7
May

Dying Inside

   Posted by: Chip   in Travel Life, Vietnam

I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t want to run away again, but it’s killing me gradually. I’m a very very bad girl. All I ever do is making my Mom cry. But I can’t forget what I want just to do what my Mom wants me to.

I’m forced to choose between my own will and my responsibility as a daughter. In my culture, the latter is the obvious. Since parents give you life, you’re supposed to give it back to your parents. But I know if I don’t it, I will feel bitter every single moment for the rest of my life. I will die with hatred and regret.

Mom said that living for yourself is selfish. Living for the others, in my Mom’s logics, is to do what your family wants you to do. But I’ve learned that, the best thing you can do for the others is to do what you love. Once you succeed, you can help people around you.

It sucks when you are so different that even your own parents can’t understand you.

When people are forced to choose between two dead ends, they naturally want to break through: committing suicide or running away. Committing suicide is not an option. I love my life more than anything else. Running away is cruel. I know if I run away now, I will never come back. I love my family. I will never forget myself if I lose them.

Dear God, you said that we reap as we sow. I’m put in this situation, does it mean that I’ve sowed all the awful things? Am I really that bad?

4
May

Mom can’t help

   Posted by: Chip   in Travel Life, Vietnam

My parents said that I gained my consciousness pretty early. As soon as Mom stopped breastfeeding me, I stopped wetting the bed. My earliest memory went back to when I was almost 2 years old. At that time, I could run fairly well but still couldn’t speak. I woke up one morning to find out that I had already peed on my bed. It scared the shit out of me. What if Mom punished me? What if people laughed at me? But the wet pants were uncomfortable like hell, I needed to get out of them fast. So I walked to the kitchen to find my Mom. But half way, my cowardice got back in and the little chicken me just stood behind the kitchen door, peeping at Mom. Suddenly, she looked back. Seeing my wry face, she came over to pick me up. “Oops, you peed.” She laughed. “It’s ok. You didn’t mean it. I’ll get you clean pants.”

Now, as I’m so close to home after a long trip, I feel the same way I felt that day. I have done something that wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t right either. The problem is there, but I can’t find words to explain. I don’t want to meet anybody in these dirty pants, but I have to. The difference is this time, Mom won’t be able to understand. She won’t be able to help. Nobody will be able to help.

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30
Apr

It’s good to be back

   Posted by: Chip   in Travel Life, Vietnam

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” – Matsuo Basho

So I’m home, or “home”. I’m not yet with my family, but I’m where everybody thinks I’ve come back to. It was a tough, but quick decision. I decided on Saturday morning, bought the ticket in the afternoon, flew out on Monday, and arrived in Ho Chi Minh on Tuesday.

There are several reasons why I decided to come back all of a sudden. Some people might call them “bad luck”, I prefer to think of them as the signals the universe send to remind me what is really important. I’ll save the details for when I’m in the whining mood. In this blog post, all I can say is that when we can’t change a situation, we have to make the most out of it. And I have to admit that with the help of few amazing friends, I managed to turn this bad situation around pretty nicely. Now I have a chance to visit my family whom I miss dearly, to be with friends who understand & tolerate me well, to eat all the food I’ve always dreamed of. My last few days have been heaven. I have been eating and been pampered so much that I’ll soon swell with love and fat. I can’t believe that I’ve deprived myself of this happiness for so long. For practical reasons, this trip back home also gives me time to do a bunch of projects I love but never managed to do when I was traveling. For example, to revive Free Hugs Vietnam, to develop the wiki for Vietnamese backpackers, to publish my book, and few other awesome projects I can’t give details just yet.

Coming back doesn’t mean giving up traveling. Instead, think of this homecoming as a necessary break from all the travel, as Margaret Fairless, the author of The Roadmender (disclaimer: I’m not a big fan of her nor her book, I just find her ideas fascinating), once said: “To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward.” I’ve traveled long enough to learn the tricks of the trade, to go where I desire, when my heart is ready. I have a ticket to South Africa then South America early in August (when the winter in the Southern hemisphere is almost over). However, I’ve been so swept away in the last few days that I’m a bit confused. There are so many opportunities here, there are so many things I want to do. Life, after all, is about collecting different experiences. And doing something meaningful for my country is a nice experience I want to have. Still, nothing is decided yet. The only thing certain is that I’ll keep sharing my thoughts and experiences on this blog and the Start-up Review blog. The adventure has just begun!

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13
Jan

Oct 8, 2011: Naivasha Trespassing

   Posted by: Chip   in Kenya

On my first day in Kenya, I picked up a magazine in the car I was hitchhiking with, and was immediately blown away when I saw a photo of hundreds of thousands of flamingos gracefully crowding a lake pink.

- I want to see that. – I told the driver.

- It’s lake Nakuru, only 3 hours driving from Nairobi. But it costs a fortune to pay for the park fee and for a car to go in the park.

“Nakuru,” I told myself, “I’m coming.”

So, after 3 weeks in Nairobi, I was more excited for my first safari. “I don’t care about the big five, I just want to see the flamingos,” I told Asher. He traveled in this region few years ago.

- Don’t go to Nakuru. It’s expensive. Go to Naivasha. They have plenty of animals there. It’s free and you can do everything on your own. Well, it’s not really free, but I’m sure you will find a way to trespass.

- Are there flamingos?

- Yes. When I was there, lake Naivasha was pink.

Naivasha is half way between Nairobi and Nakuru. It took me roughly 2 hours to hitchhike there. The first person I hitchhiked with was kind enough to stop at the viewpoint halfway up the hill so that I could indulge myself in the extremely gorgeous panorama of endless savannah that runs between guarding mountains to meet the clouds at the horizon. The second person was overwhelmed by the fact that I could communicate in Swahili that he almost forced me to marry him.

Fredrick picked me up from downtown where all the banks are. Fredrick is not a couchsurfer, but brother of a couchsurfer. I sent a couch request to 2 couchsurfers in Naivasha. One girl replied saying that I could stay with her 2 nights for $15 (screw it, it’s not the couchsurfing spirit), the other, Wyclife, was in Nairobi. We met for a chit chat, and he put me in touch with his brother Fredrick. Fredrick works for a flower garden, and his wife is a teacher. They live in a rented room in a desert-like village around 15 minutes walking from town. It’s not too different from a student village in Vietnam where you walk through an imitation of gate and see a bunch of small rooms sharing a bathroom and toilet, with a pumping well in the courtyard decorated with tenants’ laundry. A curtain divided the 6m2 room into 2 parts, the inside has a bed where Fredrick and his wife sleep, the outside part is the living room-cum-dining room-cum-guest bedroom. It was pretty neat and convenient for a room of its size.

Accommodation secured, Operation Flamingo started. I wasn’t so sure of where to go, but I knew that I had to head to the lake, about 20km away from town. Many cars passing by but nobody picked me up, pretty strange for a country like Kenya. After almost an hour, a car, heavily secured with iron bars, pulled over. It was a health workers’ car, I have no idea why they were such security freaks. They interrogated me for like 10 minutes on the side of the road before finally squeezing me in the back.

- The lake is huge. Which camp do you want to go to?

- Any. I just want to see the flamingos.

- I don‘t know about the flamingos. But if you want to see the animals, we will take you to a place where you can see the animals without paying for the park fee. African way.

They turned left on a small bumping track into the jungle. The track was marked by tall flowered cactus with intimidating long thorns on two sides. Local people called that plant Jerusalem, I have no idea why. Once in a while, we saw a skinny African man walking with a bundle of wood on his head.

- It’s dangerous to walk here. Animals can attack you anytime. But we Africans don’t care.

They were right, there were a lot of animals: giraffes, zebras, wildebeests, etc. At first, I was intimidated by those giant giraffes, but those health workers told me to come up close as giraffes are peaceful animals.

On the contrary, the harmless-looking zebra can be quite aggressive. I most got a back-kick trying to pet one of them. My companions were really amused to see somebody so excited to see zebras. “We have seen plenty of them,” said they. “They are just wild donkeys.” The Swahili word for zebra is “punda milia” which literally means “striped donkey”.

Spotting hundreds of wildebeests leisurely grazing in a meadow not too far away, I ran like wild towards them, ignoring those health workers’ warning about the bush on the ground. Only when I stopped that I realized my legs were now dense clusters of sinister-looking thorns, each looked like a spike ball used by villains in Chinese martial art movies. They hold strongly to my flesh, refusing to be removed. It hurt like hell.

As they proceeded to go to work, the health workers left me nearby a small lake. It seemed to be a popular picnic spot for the local. A family was sleeping under a big tree. A couple was riding camel. Some men approached me trying to sell me a boat tour around the lake to see hippos. “Ha, liars. What kind of hippos can be seen in daylight like this?” I thought to myself but didn’t tell them. I politely refused, then found a rock in the shade next to the lake to have my brunch. Bread and peanut butter tastes a lot better in this setting. Full and content, I resumed my mission, still unsure of where to go. I walked back to the main road. As I was passing by all those animals, I visualized in my head what I would do if a lion or a snake jumped in front of me right now. Suddenly I heard some noise in a bush, some big animals were tramping heavily towards me. What could it be? My heart beaten fast, my legs froze, my mouth gasped. A herd of wild hogs appeared. One by one, they crossed the road in front of my nose. I tried my best not to make any noise to provoke them. Wild hogs attacking humans is not unheard of.

Before any disastrous accident could happen to a stupid defenseless lone wanderer in the wood, I was picked up by Solomon and Shobbana. Shobbana is a freelance photographer from India. Last year, she went to Kenya for a photoshoot at Kibera, Africa’s largest slum. There, she met Solomon. One year later, they got married and she moved to Kenya. Now she was 8 months pregnant, and just recently gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Think about it, it’s quite scary. You go to a strange country with the intention to stay for only few weeks, then you meet a complete stranger, somehow fall in love with him, get married and stay there for good. What if it happens to me tomorrow?

When they picked me up, little did they know that they would become my full protectors. Impressed by my story, they bought me tickets to visit Elsamere (named after the famous lioness Elsa), the old house of the late legendary naturalist Joy Adamson and her husband, George Adamson. It’s a beautiful colonial house with an amazing sun-lit courtyard, surrounded by a garden so big that it looks almost like a jungle. A small graveled path leads from the house to the lake. “Visitors are warned not to walk around here at night, as they might be attacked by hippos,” the housekeeper told us. We watched a surprisingly good 40 minute documentary about the life of Joy Adamson, then treated ourselves with a dozen different kinds of cakes served during high tea. I ate so much cake that I felt like I wouldn’t want to eat anything sweet again for the rest of my life.

On our way to the crater lake, I spotted a pink stretch flickering behind tall green trees and big dark animals, probably buffalos.

- FLAMINGOS! – I shouted.

Solomon turned around to find a way to the lake shore. Hundreds of thousands of flamingos, just like what I saw in the photo. But I soon realized that it’s impossible to take a photo that will do the view justice with my camera. Flamingos are very shy birds. As soon as somebody comes close to them, they all fly away. I ended up chasing them from one end to another trying to take a good photo of them, until the guilty feeling took over and I decided to leave these poor animals in peace. The scene was extraordinary. Imagine thousands of pink wings flapping at the same time, and then double the spectacle with the reflection on the lake surface. I was overwhelmed. I could stay there for hours looking at them, but Solomon and Shobbana urged me to leave before it got dark.

Having seen the flamingos, I wished for nothing more. But the kind couple took me to see the crater lake. Later they told me that I broke a number of rules at the crater lake resort, like running so fast down to the lake before the guard could tell me that I wasn’t allowed to. They then treated me to a wonderful dinner at Rayfish Camp, dropped me in town and only left when they saw that I was safe under Fredrick’s protection.

I don’t remember how I managed to pump some water from the well to cleanse myself, as my body refused to work after one long day on the road and in the bush. All I remember was that I went to bed with a smile on my face. Mission completed. I saw the flamingos.

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12
Jan

A Life-changing Decision?

   Posted by: Chip   in Travel Life

***Inspired from a conversation with my good friend Paul about his parents’ unexpected journey.

When I was still unsure about my ability to adapt to Violet’s place in Kawangware, my friend offered me to share with him his 2 bedroom apartment. I agreed, but then changed my mind because I wanted to challenge myself at Violet’s. Few weeks later, he was killed in the same apartment. Somebody broke into his house and strangled him to death. I was extremely upset, and couldn’t help asking myself what would have happened if I had moved there. Would I have been able to save him, or would I have been murdered myself?

Life is a strange combination of possibilities. Every decision you make affects your life in one way or another. Some decisions change your life for few hours, some decisions change your life forever. There are no right or wrong decisions, as nobody can travel back in time to try out the other option to see how it would turn out. But there are interesting and boring ones. There are decisions that will take you into unexpected journeys that you could never imagine even in your wildest dreams.

And, the journey that I’m on today is something that my 5, 10 or even 15 year old self could never imagine. Looking back, I’m grateful for every decision I have made.

It was when I decided to leave my hometown to go to high school in Hanoi, against my family’s wishes. It was a decision that made me struggle with the relationship with my family, but also a decision that changed me from a pampered kid to an independent girl who could support herself at the age of 15.

It was in Hanoi that I decided to organize Free Hugs campaign, the campaign that led to my first arrest, and almost got me expelled from school. Yet, it was also the one that introduced me to many other social activities which finally gave me a job offer in Malaysia.

It was when I quit my job in Malaysia that I started this trip. The job in Malaysia allowed me to travel to different countries. I realized that traveling isn’t that expensive, globe-trotting isn’t that impossible. I decided to give it a shot.

Had I not made any of these decisions, I would still be a shy country girl, computer illiterate, unable to speak English, afraid of the outside world. I would probably be studying at a university in Vietnam to become an accountant. My parents would probably expect me to get married as soon as I graduate to a nice boy from my hometown. I would have never traveled to Middle East. I would have never met all the awesome friends I have made. I would still believe that people in Africa are black because they get sunburn. And I would be reading about somebody else’s traveling and bitterly thinking that they must be awfully lucky to be able to do so.

It surprises me a lot when I ask people what decision has changed their lives, they can’t think of any. They always do the same things they are supposed to do: Go to school –> compete for a seat in universities –> look for a job –> get married –> have children –> grow old –> wish that their lives were different.  They avoid crossroads. They overlook opportunities. They refuse to open locked doors. You could pretty much tell how their lives would be in the next 10 years. Well, there is some comfort in stability and security, but I would hate it when I grow old and tell my grandkids about my life, they just go like: ”Aww, I don’t want to be like you when I grow up.”

So, how about you? Have you ever made a life changing decision, or has your life always been the same as how you and other people expect it to be?

And as Randall Munroe, the founder of xkcd said:

“Take wrong turns. Talk to strangers. Open unmarked doors. And if you see a group of people in a field, go find out what they are doing. Do things without always knowing how they’ll turn out. You’re curious and smart and bored, and all you see is the choice between working hard and slacking off. There are so many adventures that you miss because you’re waiting to think of a plan. To find them, look for tiny interesting choices. And remember that you are always making up the future as you go.”

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