Jeffrey’s Journey

Travel Tantrums and Tirades- No. 4 in a Series.

Please stop asking me that uncomfortable, repetitious question: Are you married? If you do ask that question, please, and I’m kindly begging you now, don’t follow up with that look of incomprehension when I say that I’m not. This makes me uncomfortable. Stop it.

Please stop reminding me it’s about time for me to get serious and think about a family; as far as I’m concerned, and I should know better than you, it’s not. Don’t try to introduce a friend to help my cause, or yourself for that matter. I am not a pity case. And if I were, I am a pity case who isn’t looking to get permanent with anyone. A little fun, ok, but when you utter the marriage word, any warm feelings I had about our conversation quickly turns into suspicion and ultimately ends with me walking away thinking you are stupid. Don’t try to shackle me in those same shackles you are wearing. And whatever you do, don’t try to introduce your daughter to me (unless of course she comes with an unbelievable dowry, or she’s just hot). While I am completely flattered, If I had any decency at all, I would be obliged to warn you as to what kind of door you’re knocking on here: I’m unemployed. My only recent accomplishments include being a professional bum in your country and a handful of other countries.  And unless you flash a picture of a nipple every so often during our conversation, I’ll likely have the attention span of a bottle rocket. This shouldn’t sound like marriage material to you. If you had any good intentions to yourself, your friends, or your daughter, you’d do a 180 right now and never return to the topic of the M word.

All I’m saying is that it scares me. It makes me feel behind. It makes me feel old and being pushed into a phase of life with my heals dug in the dirt. Albeit sometimes I do think about how nice it’ll be to be married to Michelle Branch, I have too much to experience on my own before I can share myself with someone else.

When we were kids, we probably thought of that far away someday when we would be married. Well, now that day is well in sight, rapidly approaching for some people that are my age. For others, it’s already in the rear view mirror. With some time, maybe someday I’ll be ready for that day. Hell, one day I might be so ready and excited to fully embrace the prospect of marriage I’d want 2 or 3 wives. Just not right now.

Tantrums and Trades, No. 3 in a Series.

Back on the sticky keyboard. So this’ll be brief.

Because I’m on a limited budget as well as limited in time in some ways, I sometimes feel like going one place means I have to give up another because there are so many places in this world I’d want to see. I was once asked the question on my trip: is there one place in the world you wouldn’t want to go? I thought briefly and answered ‘no’. No way.

When I started, I had a list of countries that I had to go to. This list has been revised over and over during the trip as I hear about new places and alluring stories. If anything, this list has grown and outgrown my budget. In the back of my head, in nights where I can’t fall asleep, I’m always thinking of what I have left vs. what I still want to do. I hate that.

Early during my trip, I always thought I was going to go to the Philippines. As my trip went on, my interest in the Philippines grew stronger but I decided to cut it out just like I decided to cut out Australia. With limitations such as time, money, and opportunity costs, I felt it was the right decision, although it was a hard decision. The Philippines was the harder pill to swallow.

I have my reasons for the decision and I’m convinced they are the right ones. But does it suck a little? Yeah. The reasons are a combination of financial, my mood at the current time, what opportunities I think I will have in the future to see these destinations, and what countries left on the itinerary where I think this trip may be my one shot at seeing. I can’t be sure my itinerary will look like 2 weeks from now, but hopefully I can just… go.

I know that that there’s more to going to a country than setting foot in it’s borders. The entitlement of saying ‘yes, I’ve been to -fill in the blank with a country’ is not granted by just being there, but being with the people. It’s the experiences with other travelers, the locals, and gaining insight on how life is lived by the people who live there. It’s not really seeing the famous sights, but seeing the sights that aren’t showcased in a brochure, indigenous sights that can happen anywhere; in a shop, down an ally, or in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. While I am on a budget, I have to make a better effort and not forget why I’m there in the first place.

After a grueling train ride, I’ve arrived in Bangkok once again. But this time, there isn’t much to write about because I’m just here taking care of some errands, so, I’ve started this series out of boredom. I mean I love to travel, and I love talking shit about stuff of all sorts, so this combines the best of both worlds for me.

Travel Tantrums and Tirades- First in a Series.

I know on my quotes page, I have a quote that says something like- Travel isn’t glamorous, something to that effect. I want to say that this doesn’t have to be true, because it can be. Some people can afford their private planes, or even first class can be considered glam. Some people can stay at the Hiltons, Sheratons, Shangra-La’s, and so on. Some people are rock stars and well, rock stars travel and have a girl in every port, and that’s glamorous.

But as for the way I’ve been traveling, known as backpacking, this kind of travel isn’t. Basically, for a third of the time, I’ve been living like the equivalent of an upper class bum by U.S. standards. Again, I’m not complaining, because this still isn’t the bare-bones type of travel some kids are on. For the most part I get hot water and beer! Hot water, ladies and gentlemen, is a luxury. You might not think you can have a cold shower, but when you hit that magically disturbing point of filth, you’d be surprised what you’d shower in. I’ve actually showered in water that wasn’t coming out quite clear; it was more ‘muddy’ than usual because the pipes were stuffed up.

I’ve slept on bed sheets that obviously hasn’t been changed since the last hair-shedding beast rented the room. I know this because my hair is very short and black. On a single bed I once found long strands of blond hair, 3 inch black hair, and the notorious curly party hairs. Actually, having your sheets clean without stains (these are really common), or dried blood, and a pillow case that doesn’t smell like it’s been marinated in drool, is also a luxury. More often than not, the bed in the just checked-into room will have one or more of the above ingredients. Once, I even stayed in a room that reeked of urine so bad, it was a relief to step into the shared bathroom.

The bathrooms deserve a whole new blog on their own, but I’ll simplify it and say that I’ve flushed my own feces with a pale of water more times than I can remember. Most of the bathrooms I go into, I absolutely WILL NOT enter without shower sandals. I’ve even shitted in ‘toilets’ where if you looked down, you can see straight through to the ground. One particular bathroom was so dirty and dingy, I was scared of getting infections by merely walking in because I had open wounds from my scooter accident.

For the past month or so, my body has been the Bellagio Buffet for bed bugs and different kinds of mosquitoes. They just can’t seem to get enough! Sometimes, I’m covered in bites and swellings in all the exposed parts of my body (it could be worse I suppose). I’ve gotten used to sleeping with geckos and other slimy things crawling on the ceiling above me just like I accept that I’ll be paying the blood tax that will inevitably be collected, no matter how much bug repellent I put on.

I’ve walked incredibly long distances because I refuse to overpay by a couple of cents (literally a few cents, but everything is relative and I don’t want to feel like I’m being ripped off) and bought things for many times than what it was worth (again, I hate being ripped off!). Battling the very constant stream of characters that want to squeeze a few dollars out of you each day will wear you down, no matter how much you think you can take.

Probably due to me being such a fat ass and my love for food, I’ll eat slightly more threatening and questionable foods than most. Being on the budget, and eating in budget restaurants and food stalls in streets most of the time, I’ve been completely desensitized to finding hairs in my noodles and bugs in the fried rice. Maybe this is because I’m a dirty ass too.

But all this was, in retrospect, fun! As well as funny. It was a more raw experience. My take is, if it’s good enough for the locals, its good enough for me. I mean, anyone can have the same sterilized experience of fresh white towels and rose pedal baths in every country. But I don’t have the means or the desire to travel like that. I much prefer the occasional bug in my food and the ubiquitous dog shit I have to step over on my side walk. Again, not complaining, just saying that this shit ain’t so glamorous. But it sure is an adventure.