Local homes stayed in: 14
Favorite meals: meat pie (Australia), chicken fried rice (Thailand and Laos), krustenbraten (Germany), drie im veckla (Nurnberg specialty), pyzy (Poland), poutine (Quebec)
Strangest meals: rat meat soup, pig intestine soup
Spiciest meal: papaya salad that the mahouts were eating...that stuff is lethal!
Number of sicknesses: 3 (including the one where I broke my 15 year no-puke streak, damnit!)
Longest stint without a hot shower: two and a half months
Clothes discarded: 4 shirts, 2 beanies, 3 pairs of shorts, 1 sweatshirt, and two pairs of shoes
Planes: 14 (27 hours, 20 minutes)
Trains: 77 (50 hours, 2 minutes)
Busses: 74 (92 hours, 44 minutes)
Number of hostels/guesthouses: 43
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The End of the Beginning
Well, I made it! After 322 days, 10 countries, and more experiences that I know how to categorize, I have returned to Santa Barbara where it all began last September. Last night I visited with Rickey, a family friend of long-standing notoriety, and she had this to say about returning from foreign travel: "You won't know for a long time just what you learned. It'll come back to you at random times, when you see something or smell something or hear something that makes you think, 'That reminds me of...'". She's a woman of great wisdom and insight, so I'm more than happy to hear from her that there's no rush for me to digest this trip. That being said, it feels appropriate to talk about what it's like being back where I started, and addressing the "What now?" question.
Santa Barbara is amazing. It wouldn't surprise me if a whole lot of people saw fit to call this place heaven on Earth. Sandwiched between speckled gold chapparal mountains and the surging blue Santa Barbara Channel, the city couldn't be situated any better. The vibrant downtown area is made up of brilliant white plastered buildings with red-tiled roofs, a tribute to its rich Spanish history. And then there's the weather! The most common complaint I've heard over the years is that it's too often too sunny. Seriously, by the end of summer people are clamoring over how many days in a row have been nearly identical: cool fog in the morning, bright and sunny all day (with temperatures ranging from, say, 25-35 degrees Celsius), then cool and clear at night. Repeat week after week. So yeah, Santa Barbara is wonderful, and a whole lot of people go out of their way to make a point of coming here. It therefore comes as something of a surprise to me that I want to leave.
I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have grown up here, but it's just not the place for me anymore. Coming back is sort of like digging out an old pair of shoes from the back of the closet and pulling them on again. They're well broken in, but there was a reason they got put in the back: the fits not right. In the same sense, I've covered a lot of ground and time in Santa Barbara, but there was a reason I left. The first time was to university in northern California, the second time was to Australia in 2003 as an exchange student, and the third time...well that's what's been chronicled in this website over the last 11 months.
I had an epiphany of sorts while stacking firewood at my father's house just last week. Each piece of split wood can go in any of a number of different places, and fit well enough. However, it always seems to me that, if you take the time to look, there's always a spot where the piece fits almost perfectly. It's almost like it was made for that one particular spot, even though there are countless other places that work well enough. Maybe it's the same for people. Maybe all the places I've lived - Santa Barbara, Arcata, Eureka, Frelighsburg, Geelong, Cairns - are all places where I fit well enough, but not perfectly. I mean, I've had it pretty good everywhere I've been. I've never gone to bed hungry, never felt afraid to go out my door, and never had to worry about being safe inside of it. Nevertheless, I've always felt like there was somewhere better for me. The closest I think I ever came to really feeling at home was in Australia. But who knows? Maybe there's an even better place for me. Wherever it is, and whatever it takes to get there, I intend to keep looking. The vast majority of people in the world aren't afforded the luxury of choice in either lifestyle or location. While I once considered it to be an act of greed and selfishness to want more when so many have less than I do, I now feel like it would be foolish not to take advantage of the opportunities available to me. This journal doesn't mark the end of the journey, but rather the end of the beginning. The path from here is not clearly marked and I don't expect expect it to be straight, but I am confident that in the end I'll find the perfect place to fit in.
Santa Barbara is amazing. It wouldn't surprise me if a whole lot of people saw fit to call this place heaven on Earth. Sandwiched between speckled gold chapparal mountains and the surging blue Santa Barbara Channel, the city couldn't be situated any better. The vibrant downtown area is made up of brilliant white plastered buildings with red-tiled roofs, a tribute to its rich Spanish history. And then there's the weather! The most common complaint I've heard over the years is that it's too often too sunny. Seriously, by the end of summer people are clamoring over how many days in a row have been nearly identical: cool fog in the morning, bright and sunny all day (with temperatures ranging from, say, 25-35 degrees Celsius), then cool and clear at night. Repeat week after week. So yeah, Santa Barbara is wonderful, and a whole lot of people go out of their way to make a point of coming here. It therefore comes as something of a surprise to me that I want to leave.
I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have grown up here, but it's just not the place for me anymore. Coming back is sort of like digging out an old pair of shoes from the back of the closet and pulling them on again. They're well broken in, but there was a reason they got put in the back: the fits not right. In the same sense, I've covered a lot of ground and time in Santa Barbara, but there was a reason I left. The first time was to university in northern California, the second time was to Australia in 2003 as an exchange student, and the third time...well that's what's been chronicled in this website over the last 11 months.
I had an epiphany of sorts while stacking firewood at my father's house just last week. Each piece of split wood can go in any of a number of different places, and fit well enough. However, it always seems to me that, if you take the time to look, there's always a spot where the piece fits almost perfectly. It's almost like it was made for that one particular spot, even though there are countless other places that work well enough. Maybe it's the same for people. Maybe all the places I've lived - Santa Barbara, Arcata, Eureka, Frelighsburg, Geelong, Cairns - are all places where I fit well enough, but not perfectly. I mean, I've had it pretty good everywhere I've been. I've never gone to bed hungry, never felt afraid to go out my door, and never had to worry about being safe inside of it. Nevertheless, I've always felt like there was somewhere better for me. The closest I think I ever came to really feeling at home was in Australia. But who knows? Maybe there's an even better place for me. Wherever it is, and whatever it takes to get there, I intend to keep looking. The vast majority of people in the world aren't afforded the luxury of choice in either lifestyle or location. While I once considered it to be an act of greed and selfishness to want more when so many have less than I do, I now feel like it would be foolish not to take advantage of the opportunities available to me. This journal doesn't mark the end of the journey, but rather the end of the beginning. The path from here is not clearly marked and I don't expect expect it to be straight, but I am confident that in the end I'll find the perfect place to fit in.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Home, and Yet Not
It is hard to explain what it's like for me to be back here at Dad's house for this long. Every year between the ages of 6 and 18 saw me spending an average of two months here, but the memories of important events that took place here are disproportionate to the amount of time I was actually out here at this secluded old cabin in the woods. It was here that I was shown how to stack lumber, blow my nose, and make a perfect grilled cheese sandwich (shingle it with pickles!). I discovered the wonderfully twisted writings of Dean Koontz, and learned the difference between work and workmanship. More than one tooth fell out here, and one (which I had planned to keep) was knocked clean out of my head in a moment of rough-and-tumble with my brothers. Together, with my dad (and often one or both older brothers)we worked on countless projects which, even today, are a source of pride for me. There was the time we reshingled the roof in what felt like the hottest days of my young life. We built (and rebuilt) at least three docks to the pond, including one on which I learned that, no, it's not okay to pound in a crooked nail! We extended the living room, installed skylights, and dug drainage ditches. Then there was the summer we rescued an abandoned baby raccon. He was the first animal I remember loving, and the day we set him free was also the first time I felt my little heart break.
I've grown up a lot out here in the woods. I have also grown up a lot on this trip around the world. It seems most fitting that, as I approach the end of this adventure, I wind up back where I once was. I'm enjoying the opportunity to make wonderful new memories (including those with 10-year old Ulysse), but sometimes it's worth it to turn around and look at where I've been. I'm so grateful for so many great experiences I've had in my life, but now, just while I'm here, I'm enjoying the chance to sit back and relive a few of them.
I've grown up a lot out here in the woods. I have also grown up a lot on this trip around the world. It seems most fitting that, as I approach the end of this adventure, I wind up back where I once was. I'm enjoying the opportunity to make wonderful new memories (including those with 10-year old Ulysse), but sometimes it's worth it to turn around and look at where I've been. I'm so grateful for so many great experiences I've had in my life, but now, just while I'm here, I'm enjoying the chance to sit back and relive a few of them.
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