Koh Phangan

I spent New Years on the beautiful island of Koh Phangan. Home to the infamous and decadent Full Moon Party. Concern gripped me as the date for my departure inched closer. First I was concerned because the forecast said it was going to rain all week which could spell shitty weather for the outdoor beach party. Second, I was concerned because I was staying in a hostel with a friend who had never stayed in one before, and to make things worse this hostel brand was known for being particularly rambunctious.

And Finally, I was concerned because I had planned on avoiding Koh Phangan and the Full Moon Party altogether. The Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan is an event which has achieved icon status in the backpacker community. Through films, culture, and word of mouth this has become a mandatory stop on any backpacking adventure through SE Asia. My desire to skip it emanated from the belief that it is inauthentic to Thailand. When my friends who were visiting insisted on spending NYE in the islands I figured if I was going to be on any island it might as well be Koh Phangan. Once the opportunity appeared to me I decided to love it or hate it based on my own experience instead of letting the dense web of cultural knowledge that surrounds the Full Moon Party cloud my judgement.

The boat ride to Koh Phangan was long and stormy causing many people aboard to get motion sickness. I too almost succumbed but a trick I had learned from a Chinese traveler about massaging your pressure points kept me together. The dark rain clouds dumped their contents over the island of Koh Phangan as we disembarked the boat, everyone ran towards the transportation waiting at the end of the pier.

This photo was taken at noon and perfectly encapsulates the vibe of Slumber Party Hostel.

When I got dropped off at my hostel the clouds had vanished and Koh Phangan looked like the island paradise from the post cards. House music was blasting from the patio of Slumber Party Hostel as I walked up its stairs. A couple of dudes were sprawled out across the astro-turf clearly hung over from last nights party. I looked at the narrow stairs that took you to the rooms and wondered how nice the private room I was staying in was. After check in the attendant led me to my room, only instead of heading upstairs we went across the street. Turns out the private room I had booked was in an adjacent newly purchased property.

My friend John arrived later that night, and when I showed him our room he was shocked. The room was as nice as hotel because it was a fancy hotel before it got bought by the hostel chain. John was very happy that he was finally having a hostel experience, though I had to remind him that our housing situation was an outlier. That night the hostel planned a pub crawl. Travel spaces are dominated by straight white men who bring a colonial baggage that goes unchecked. So it was nice to have fellow black and lgbt person with me to see the crazy conversations I was surrounded by.

When New Years Eve arrived the sun hung bright in the sky and there was no forecast for rain. I had enjoyed my previous days on the island because it did not trigger my claustrophobia like Koh Phi Phi. As well there happened to be this hut on the side of the road run by this family who cooked the most delicious food. After dinner a group of us met on this tiny beach near our hostel to drink before heading down the the main attraction. The attendees were my friend John, four people I met while traveling in Vietnam, and two other travelers staying in our hostel.

Upon arrival at Haad Rin beach for the NYE Countdown party I was surrounded by bare skin, glowsticks, buckets of alcohol, and music. All the bars had an open floor plan facing the beach. Music stacked in large speakers blasting at levels you could hear in a boat off the coast. If you didn’t like what was playing at one bar all you had to do was move 25 feet in left or right direction. The music was very diverse and I found myself dancing on top of a platform to some old school R&B before we ended the year 2017. I looked out at the sea of bodies gyrating and stopped. I had always dreamt of traveling the world but I couldn’t believe that dream had brought me to an island off the coast of Thailand.

After a day of rest I packed up my belongings and attempted to leave Koh Phangan. Normally I buy all my tickets last minute while backpacking to ensure I don’t miss any trips due to illness or malaise. Yet, that day it was impossible to get a boat off the island for at least 3 days. I tried multiple travel agencies and they all laughed me out of their store. I wasn’t too worried about being stuck on an island because I had grown fond of Koh Phangan and this amazing restaurant next to my hostel which made the best green curry rice. What really concerned me was where I would sleep.

Most establishments were booked solid because of the holidays and the fact that there was a Full Moon Party 3 days after the NYE party. Online most places have a 5 day minimum to book lodging around the big beach parties but I discovered that if you go in person they wave most of those minimums. So with a place to stay and a ticket off the island booked in advance I went off and enjoyed my final days on the island. I thought the actual Full Moon Party would be less crowded or wild considering we had all just celebrated NYE, however I was proved wrong. My second expedition on Haad Rin was more an anthropological survey. I studied the attendees as they danced or played fire limbo. I got to explore more of the area and realized that there were more bars then just the ones facing the beach. I also learned of another bar atop the mountains that you have to take a boat to reach.

Koh Phangan is a big enough island that you can find both excessive debauchery and pockets of peace away from the madness. I’m happy I got to experience both for myself and make up my own mind about all this island holds. Subscribe below so you don’t miss an addition to the Archives!

Adventures in the Andaman

My favorite movie growing up was Titanic which must be subconsciously connected to the fact that I can’t swim. In an attempt to face my fears, however, I boarded my second boat in just as many days to go deep into the Andaman Sea to explore the islands around Krabi. As the coast shrunk in my field of vision I eyed the life jackets tucked under the nose of the boat. There wasn’t enough for the number of people on board but I felt confident that if push came to shove I would end up with one. It’s not that I’ve never tried to swim, its just that I drowned during my first swimming lesson and never tried again. But I kept hearing everyone talk about snorkeling in Thailand and figured if there was any chance I would get over my fear of water it would be now.

The boat trip was sponsored by our hostel and it was one of the rare occasions were going on a tour through a hostel was cheaper then arranging it on your own. Ebony and I boarded the boat with about 15-20 other people. Our first stop was Tonsai Beach which Ebony and I had partially seen the previous day. But this wasn’t just any tour it was a party tour so after we got off the boat we all circled up on the beach and shotgunned the free beer we got with our ticket. The group separated and I explored the grassy areas to see if I could snap any pics. I loved the way the tall palms were an accessory to the bright blue sky and fluffy clouds.

After an hour we made our way back on the boat and went further out to sea, for snorkeling. I had to admit there was something so beautiful about being on the water. The rhythm of the boat as it bounces over the waves, the wind whipping around you, the smell of salt in the air. We stopped by this large lime stone rock that stuck out of the sea like a giant thumb. The water had created caves after hundreds of years of water beating against the soft porous rock. They passed out the scant life jackets and a bunch of people jumped into the water to go swim around. The main instructor had hoped we would be able to snorkel here but claimed the water was too murky and so we went even further out to sea.

By this time the coast was the size of a piece of paper on the horizon. The important mix of fear and excitement was churning inside of me as we stopped at our new location. There was another boat present with people snorkeling in the distance. I looked over the boat into the water below wondering what I would see beneath its surface. The instructor pulled out the snorkels and talked about how to use them, this was the first safety demonstration I had paid attention to in god knows how long. When he warned that the snorkels often get foggy I asked how I would mitigate that problem. He suggested we spit into the goggles and then rinse it with some water. The fear and excitement quickly turned to disgust. I started gagging, but told myself it was fine I could get past this. However when they told us that we would have to share snorkels I knew this dream might be coming to an end. If I was in the first round of people with snorkels then I could have convinced myself that they sterilize the snorkels after every trip. But watching everyone spit right in front of me shattered that fragile illusion.

Instead I decided I would try and float in the water. I pulled on a life jacket and wearily climbed off the boat. My knees were shaking as I made my way down the wooden ladder the boat rocking with the waves. The water was a lot warmer then I expected. When I was waist deep i decided to let go hoping I would float. The water was so salty that I did but the current was so strong that it began to drag me away from the boat. I quickly grabbed back onto the ladder and just bobbed like an animal clinging to a rope for dear life.

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After I pulled myself up on the boat I noticed that the captain kept tinkering with the engine. He pulled a wrench out of his bag and made some adjustments before pulling a lever that previously had started the engine only this time it made no sound. I started to grow concerned as people made their way back to the boat and I hadn’t heard the engine roar to life. Finally he revived the engine and we were on our way. Our final stop was Railay Beach where there is a beautiful cave system and a shrine dedicated to a Princess Goddess. According to tradition to pay your respects you must bring a phallus as a gift so the cave is literally filled with different sized carvings. The sun began to set so we hopped back on our boat and headed back to Krabi. While I didn’t get to snorkel I’m happy I at least got into the water and saw a cave full of penises.

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Pai

The tiny minivan careened around another blind curve. The road to Pai from Chiang Mai contains 762 hairpin turns as you go up a mountain- this ride is not for those who get motion sickness easily. I thought I'd be fine but a third of the way up the mountain my stomach started to get upset. The view, while pretty was doing nothing for my motion sickness, there was no horizon for me to focus on. Just steep valleys filled with trees quickly replaced by tall rock faces and shacks build precariously on the edge. A tiny Korean woman behind me looked like she was ready to blow. Next, to me, the Chinese man was massaging his girlfriend's hand in between her thumb and index finger. I repeated the same act on my hand and I could feel my stomach start to calm. I asked if he had any more tips for fighting motion sickness when we stopped for a break halfway up the mountain. He gave me some tiger balm to rub under my nostrils. The remedies kept my stomach under control for the second half of our journey until at last hilly mountainous jungle gave way to a small town filled with people, motorcycles, and dogs. 

My friends from Bangkok and Chiang Mai had checked into the Pai Circus hostel the day before. I stood at the bus terminal waiting for my shuttle to arrive. While I waited I looked around the dusty street taking in my new surroundings. The air up here was very cool even though it was the middle of the day. Tourists wandered around in front of storefronts that boasted vegan foods and rasta sensibilities. When the cart arrived to pick me up I got to see the rest of the tiny town of Pai. All the buildings were short and squat made mostly out of wood tons of shops advertised handmade trinkets and yoga sessions. Pai was truly a hippy paradise nestled in the mountains.

Upon arrival at the hostel, I was taken aback by the gorgeous views of the surrounding area. The hostel itself consisted of a large open air lobby. All of the rooms were scattered around the edges of the perimeter. In the middle was a couple hammocks, a pool with a sign saying it would be fixed in one day, that was up the whole 3 nights I was there, and a covered area for the bar. While everyone else reserved a nice bungalow I tried to be cheap by staying in the shared room for one dollar less. But when I walked in and heard the floors creak underneath me I knew I had made the wrong decision. This was, however, the cheapest accommodation I had found so far so I shouldn't be surprised that I could see through the wood slats to the ground underneath. Each bed came with its own mosquito net and a solitary fan hung in the corner incapable of cooling the entire room due to its angle. I laid my belongings under my mosquito net praying to god I'd be able to sleep come nightfall. 

I found my friends at the bar and we exchanged hugs before getting a quick bite to eat.  We went to go eat at one of the shops across the road from the hostel. There was a rooster making noise in a cage below us, tiny ants crawled across the table, and an unreliable Wi-fi password was scribbled onto the menu. As we waited for the food to arrive I learned that the previous day someone in their van had vomited all over my friends Noah's stuff during the ride. And my friend Walt got into an accident on his motorcycle as he navigated the unforgiving terrain, getting his very own Pai tattoo. 

The next day we congregated in bungalow D17 discussing our plans. The group had decided to rent motorcycles to go explore the countryside. Rooted in my fear of bikes I decided to stay back not wanting a Pai tattoo of my own. However, due to some unforeseen circumstances, I got a second chance to go with them and I decided to take it. Travel is about facing fears so I decided to not let this one stop me from having my nature adventure. I got on back of Noah's bike despite this being his first time driving a motorcycle and dug my nails into his side. The wind whipped around us as we gained speed, threatening to knock me into traffic. The town flew by us as we made our way to our first destination the Mor Paeng Waterfall.

The paved streets soon gave way to gravel which then gave way to dirt littered with rocks. As you can imagine the suspension on the motorcycle was shit so Noah and I bounced so hard I thought we were on a mechanical bull. Fields of rice grazed my peropheral vision as cows wandered in their pastures. When we arrived at Mor Paeng my legs were a little wobbly but I was alive.  We had to climb down a trail from the road and then climb up the slippery rock face of Mor Paeng. For a second I thought I had come for nothing but I found a way to climb up the mountain without ripping my pants or dropping my camera.

Once I reached the top I saw  local Thai men doing trick jumps into the pool of water that formed at the top of the waterfall. People took turns swimming as different travel groups came and went. We chilled there for about an hour before heading off to our next destination. I climbed on the back of Noah's bike with more confidence then I had previously.

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During my second ride I no longer had to hold on for dear life. I was content with my hands hovering near his waist. Ebony was taking video while sitting on the back of Kieran's bike but I wasn't that bold. We passed by a huge Pai sign and advertisements for strawberries as we headed towards the Pai Canyon. We pulled up on the side of the road next to a collection of other motorcycles and a roadside food stall. After walking up what seemed like an endless set of stairs- a large plateau greeted us with steep cliffs and bright greens contrasting against the dusty yellows and reds of the rock.

Past the trees, the mountains rose up to reach the sky on the horizon it was a beautiful view that would be great during sunset.  I sat down and looked out into the vastness of nature. Looking back this was when the seed of my love for nature was planted. 

That night we sat on mats at a local bar- it was our last. We marveled at how we went from strangers to close friends in a matter of weeks. I couldn't imagine traveling the rest of Thailand without their humor and support.  I thought about the nature of friendships in general, how can I bring this level of openness to the "real world?" Yes backpacking and the isolation of being in a foreign country created a bond that is highly situational. But that doesn't mean that we can't carry this openness with us in our every day lives. 

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Bangkok II

History weighs down social interactions, simple communications become soggy with innuendo. Sometimes you worry more about how you were perceived than how you felt. That's how I often feel navigating social environments back home. However, Bangkok was allowing me to live a more embodied life. Everything and everyone around me was so new. There was no past to rely on for comfort or information. I was one among many backpackers brought together by a common love of exploration and enough capital (social and financial) to travel. We were all the same yet different. We were on equal footing- the real world seemed so far away. 

I was sitting on the cots in the lobby of Nap Park while The Brothers Grimsby played on the large television when I struck up my first conversation with a fellow traveler. His name was Jack from the UK and he was staying in the same dorm as me. After chatting for a bit I asked if he wanted to join me for lunch. I had looked up places to eat in Bangkok and found this amazing restaurant serving noodles that you rarely find on restaurant menus. We walked North away from the commotion and sanctity of the upcoming cremation and made our way down various alleys and side streets that were flooded from the previous days rain bursts. Making friends hasn't been this easy since college. Which made me wonder why making friends has to be difficult at all. Histories both personal and cultural have a way of wedging themselves between us and new experiences/people. 

Jack and I found the tiny restaurant the side street of a side street nestled around shuttered businesses. Four people were currently sitting inside two military men dressed in full regalia, an older woman fanning herself, and a man sitting on a stool. We were the only non-Thai people in the small restaurant, a strange pair for sure. I tried to mime for a menu but the waiter shook his head and pointed to the wall were items were written in Thai. My friend and I exchanged confused looks and I pulled out my phone to find the soup from the online article. The man nodded and asked how spicy we wanted the soup. I said very spicy despite the fact that it was a furnace outside and the only thing cooling the tiny restaurant was a fan that was pointed in the opposite direction. Ten to fifteen minutes later the sukothai noodle soup, pictured above, was brought to us. The soup contained the hallmarks of a delicious Thai soup was spicy, the flavors were sharp very fresh, and the broth had such a luscious but light taste. The best part the soup only cost me 40 baht which was a little over $1. 

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Sadly my new friend was ending his experience in Thailand just as I was beginning. I said goodbye to him a couple days later as he made his way to Cambodia. I asked a dude named Keiran to watch my laptop in the lobby and when I returned we started talking. I later met a red headed American named Rika who worked as a boat captain in Alaska. These random interactions built on top each other. Days later, the randomness connected like lego blocks. I was sitting on a rooftop with Keiran, Rika, and others talking about the efficacy of Unions, the politics of Brexit and Trump, the downfalls of ideological purity, and the role of dating apps in modern day romance. We differed in tactics and beliefs we but had interesting, civil, and challenging discussions with each other. 

We hung out for a couple more days before Rika and some other people headed north to visit Thailand's ancient capitals and then eventually go to Chiang Mai for a lantern festival. I had a few more days booked in Bangkok and then I was heading south so I said goodbye. I started to get into the rhythm of backpacking the constant stream of hello's and goodbyes, the origin stories of the people you just met. New people arrived in the city and I found another group to exploring with. We headed to the Chatuchak Market by tuk tuk and wandered among the food stalls, boutique jewlery vendors, and piles of thai silk scarves and other accoutrement.

I kept running into travelers who mentioned going to Chiang Mai for a festival called Loi Krathong and I started to rethink my plans. The goal was to go with the flow and see where SE Asia takes me and I was feeling the wind blowing me north. I reached out to my friends to see which hostel they were staying and at and thankfully it wasn't booked.

With my plans to leave Bangkok set I head out on a walkabout around Old Town to take photos and eat at a few more restaurants before leaving. I was given so many warnings about how horrible Bangkok was but I had come to like the city. It wasn't my favorite city ever but I appreciated the energy, Bangkok's ability to surprise, and the food's expertise in tantalizing the tongue. I needed to educate myself about Thailand.  This city was full of complexity and I was excited to learn more about it. I arrived with this myopic understanding of its cuisine and culture and this trip was opening my eyes. 

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Bangkok

Cities like people develop reputations. Whether they are deserved or not they spread from mouth to mouth influencing how people receive them before they even experience it. Bangkok, unfortunately, has a bad reputation among travelers and backpackers. The first time I heard someone bad mouth Bangkok I was in Seoul and someone was telling me about how smelly and dirty the city was, how they got ripped off, how... I heard the refrain so many times during my travel that when the plane landed in Suvarnabhumi I wasn't sure what to expect.  I was worried about going to Thailand. It was the first truly foreign place that I was going and I was afraid. 

Physical safety, food cleanliness, and infrastructure all fears because we label Thailand a 3rd World country. I attached deficiency to that, without any thought to where that framework for thinking about the world came from. I learned while writing this that The Three Worlds model was developed to classify Cold War Allegiances and the 3rd world were countries that were not allied to either side. How that term came to represent backward, less than, uncivilized is a product of racism and imperialsim. And I'm upset with myself for falling into that kind of colonial ideology.  Traveling through Thailand was really going to challenge my assumptions and I was ready for it. 

 When I got off the plane I marveled at how clean and white the airport was. It was like the entire facility had just opened and I was the first passenger.  I picked up my luggage and navigated my way to the underground rail system. They use actual tokens which I thought was very retro. I slipped my token into the stall and made my way downstairs to the rails. I settled down in my seat and the train began its journey across the city. A mix of families, tourists, and strangers packed the car. The train left the underground tunnel and was briefly filled with the bright light of the midday sun. My first sight of Bangkok was lots of green leaves on trees with buildings towering in the distance. I saw buildings, some dilapidated others pristine. I saw grass waving at the sky and streets  lined with empty cars. As we got closer to the heart of the city the buildings grew taller and the land more metropolitan. What I saw was a city like any other. The marked differences were the ornate red and gold shrines and the beautiful curvature of the Thai language written across billboards. Otherwise, I could have been anywhere. I was filled with a sense of familiarity when I was anticipating something foreign. The true power of dehumanization is its ability to mark the familiar foreign. 

 My stop was coming up and since I arrived in Thailand, I was in cool embrace of air conditioning. Once I stepped onto the platform the humidity and heat enveloped me all at once. I almost ran back to safety but the doors closed and the train continued on its journey. I went to the taxi stand and hopped in the first car. One of Bangkok's reputations was revealed to be true- the traffic is abhorrent. Bumper to bumper for nearly the entire drive. Sometimes the street lights would go from red to green to red again and the car wouldn't move. 

My hostel Nap Park was located in Old Town and was a few blocks away from Khao San road. The entrance was recessed creating a narrow pathway filled with couches and a mini stovetop before the main doors. Shoes and flip flops lined the floor and shelf in front of the glass sliding doors that took you inside. Bags were strewn around the interior along with the bodies of weary travelers. I checked in and took a refreshing shower. It was to hot to chill in the sleeping area- the AC is turned off in the dorms during the day to save power. The lobby was the only air conditioned place but I wasn't in the mood to socialize nor did I know how. This was a new environment that I only briefly experienced in South Korea. I forgot to pick up soap and sunscreen before I left London so I took this time to eat and run some errands.

As I explored the various stores and shops I had my first bit of culture shock. Almost every product for sale contained ingredients to bleach your skin, even the sunscreen. As a fierce protector of my melanin i scrutinized every option until I found some that wouldn't erase me. I left one store and walked  halfway down the block before I heard someone making a commotion behind me. When I turned the source was a middle aged Thai women. She came up to me holding a 500 baht note worth about $15. She pointed to the ground and handed it to me before walking away. I reached into my pocket and low and behold I had accidentally dropped this note while paying for my goods. I walked back to the hostel thinking the city I was warned about was not the city I was currently experiencing. 

One big reason for this is that the city, no the country was ending its period of mourning. Before arrival, I asked one of my Thai friends about things to do in Bangkok and she said that I was coming to Bangkok at a tricky time, the beloved King Rama IX was set to be cremated ending a year-long period of mourning. The normally bright and vibrant city was muted for this ceremony. I got to see a Bangkok that most tourists don't normally see. A reserved and more toned down city. Khao San road known for its debauchery was not allowed to sell alcohol for the entire week; as well all concerts and events were cancelled and postponed. As an outsider, seeing this amount of deference to a head of state was really surprising. I saw grandmothers crying in the street, people with sorrow in their eyes. So it was beautiful and humbling to see how much people truly cared about King Rama IX and all that he did for his country. I spent some time reading the public murals that detailed his life accomplishments.

 Many of the tourists who came to Thailand do no research about whats going on, which created tension between them and the community. So while I took this time to talk to the people who worked at Nap Park about what this time means and how to best be respectful many other white and male back packers would loudly complain about how quiet the city was. They came to party they didn't come for this ceremony. They said their vacation was ruined- as if the whole country was supposed to operate on their schedule. The worst offense was this American girl loudly proclaiming that she didn't understand why the city was still in mourning if King Rama IX had died a year prior. I was shocked that someone could be so callous cause there was a Thai woman sitting next to us as well this person was Mexican American so you'd think she would be more sensitive to other cultures. I apologized to my friend and she said she's used to Americans being rude or ignorant. 

In my short time in Bangkok I was beginning to see the strong ways in which colonialism influences travel to this day. The ways in which Bangkok operates just like any other capital city but we come to fear it because of its location or reputation. People are just trying to live their daily life just at different rhythms with different intentions. Thats why a lot of the photos I choose look inconspicuous. They were taken in Bangkok and only existed in the time before my camera shutter closed but they could also be any city full of cabs or buildings in  need of electricity. We focus on what makes us different rather then everything that connects us.  

Thats's what these rifts do they blind us to the truth that we are similar. The question i started to ask myself was, "how does one travel ethically?"  I wasn't sure of the answer but I was excited for what I would learn along the way.

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London/ The End

You die once you stop learning. Ever since I came across that phrase its been my mission to make every experience a learning opportunity. So I love when you can break time into discrete pieces to reflect on them. Leaving one city and country for another is such a good demarcation. I spent my last 24 hours in the same room where I spent my first. As I made sure I had all my belongings I wondered what it was that I gained from coming to London? Was it worth it? London for sure was so expensive but it is possible to weight the pounds I spent with all that I learned and gained? 

This experience once again allowed me to see the best and worst of myself. Old demons wore new masks and I found light in the places I thought would be dark forever. Unfolding is never easy but London made it feel good. 

I mainly spent time in and around South and East London. Sadly I didn't spend much time in West London because I continually told myself that it was too far away, which it was. The few times I did go I enjoyed the different vibe and energy it had. One time I was with my friend Alec and we visited his favorite museum the Victoria and Albert. The V&A as its called for short is one of the leading museums on art and design. As I explored the different floors I was transported through so many different time periods getting a peek at the decor and style of different era's. By far my favorite section of the museum beside the amazingly ornate cafe that allows anyone to dine like royalty was the series on cutlery used in homes designed by different styles. I loved seeing a visual timeline through everyday objects and how they evolve with the times. 

Afterwards, we went to the Albert Memorial which is a beautiful statue surrounded by mildly racist statues of the four corners of the earth, above you see the American corner where you can find some Bison and a Native American both of which were almost wiped out due to imperialism. 

Another thing I wish I had explored more was the museums. I made it to the Tate Modern to see this wonderful exhibition called "Soul of a Nation: Art in the Age of Black Power." This exhibition provoked so many questions in me about what black art could and should look like. As well as introducing me to new artists that I had never heard of. I also saw a beautiful exhibition of Shikeith's work in this small gallery, but I didn't see nearly enough of all that London had to offer.  What I learned is that I need to be more intentional with my time. If there are things I want to do I need to schedule them. 

Over these 3 months I learned that some  British accents are actually impenetrable. That liquor stores are called Off Licences and Brits don't season their food. I learned that Brexit has left a wound in the national soul and many people were unsure about how it would be filled. I learned I still have issues balancing a social life with work. But I also learned to develop rituals that once I master will allow me to reach the productivity I know I can. I learned that cities are the most magical when you let them unfold themselves rather than arriving with preconceived notions. Most importantly I learned that the Universe will always provide and that I need to stop the doubt. 

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Sayonara Japan

The quiet alleyway that housed my bedroom in Shinjuku had more vending machines then it had corners to put them on. It was one of those quirks that could only occur in Japan. Another quirk was how they listed the room sizes online by tatami mats. What size was a tatami mat? I had no idea what a room that was "6 tatami mats" in size would look like. Would three suitcases of clothes fit in 6 tatami mats? I didn't have that cultural reference but I checked out the room anyway. It was big enough for a bed, desk, and couch as well as all my clothes, I spent 3 months in that room as birds chirped and rain fell, I couldn't believe so much time had passed. As I was packing up to leave I grabbed my red travel journal and flipped to the first entry after I landed. Two questions jumped off the page "What am I going to find in Japan?" and "What kind of person would I be upon leaving?" I knew even then that coming to Japan was more than just eating ramen and exploring cultural sites and partying, it was also about exploring who I was and what I could become.

While I was packing Sejan went on a morning walk around my neighborhood. Would Sejan notice the multitude of vending machines or the turtle mural above the car wash? Some details of the world only reveal themselves after you walk the same road multiple times. Like how different the street smells when the roasted sweet potatoes are outside the supermarket in the evenings. These are details the casual observer would ignore, details that aren't adventurous or instagrammable. But what I didn't realize until I arrived was that the pedestrian and average plays a big part in long-term travel. 

Exploring bamboo forests, getting lost in Yoyogi park, discovering cool thrift stores stand tall in the imagination but they make up such a small part of long-term travel. In truth, the "everyday reality" of travel is much more mundane but it is in those moments when you have to face yourself and whatever baggage you're carrying. For me, it was the feelings of loneliness and insecurity. I interrogated the mythologies I tell myself: Am I really outgoing? Am I really a good photographer? Can I really travel the world by myself? With nothing to distract me, I had to face them head-on. No more running away. I was afraid that If I answered them my insecurities would be true and I would have to change what I dreamed about. But when I looked back at what I had accomplished I realized I had so much power and strength. I pushed through and created art with local artists that inspired me. I fostered a community of friends that I could rely on for strength and support.  I survived the sadness, the insecurity, the days I didn't want to leave my room to have an amazing time. Turns out that by running away from these questions I was denying myself the truth of how amazing and talented I was. 

The night before I left Tokyo I sat surrounded by friends both new and old at the bar of a tiny ramen restaurant in Shibuya. I loved ramen before I came but I developed a whole new appreciation for the art form after slurping countless bowls. I had left 3 months prior unsure of what would become of me. And in some ways, I'm still unsure. What I did foster was a deeper connection with my strengths and weaknesses. Turns out life is like making a bowl of ramen it's going to take a lifetime of repetition to make the perfect bowl. Japan was the hardest country to start my travels- the equivalent of skiing down a black diamond your first time on the slopes. As much as I hoped, knowing that didn't make it any easier. I learned to be kind to myself especially since Japan was just the first stop of many. It wasn't going to be perfect first time on the mountain. I can't let my expectations get in the way of my results. My travels around the world will be just as much about creating art and meeting new people as it is about healing. 

So Sayonara Japan, thank you for giving me space to fail and grow and cry and laugh and discover.  Subscribe below so you never miss an addition to the Archive.