Miss and Individuality

I’ve been in Canada a year and a half now. After living in Thailand for five years.
I can tell you that I do not miss the place too much. I have pangs of it every now and then and a slew of specific moments that snag in my brain system. I don’t know what draws them out- usually it’s nothing relating to what my present moment is.
I don’t get stuck on them though-I let them pass for what they are and continue on.

As soon as those deep misses hit,immediatly following I feel either one of two things.

One: You want to be at the place you are not in; but  you have set a perfect example of the grass not being greener on the other side.

I want to go back sometimes, but if I think practically, the idea is absurd. I got into such a rut there ( my relationship at the time certainly aided it) that I began to detest my surroundings. Wanting nothing more, than my homeland.

Two: I am fortunate to be able to feel something like this. For a place like this, for a time in my life like this.

There are millions who will never know what living outside of learning what hackysack or hopscotch or caramilk chocolate bars are. Millions who will never spend five years of their life in a country with a language different then their own. People who will not know what it’s like to go without having a bath for years and only showers. Who will not know what it’s like to miss a bag of ketchup chips or honey nut cheerios.

And that’s okay.

I admit to never walking the Great Wall of China or trying to learn how to surf.
I’ve never even eaten an olive and liked it.

And this is what creates individuality.

 

 

 

Trying to Travel the Less Travelled

Hey Travellers,

You mostly all want to do the ‘non touristy’ stuff. To live like they do.
To experience life as they would. To not buy a Tourist Magazine and book tours or go to the top rated temple in the world or scuba dive like they can not afford or buy Starbucks like the people behind the counters’ wages couldn’t even buy in one hour.

I lived in Thailand for 5 years. I lived in a tourist city. ( That was where my Dad was located for work.)

I met many many travellers.
And believe it or not, this was a common theme as well.
” We just wanna stay on this unbeaten path and yuh know, scope out the way they live’.

Fair enough.
I get your curiousity.
And by no means am I faulting it.

But I kind of am.

Because you see,
your glimpses of ‘the way they live’
are like 12 snowflakes in a full sized igloo.

I realize that I’m a little tainted and under valued.
I just want to make the point that you aren’t the only ones doing it.
Don’t think you’re the hippest coolest travellors around ( I’ve met a lot that think they’re doing a route that no one else has’ ) when hundreds of you are doing the same thing.
Truth is,
all you off beaten travellers,

are slowly but surely,
making that off beaten path
a beaten down trail of direction to what will eventually be a page in the next
‘Places to Go when in India’.

Travelled Birdy WhoaMan

I think this month of 2016 I’ve written the most. In all four year I’ve had this blog.

I just feel like spilling I guess. Brimmed up slowly like the drops of the Tassimo and the cups too small and there it drips down the sides of the black mug I always choose.

I’ve been to a few places in the world:
England, Italy,Switzerland,France,Germany,Thailand,Austria,Oman, practicially all 51 ( or is it 52 now? ) states of America. Vancouver,Newfoundland,Toronto,Quebec.. and none of those are airport pitstops.
Those are a few off the top of my head.

I started out young. 16? Well, young to me.
And I like the person it’s made me. I think.
I think because I also think that sometimes it’s a downfall. Like you need more to impress you now. That it takes more for you to be interested in a person.
Your senses are broadened. You’ve seen more. You’ve met more. You’ve tasted more.

I didn’t intend anything in this post. But here I type, cross legged in a chair from Thailand and my feet are asleep like I will be in 23 minutes.

Through all that travel experience, which has done mucho much for me and to me,
i like how it’s made me want to live in only one country for life.
The country I was born in.

Can Ah Daaaahhhhhhh.

 

Gurd

You go to a five stages,three day camping festival event and you come back feeling like you were on a euphoric emotional high two of the three days and you understand that it’s been 5 years since you’ve been around that many English speaking people at once and that it is your first time you have ever even experienced bands and people and closeness the way that you did.

You see the tents come down and the piles of garbage bags and the dust from the cars driving out.

You arrive home and you play a song from the CD you bought of one of the bands you saw-one of the members of that band you went to public school with and whose mother taught you in grade 6.

And you cry.

It’s not a drop of the system. It’s not happy slid into a hole of sad. It’s an overwhelming mixture of memories and time and realization. That you just experienced all that. And the photos run your heart wild and before you fully understand,you’re craving to do more of things like this.
You can have lived on the other side of the world for years, visited multiple countries and drove through 90% of the states in America; but when your travel bug has gone mute, it is mere evidence that something will take it’s place.

Maybe you won’t figure what’s supposed to fill it up right away. But something will.

It might click when you’re dancing in a great furious next to a girl that you met 12 hours ago, or when you’re in a group of 7, having lost the three people you knew. It might click when you get home and your heart yearns to do it all over again.

To start an addiction of something new, because of a space that held something old.

Oh, that is a marvelous life particle to have obtained!

I’m leaving for Jamaica tonight. In two years and three months, it will be the longest I’ve been away from my son. Eight days.
I think I have forgotten what it is like.

Today a bunch of unease flooded the system. When I thought of being back in a tropical, thirty degree country.
A climate I lived in for five years.

I am nervous that I will miss Thailand. That it will hit me hard.
I do have faith in myself, the unlimited drinks and the company.

I’m sure I’ll be fine.

But man.

Breaking Down in the Last Week

My head is spinning and I’m whirling myself into people’s arms hoping to make some impact.Hoping they won’t be able to forget me and I am neglecting my child and own sister and mother and it hits me today that going back is going to be harder than ever before. Not exactly the leaving part. But the living there part. I have now experienced this life with friends and child.I have finally combined them too in a rapid pace and I am clinging to it.
I have no energy for my child. I am pushing him away as I step outdoors and gulp the last of this air. The people glow. I am feeling guilty and worn and my voice is half gone. I am pushing myself on 5 hours of sleep at night. I am doing as much as I can in the time I have. I am getting frantic and simple things are now making me whimper. Planning to meet people is becoming difficult and I am snapping at my mother.
My ends are unravelling and I feel at this point I have no control. Nor do I want to. My eyes are set on here and now. On the stuff that I won’t have for much longer. I tell myself I’ll be better in Thailand. That I’ll fix this madness. That there won’t even be anything to fix. But deep down I know, something is up. I’m not a good mother here and I don’t know if I will be as good of one over there as I was before I left to visit Canada.
I am scared.
I am emotional.
I am breaking down.

It is Happening

I’m doing it.
I’m going to make a trip back home. It will take 2 planes, 18 flight hours, 8 hours in 3 airports, and a 4 hour car ride.

It will take a day and a half.
To get from one side of the world to the other.
My nine month old,
will be in my arms.
I am shaking at the idea.
And it is still two weeks away.