Travelbug, I love it when you bite.

Written on April 22nd:

Henry Miller once said, "One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things" 

As I sit on my 16 hour train ride from Shanghai to Xi'An, (that's right, two normal 9to5s sitting in a six person booth with every seat taken - thank goodness Chinese people are tiny.) I look around at the multiple faces and try to give each a story. It's not hard. I people watch every chance I get. I mean, who hasn't sat idly in their local Starbucks, looked around and judged the nearest onlooker by look, action, dress, and image? I can tell who pays attention to designer wear, who goes religiously to the gym, who needs a friend or two for fashion intervention, and even who goes to the dentist. (Please, for goodness sake, go to the dentist.) But when a traveler ventures outside of one's own comfort zone, there is so much more to consider. For instance, this train takes me 16 hours west of Shanghai, the "Paris of the East," the most westernized of all Chinese cities. The man who ate ramen two feet in front of me and whose food I was jealously eyeing - where is he from? What about this girl with the god awful haircut and Mickey Mouse tee? And what made these two girls who eat like E and I decide three inch heels would be perfect for a 16 hour train ride? 

Due to the language barrier (I know maybe five phrases in Mandarin: "hello," "thank you," "bathroom," "I love you," and "turn left.") I don't think I'll ever know, but it's something I would like to find out. Everyone has a story, whether it's the fur-clad upper east sider with her Louis Vuitton purse and matching dog bag complete with a cute shihtzu, or the toothless Chinese man venturing west of the Huang Pu with nothing more than a jacket and a plastic bag of food. Cultural assimilation is often taken for granted in the United States, so much so that many cultures become highly integrated into one another. Some of my friends have no clue what kimchi is, let alone what country it serves as a staple, and that is not of their own fault. In fact, I would not necessarily consider it a wrong-doing, but rather, a successful acclimation of one culture into the other - just another ingredient in the recipe of what it means to be American. 

It is, however, a personal passion of mine to venture out of my immediate surroundings (NYC and NJ - who would EVER want to get out of there?!) and see the world in more simplified environments, where I am exposed thoroughly to a culture and despite my very obvious foreign disposition, experience what locals experience - see what they see and do what they do. Throughout my small, yet somewhat accomplished, list of destinations under my belt, I give to you a short list of Dos and Do Nots. All from personal experience, take these highly into consideration should you ever decide an adventure outside of your own environment is necessary. 

1. Never, and I mean NEVER, leave your glass of champagne unattended during an all-you-can-drink champagne event in a hostel in Melbourne, Australia, especially around men in business suits. Chances are, you'll end up roofied before your 7pm dinner. And WHAT were businessmen doing in a youth hostel to begin with, anyway??

2. Do not eat a plate of pad thai after it has been sitting out in the June afternoon sun during a three-day trek in Chiang Mai, Thailand. You do not know how long it has been out waiting for you. And even should you make it to the hostel, you will most likely still end up in the hospital - without knowledge of the language nor the pad thai in your stomach. Food poisoning sucks in a foreign country. Like, legit.

3. DO drive up the east coast of Australia in a caravan with three friends. But do not forget your eyeglasses, especially when you need them to drive at night, and your Asian descent has made it difficult to drive on the right side of the road, let alone the left (around winding cliffs and wild kangaroos). Moreover, make sure someone else knows how to drive manual/stick in case the aforementioned occurs. Screw the fact that she happens to be from England and does not have her driver's license.

4. Even if a studly British boy from the UK with his darling English accent tells you he "fancies" you while backpacking in New Zealand, do NOT be surprised if his girlfriend is on the other side of the sofa... Oh wait, yep. There she is. And there she blows...

5. DO change and schedule your flight plans from Auckland, New Zealand to Nadi, Fiji around a huge event like...oh say... the seventh book of the Harry Potter series. If you plan it just right, you'll be the first in line when it comes out. Besides, PERFECT beach reading for Fiji!

6. If it is your last day in Cairns, Australia, and you have nothing else planned, do jump off a 200 ft cliff with nothing else but a rope tied around your feet. I mean... what else were you going to do?

7. Do NOT be upset if you can only jump off a plane from 13,000 ft rather than 15,000 in Fox Glacier, New Zealand. If under the right circumstances, (say... sunrise, over a glacier, the Pacific Ocean to your right, a mountain range to your left, the largest lake in the country right under you) 2,000 feet is no biggie. But, DO wear two pairs of socks and thank me later.

8. Even if the horses look a little skinny, the tour guides are 11 year old boys, and the country side through which they are leading you seem sketch, do trust and have faith in Dominican Republic horse-riding tours. You will probably end up holding snakes against your body and swimming in candle-lit caves that only the locals know about.

9. Do not wear a skirt if you plan on getting in a gondola in Venice, Italy. In hindsight, you'll realize that was a really dumb decision. Just saying...

10. If you've got friends/family anywhere, whether in Vienna, Munich, Melbourne, Tokyo, Shanghai, or even Des Moines, which is a different world in and of itself, do exploit them for all their worth and pay a visit. There is no better way to get a beer, eat fried ho-hos, or go running in corn fields than with someone who's already seen it all.

Whether you're dancing in the virgin white beaches of Whitehaven Beach on the Whitsundays, picking up snails in the rice patties of Thailand to do your part in cleaning up, watching the impending rain as it rushes toward your sailboat named "Spank Me," or literally hanging from a rope, propelling a freezing waterfall 60 meters from the ground, stop and think about the moment. I've never felt more alive than when I breathed in a sigh of relief after really acknowledging the grand scale of life and the pure insignificance of my role. As Shakespeare once said, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." I can't be positive of the right steps to win, but travel is a surefire way of learning the rules.

Darling, I Want You to Listen...

So Rather Than Hold On To a Broken Dream...

I'll just hold onto love.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Too many people are jaded on this holiday. I looked back on some of my poetry on a happier (read: more naïve) time of my life and encountered this sweet but short little piece of work inspired by a good, good person. If you are in love, I hope this sums it up. If you aren't... call me a hopeless romantic, but maybe this is something we, in our jaded-i-can't-believe-how-much-love-blows mentalities, can look forward to. So. Sit back, slip into my 19 year old naïveté, and let your heart do the rest... :-\

"Mission Impossible"  

She sealed love deep in the abyss of a vulnerable heart,

Keeping burden and pain’s power from it. 

He took his time and pulled the delicate pieces apart. 

Until he found the core to her emotional summit. 

He broke her will with the touch of his hand. 

He kept her calm during points of unease. 

Pursuing her love, he bowed at command 

And loved her, yes he loved her, without cease. 

Each brick she laid down slid at the slightest touch 

Each gate she, herself, closed unlocked 

Armed with nothing but words and such, 

He discovered the key to all she had blocked. 

To swim the rough current in the oceans of her soul 

Is no easy feat to bear as one. 

Yet he did not drown, never lost control.

Now look upon the deeds he has done.

Her heart is unafraid, her mind now at rest 

The walls she has built, now at ruin 

Insecure thoughts, she has learned to detest- 

A simple result of his doing. 

A mission so impossible, she dared no man to try 

For fear that the iron may grow rust 

But at his will, he left her spirits so high 

And at long last, she has learned to trust.

And Happy Birthday to my daddy, Valentino Reyes!

Confidence is beautiful.

Inspired by a few of my closest friends, a number of not-to-be-named blonde celebutante media whores, and none other than the internal struggle every self-conscious (read: insecure) human being faces almost daily, I will try to conquer with but a few paragraphs the constant struggle of self-confidence. Where does one find it? Is it easy to obtain? What makes it easy to spot in some people and harder to find in others? 

More and more, despite this never-ending thing called time (it just never stops!), I find that the cycle of high school rears its ugly head so often that I must force myself to step back, take a deep breath, and remind myself that I am no longer in 5th period lunch, surrounded by cliques of the in-crowd, the not so in-crowd, and the majority group of any high school: the apathetic. Consequently, nostalgia takes over, and I'm reminded of a time when I was in no means secure of myself, seldom took risks because the idea simply frightened me, and looked to those around me to sway my decisions one way or the other, if only to affirm that I not make a fool of myself and be the laughingstock of 2300 peers. Fortunately, I found a way out of that mentality by Junior year (maybe even that is a stretch), but interestingly enough, once you implore a certain way of thinking during such formative years, it never completely vanishes.

Beginning in college, I began to hear comments that scared the shit out of me. Essentially, people started to call me "confident," believing I (formerly one of two Asian girls in a class of 600 who was chosen by her classmates so early on as the "smart one" that she became even self-conscious about her own intelligence, amongst a plethora of other insecurities) had an aura of security blanketing my sweet melon of a head. The conversation would go something like the following:

Crazy person: "Geia, I just wish I could be like you."

Me: "Why on Earth would you want that?!"

Crazy person: "I just feel like you're very confident, and nothing stops you from going after what you want."

Me: something to the extent of "You're crazy."

Insanity. Moreover, this crazy person was not alone. There were plenty of them! On the one hand... 1. Flip hair, 2. Giggle to self. 3. Simultaneously shrug, smile, and say, "Thanks." (Right??) On the other hand, omgosh! I actually fooled them! Somewhere in the midst of my journey through the weary desert of insecurity lay a happy mirage of confidence to which my eyes were blind, but others could identify perfectly well.

I became obsessed with self-awareness. Good, bad, pretty, ugly, I absorbed it all. My ninth life was almost up when finally, one fateful afternoon, my curiosity was satisfied. The realization was no strike of lightning, nor was it a "Eureka!" moment of any sort. I suppose I knew it all along, simply because of my implacable thirst for self-knowledge, a need that I believe all normal individuals must have as well. {If not, forget I ever posted this blog.} My self-awareness became my self-confidence. The secret is not about finding things that make you feel better about yourself; it is about accepting yourself, stripped of what society claims are agreeable traits one should strive for, and being okay with it anyway. Perfection doesn't exist, but I do. And dammitalltohell if I don't live up the life with which I've been blessed.

I can't very well sit here and claim no insecurities. Everyone must battle their own demons, and the past has scarred me more than I would like. But, with all due respect, to any and everyone who cares enough to read my stream of consciousness, is it really all worth it? Does beating oneself up with thoughts of unworthiness make anyone feel better? Does wallowing in self-pity bring about any change? Does the thought of everyone else pitying you make you feel warm and giddy inside? ...I didn't think so. 

Essentially, my awareness and acceptance of all my faults have allowed me to become more open to imperfection. At the end of the day, I know my faults, my strengths, weaknesses, and I know that I am doing my best to turn those weaknesses around. We are the judge of our own happiness; deny the very idea of "imperfect" and you deny the most vital factor of self-contentment.

Today, despite the evil reminders of high school and a time when I was plagued with self-doubt and uncertainty, I stand proudly on my oasis, no longer a mirage. With Heidi Montag (post-surgery) at my side... haha. just kidding. 

selfish

two things in the course of life are natural: laziness and selfishness. i live my day to day in a constant cycle of self-conflicts, with the angel on my right shoulder expecting more from me, demanding only the best after having granted me the wisdom to make the right choices in often complicated situations. not so far away stands another figure, feisty with a red miniskirt and pitchfork, providing me with a multitude of wonderful rebuttals and contradictions to her sweet counterpart. in the end, who wins out? and if to be lazy and selfish are natural, then are our wrongdoings forgivable?

laziness is pretty boring. let's not talk about it. if you want it done, do it yourself. done and done.

but selfishness... that's a whole 'nother ballgame - not all bad, but arguably more bad than good. i am a strong proponent of independent thinking, of following dreams, listening to your heart, and all that jazz. may god bless the trailblazer who creates his own path and dismisses nonbelievers, not out of spite, but out of determination to do what is best for him. oftentimes, however, people lose sight of any good intention and hurt others in the process of their own individual progression. how often do we compare our lives to one another? how often do we look at our friends, cursing them for their successes, and wishing that their fortunes fell on us instead? how often, and how much more often, have we made mistakes, tiny or immense, because our desire overcame our conscience? ... and then how many times have we made the vow to never make the same mistake again, only to disappoint ourselves days, weeks, even years later?

the excuse, "i'm only human" can only be used so often. yes, you are human (congrats, btw, on that profound discovery), but no, that is not an acceptable form of allowance to do as you wish without suffering the consequences. too often, people forget the general rule of life (it's easy as this: if you do something stupid, don't do it again.) and subject themselves to the simple evils of self-centered volition.

i'd like to write about personal experiences, but i feel that this would be a terrible ground for such... instead, i choose to write about other people. (for purely selfish reasons, ironically) YIPPEE! i have decided three will suffice for tonight.

the CPT offender

- never arrives on time

- thinks the world revolves around her/him

- sometimes not trustworthy because his CPT (color-peopled time) habit has evolved into a general tendency to slack off

the emotional drainer

- usually a charmer

- uses and abuses

- does not understand the emotional consequences he/she leaves with said used and abused

the "everything is about me" syndrome

- "oh, you have a new laptop? well, my daddy has a yacht"

- handed everything on a silver platter, but still able to complain about something almost always. ever.

- designer wear (pretty facade, ugly interior)

i may or may not have specific people in mind... but i'd like to give some advice. here it is: STOP.

stop being crazy. stop pretending that it is acceptable to treat other people like dirt. stop believing that it is okay to ramble about your own life to anyone with an ear but never ask about the person whom you've chosen as your victim. stop thinking that your friends will always be there, because chances are, given the right amount of abuse, maybe they eventually won't. stop opening up healed wounds time and time again. stop with the dramatics... please stop.

i prefaced my rant with the nature of selfishness for a reason; i know egocentrism is ingrained in our psyche. we, as humans, were not made to be perfect. we are all driven to protect ourselves and have a tendency to wonder "why not me?" if the situation calls for it or vice versa. ultimately, however, our actions define our personalities. a simple consideration for others' feelings can go a long way. no one wants to be anybody's welcome mat, and if you truly care about someone, it should also be very natural to take into account their feelings, to want for a friend to be happy. forgiveness can only be tested so often, but what should happen when the fuse finally runs its course?

penny for your thoughts...