Lovely globe trotting ladies...Oh My!

Paris skyline at night

It's funny how people perceive and prioritize things when traveling. For some, a posh hotel with fancy fittings in the bathroom and a suited concierge is non-negotiable and for others a good meal in good company with a few cheap drinks is living it up. Personally, I had the best time in Paris because I got to spend two days with a lovely friend of mine. While we had a blast seeing some of the sites, I think we could have had just as much fun going to a yarn museum or walking around non-famous parts of the city. I'll have some reflections on Paris at a later time but that will take a bit of research to put everything I experienced in the wider context.

Warschauer strasse at night

So far Berlin has been great. I made friends with a super cool Estonian girl on my walking tour of street art. Despite some challenges in coordinating without a phone, we managed to meet back up and walk to this really nifty place full of bars, a skatepark and even a massive climbing gym. We had a few cheap beers and enjoyed the lovely swing music while discussing all manner of topics. Dare I say, I doubt it will be the last time we cross paths.

A lovely piece by Alice (2013?) 

From my perspective, it's all about who you meet and making connections with people. It seems to be, the more I travel, the more I find independent, adventurous inquisitive ladies that are wandering the world for enlightenment and excitement. Oddly enough, I hear the same story constantly from them. People are forever surprised to meet solo female travelers. Yes, it is the 21st century. Yes, all of these women I've met so far are from developed countries where women play basically equal roles in societies. And yes, these are almost all educated, motivated ladies doing their own thing back home...So why the surprise? How long is it going to take for global cultures to recognise the solo female traveler as a "normal" and important part of the travelers' community?

Sweat it out / Shiver it up: Emotional Thermoregulation in a Life of Extremes

Moments of clarity always seem to come with a perspective shift. This is nothing new. There's something therapeutic to constantly messing up my body clock and traipsing through old haunts while forging new memories. And new memories are certainly in order.

This trip back to my place of origin is covered in reminders of the brevity and fragility of life. It's interesting to see how the individual characters perceive and react to these realisations. Ultimately, I guess we all just scramble harder to be our 'real' selves. Sometimes for better, sometimes....well I don't really know.

Presently, I'm camped out on the 7th floor of an office building in the Chelsea district of Manhattan NYC. My makeshift hotel room is an unused office of my high school best friend's current workplace. You can never predict these things. They just happen. I have no idea what I'll get into tomorrow but I'm sure it will be at least decently random (and very cold).

Pardon my lack of organizational strategy but really you can blame that ugly monster the 'time crunch' (and my incessant need for sleep on a dailyish basis). What follows is random tidbits from my journal that I've had with me these past two weeks as I've hopped a few time zones, reconnected with old friends, made some new ones and been forced to do things like "relax".

Dec 3rd on the plane to take off:

Funny how the excitement of airports is tinged with an odd sense of familiarity by this point. For the first time since I lived in GA, I actually feel like I'm a visitor to these destinations ahead. I have a place to call home. A place I'm excited to go back to, people who will miss me but know I'm coming back. That's a new feeling for me.

On staying in a resort (for free) in Fiji for 2 days and 1 night:

It's very peculiar for me to stay in a large, posh, corporate hotel/resort. While the comforts and amenities are enjoyable, I can't shake the obvious sense of distance between myself as a guest and the people I will be interacting with over these two days. I wonder what it's like where they live. What do they think of this place? Do they like their bosses? What must they think of the tourists? What do they do when they get a holiday? How do they stand listening to these horrible Christmas songs for a month straight, especially while it's 32 degrees Celsius and 95% humidity?!

Artwork by Krystal Campbell 

This hotel complex is an odd slice of life. Obviously trying hard to strive for the cookie cutter corporate ideal, leveraging the "bulla smile" and typical tropical trappings to their fullest extent. Yet, the mushrooms, birds, toads and geckos all proudly remind me of the underlying untamed sense of this place. The afternoon storms don't care if you're only in for one day or you've lived here your whole life. The cheesy Christmas music on repeat adds an extra layer of touristiness to the experience. And yes, the birds will stare you down in an attempt to intimidate you out of your breakfast. This is their house and yes they like pancakes. Give them some pancakes or they will poop in your cereal!

For now, that's all I got.

(My pictures to be added later once I can download them)

Far From the Middle of Everything: Stars, Stories, and Sun for Days

Toto, I don't think we're in Melbourne anymore! Stepping off the plane in Alice Springs the sun was out in full force and the air, warm and welcoming. This is exactly the week I need. Not exactly a holiday but not exactly work either. Inspiration and illumination a plenty.

I'd describe Alice Springs as a big outback town with all the charm and ambience of 'the bush' yet with this odd, contrived tourist overlay on it. Shops close early, the pubs start to fill in around 3:30pm and everything just moves slower than back home. It works.

Our party was a youthful mob of friendly postgrads, mingling well with the handful of various other young travellers with which we shared our tour. The first day in Alice was relaxing and informative thanks to a rousing trip to the Reptile Centre complete with proper outback bloke Rex promptly opening up the glass and taking out the Western brown snake within minutes of our arrival. I'm pretty sure my colleagues came in just a few minutes after he explained how freak'n deadly this thing's bite is (fatal in 30 minutes without treatment). To say the least, I was impressed. This was what I have been missing! His presentation was amusing yet informative and really drove home the reality that Australian snakes are quite easy to avoid incident with, armed with a few simple tricks. Don't walk in tall grass with exposed legs and feet. Be aware of your surroundings and if you see a snake simply back away from it calmly. There, life safe. Too easy.

Out there, it's the dryness that will get you first. It was pretty much the most perfect weather you could ask for but there is always the constant need to keep hydrating when in the desert. Despite my best efforts, I did manage to get a little dehydration sickness towards the end of one day.

I should point out that this was my first, and probably only, purchased packaged tour. All the plans sorted, all the adventure minimised. Don't let that fool you, adventure is a place of mind. It starts with turning off your phone, running out of money, and forgoing your typical caution. This trip really only had the luxury of one of those things. The trip was centred on that magical, misunderstood monolith that serves as the only non-manmade icon of this distant and sometimes forgotten land. Sad to say but I was just looking forward to getting out of the city for a few days, away from the impaired landscapes and short sighted perspectives. Sometimes you need to get out far enough to see a real horizon line, broad reaching and deeply cleansing.

It wasn't all smooth sailing. There was one little burst of excitement when the bus decided to refuse to start. After it was established that the starter did not appear to be operational, our guide decided it only made sense to try one thing before calling for help. So about six of us got behind the trailer attached to our bus and gave it a nice hard push. Sure enough, it started up! Luckily, that seemed to be the only time it decided to play up. It's funny how perspective is everything, not a single person complained or expressed negativity through the whole event. It really was the almost ideal tour group.

The afternoon at 'the Rock' was an emotional day for me. I can't really explain why. Here is a place that some of the oldest civilisations on earth have used as a focal point of congregation to teach, learn, and grow as communities. Ancient riverbeds glued together by time and energy then cracked apart slowly to present the features now reduced to a postcard snapshot. This place is so much more than that. The scientists and stewards of this harsh land sure know that. These ponderings interest and excite my mind to not end. Land, country, community; these are all intertwined components of the intricate way of life out here. Shouldn't that be the same everywhere? Uluru and Kata-Tjuta stand as icons of the power of the centre and the story being told here is one of collective consciousness as well as deeply complex laws. A few days was a good introduction but it was exactly that.

This trip only served to further solidify my desire to see the rest of this diverse and unique country. At this point, I can't say when but in the coming months to years I have to pack up a vehicle and traverse the far flung and magical corners of Oz. I want to make another chapter in the story of my life, a sort of outback ode to Alexander Supertramp....minus the tragic ending. Maybe I'll figure out a few more things and get a bit stronger. Maybe I'll just get a sun burn, who knows.

Ride the Wave or Get Pulled Under

A quick little location sketch of where I was this time last week:

The warm brown sugar sand is perfectly formed into a little bench to rest on. It extends out to sea foam carpets inviting in those who dare. Past the invitation of the shallows, quick sets of aqua curls are speckled with little black figures. They wait for the right moment to paddle hard and drop into thousands of kilometers of pent-up energy. On top of the wave is intense therapy, underneath unforgiving harshness. Either way, every challenge an opportunity to grown, learn, forgive, and do it all over again. The waves mean no harm nor do they know the power they share with us. Its just a simple reaction to universal forces. All we are doing is make the most of it.

Tummy Tickles for a Cause, One Special Little Girl's Innadvertent Mission

There's no way to really know if a solo little female platypus was scared when she was washed away from her home and nearly drowned just over 2 years ago but she definately had no idea that she was about to be one special little orphaned girl. She was found by some people and brought to Healsville Wildlife Sanctuary to be rehabilitated. Part of rehabilitating animals is play and social contact. This particular little platypus was very keen on her people time, much more so than most of the other animals that call this place home. Like so many wonderful new experiences, this one little platypus named Yami birthed the opportunity for people to have a one-on-one hands on understanding of these bizarre and uniquely Australian creatures.

Added to the serendipedous nature of this morning of sheer joy and excitement, I came to enjoy Yami's special charm as a result of my mother finding a small link on the Sanctuary website and gifting me the chance to do it for my birthday a few months ago. Here are a species that while alive and well, are illusive and secretive even to the locals and my mother found a way for me to pet, tickle, laugh, & splash with one from the other side of the world!

It is quite easy to see why original British naturalists thought this animal was a hoax and even the local Wurundjeri stories know Dulaiwurrong as the result of an unholy union between a water rat and wood duck to be hidden away in shame. But lets not forget the Aussie spirit of supporting the underdog or misunderstood little monotreme in this case! I challenge anyone who spends time with Yami not to leave with a huge smile and strong understanding of why we must support proper use of these limited freshwater resources.

Click for Video

So what's a platypus feel like? If Yami is the norm, the overarching feeling is of softness. She darts around the little waist deep pool with swiftness and curiousity looking for food and cuddles. Yes, you read that, cuddles. Now I know what you're thinking "That's in your head. No way she asks for belly rubs like an aquatic egg laying puppy dog"  but there is no way to misread this behavior. The visitors don't feed her, the only motivation is entirely her own. The first part she most likely greets you with is her bill, soft, gummy, and her primary tool. She polks, prods, and even nibbles your hands, arms, and maybe even your neck if you're lucky enough to find her scaling you quite agilely (until she slides down your back). It doesn't feel like a bird bill and is a good bit softer than I was expecting. Her fur texture varies between her head, back, tail, and belly. The belly being the second softest part of her. When she wants belly rubs she swims up to you, spirals around and holds out her tummy as close to your hand as she can. As it turns out, platypuses also have a sweet spot on their bellies that trigger a back foot twitch when stimulated. Kittens and pandas watch out, you have competition for darned cute moments. I'm doing my best to relate the experience here but it doesn't begin to do it justice. If you possibly can, you just need to experience this yourself.

While its never ideal to take a wild animal out of their home area, this is one of those resounding success stories. Little outgoing Yami has appeared to have volunteered to spread the message of her species and all they rely on, healthy, naturally flowing waterways, the need to stop and look deeper, and above all a reminder that rules are made to be broken and enjoyed whether you're an egg laying mammal with an outgoing personality or just another person spending a day at the zoo.




For further information:
http://www.zoo.org.au/healesville/wild-encounters/wade-with-the-platypus

Home is Where Your Heart Beats Best

As of late, I've been further pondering the meaning, purpose, place and work involved with this concept of 'home'. Being an alien in a land that you love like an old friend, it grates on me to constantly have to justify and explain my existence here. "Where are you from?", a constantly fielded question. And I know nobody means any harm by it but it is not a simple answer for me. I come from a place that does not physically exist anymore, as really we all do. The exact geographical location of my early years can be pinned down to the greater DC area but it was really despite the culture I came to consciousness in not because of it that I am the way I am. Why don't we define ourselves by the place we choose to be presently, rather than the place we just happen to come from?

So what is home? Home is where you choose to be, wherever accepts you for all of you, where life is just challenging enough to afford you opportunities to grow but provide enough comfort to catch you when you fall. Sometimes the exploratory process can be scary but by looking, listening, and thinking "What is life really like here?" everyone can truly connect with the world. Home might be the place of your childhood, or somewhere vastly different. How can you know unless you truly think about it? It is suggested that you 'shop around' for big decisions such as purchasing a car or choosing a mate, why not the community in which you reside and contribute? We cling to similarities sometimes when we should be exploring our fantastic differences. How do you learn and grow by only asking questions which you already know the answer to? The best way to learn your way around is to take time to get lost for a little while, say "Yes!" to the unknown, look down a few dark alleys every now and then. The only barriers that exist are those we buy into. I think we should make the time in life to apply this concept to our definition of home. The world is too big and wonderful a place to just settle for what's handed to you.

So to all the past and future probers of the question,"Where is home?"I say, "I am here now! Happily, contently, serenely here now. And for the first time ever in my adult life, I have no plans to go anywhere else anytime soon*." That's why I think I am home.

(*I will keep traveling at every possible opportunity but now I will have a place to be excited to return back to time and again.)

The Charm of the Cham Lands & Triumphs of Minor Medical Emergencies (Vietnam Part II)

So I've been sitting on the stories contained in the latter half of this quick trip to Vietnam I took back in September/October. A lot has happened since then and the triumphs and micro-dramas entwined with these memories seem so incredibly petty, I wonder if they are even worth writing about. But a little voice in the back of my mind, and a number of friends, tell me they are. So here it goes, in no particular order.

Flying into DeNang airport on that sunny Tuesday morning, I knew I was going to have some ignorant American moments but I had no idea how personally it was going to affect me. The airport was fresh and shiny but you couldn't help but notice the vast expanse of abandoned hangers and grown over air strips directly adjacent. As I hopped in a cab with some of my fellow classmates and the vastly knowledgable John Bell, we proceeded to be graced with a local history tour. The vacant air base and miles of half demolished homes studded the landscape in stark contrast with the beachside resorts, villas, golf course, and high rise hotels. It served as a strong visual reminder that what bombs, guns, and nepalm did not accomplish, the promise of a slice of western oppulance did in a big way.

I knew the war museum in DeNang was going to be a somber experience, I was not prepared to feel such a well of emotions as I viewed gruesome photos and artifacts telling tales from beyond the brink of humanity. It made me feel ashamed and angry all at once. Many of the pictures featured dead, or captured U.S. soldiers. These are young men of my parents' generation, sent overseas to die for a cause they likely didn't understand or believe in. There is nothing productive about war. However, as the trip progressed and we met some local tourism entrepreneurs, it became apparent that the positive cultural influence of numerous military presences of this place are now inseparably part of the heritage. The French influenced architecture is one of the draws to little Hoi An, after all. And on a more personal note, I think the crude, simple charm of somewhere like Hoa's Place in China Beach is invigorating and cherish any opportunity to enjoy delicious French pastries, even in a town in Vietnam.

The longest day had to be the one in which we toured all day, broke into an abandoned Cham temple, visited the hauntingly beautiful remains of My Son, and finally I was accidently poisoned by a well-meaning vegan couple. While I wasn't too happy about having to miss presentations and vomiting a fair bit in the charming Buddhist monastery, as well as the side of a busy road on the way back to town, I did not go into anaphylaxis so I consider it a positive outcome. I ate nuts at a temple in Vietnam over an hour away from medical facilities and lived to tell the tale. Maybe Asia isn't as scary as I thought.

Some of my favorite moments were getting lost on the way back to the hotel at night. I was sort of alone but not, so no safety issues. My sense of direction has a whimsical sense of humor, so a few times I found myself in the rice paddies on the edge of town enjoying the concert of frogs and insects that preform most warm evenings despite a pathetic turn out audience-wise. Sometimes the sky would spontaneously open up to a deluge and you'd get to skip home in the soggy tropical streets looking like you just jumped in the pool. On dry nights, you could just jump in the pool for the same effect.

The day after all the fieldwork was completed, I went kayaking on the local river with a classmate, the guy who's wife accidentally poisoned me, and one of the lecturers. It didn't occur to me that I'd be the only girl to join this activity. The 'boat launch' spot was a little family house located on the riverbank, rustic but very inviting and homey. We trudged through knee deep bank mud to get our boats into the river then paddled up river for about an hour and a half. My scrawny, out of shape, nerd arms couldn't really keep up with the other three guys so I enjoyed the solitude and surroundings as I kept pace a few meters behind. Eventually our 'guide' decided to drop back and keep me company. It was lovely conversation so long as we stayed away from the whole vegan issue. Apparently there's a monastery in Hue where I can go to live off rice and spices and meditate my body out of being allergic to foods. While that sounds great to my optimistic idealist side, my practical side is screaming "Bad Idea!!!". Alas, the time and money for such journeys are luxuries I have given up for now. So you win practical side....this time.

After concluding the educational and athletic pursuit that was paddling, we were all invited to join the family (remember this was at a house...oh yes, on a Sunday no less) for a beautiful lunch. This meal featured a variety of fresh catch straight from the river we were sitting atop as well as heaps of local greens wrapped up in spring rolls. Then there was a 'rice wine' served out of a repurposed Johnny Walker bottle. Grandpa and Uncle were fond of the hooch and keen to share. They found it highly amusing that I was infrequent to refuse the next shot....and there were many. These were clear spirits to singe your throat and cleanse your memory. It did just that. Despite massive language barriers, the feast and festivities continued for a few hours..so I'm told. But for me it was more of a cut to next scene situation. That next scene being one of my other classmates coming to check on me and make sure I didn't miss my train to Ho Chi Min. It was perfect timing, I made the train and slowly one of the worst hangovers of my life set in on a hot, smelly, crowded train ride lasting just over 17 hours. I had some fun on this journey, playing with the kids sharing my sleeping car and making friends with a few locals on the train that could speak some English.

Most of the rest of the trip was fairly uneventful but enjoyable. I look forward to time and resources in the future to properly experience this corner of the world. Thank you to all who made this brief adventure fun, mostly safe, and highly educational.