All Good Things

After seven months, four continents and twelve countries, my world trip has come to an end.

I remember the first day of the trip as if it was yesterday. March 2nd. I had just arrived in Bangkok airport, and, following Lonely Planet's instructions, I was looking for fellow backpackers to share a taxi to Kao San Road. Talking to strangers wasn't really my strength back then. After all, don't we get told 'Don't talk to strangers' throughout our entire childhood? That is one of the things that has changed thanks to travelling - I am less scared and hesitant to talk to 'strangers'.

Another thing I think I've learnt is patience. Understanding different cultures and motivations helped me put myself in other people's shoes and become more patient with them. Coincidentally, as I became more patient towards others, I realized that I was becoming more patient towards myself. That was a very pleasant and welcome side-effect.

Besides becoming more sociable, patient and open-minded, I think the trip has also had a positive effect on my self-confidence. Not only because I have realized that, if necessary, I can deal with challenging, unprecedented and unforeseen situations, but also in the sense that I feel more trust towards life. I feel there is very little we can actually truly control. I feel that well-being lies in making the best out of everything we have at hand and the situations we encounter, as opposed to trying to force everything around us (including ourselves) into being something that it is not.

Many people ask me what my favourite country was. I usually say Nepal and Thailand. I adored Nepal for the activities I was able to do (spiritual, sportive, charity) and for the people I met when doing these. Thailand is a good country to start travelling when you're a travelling 'beginner' (as opposed to Burma or Northern Laos which are for more 'advanced' travellers as I was to find out).

I would like to thank everyone back home (i.e. in Argentina and Europe) for the messages and comments during my trip, thanks for all my new travel friends out there for becoming a part of my life.

Here is a very little summary of the countries I have visited (in chronological order).


1) THAILAND. A diverse holiday paradise. Good for inexperienced travelers, partying, scuba-diving, beaches, relaxing, romance, trekking. Relatively safe and with a good travel infrastructure.

2) MYANMAR (BURMA). A different planet. Is safe but requires good preparation and/or the ability to live without certain modern comforts (such as an ATM).

3) CAMBODIA. The country where breath-taking Angkor Wat is located. Local population is very kind and has suffered a lot in very recent history.

4) VIETNAM. Amazing landscapes. Famous among backpackers for its grumpy locals and its cheap beer (0,20 EUR)

5) LAOS. Not really an awful lot to do. Famous among experienced travelers for 'not being what it used to be' ('oh, man, all those idiot tourists kayaking and stuff...').

6) HONG KONG. Bright, clean, well-organized, sophisticated metropolis.

7) NEPAL. Can be a nightmare in terms of infrastructure, requires patience. Is ideal for trekking, Buddhist retreats and volunteering.

8) INDONESIA. Between 14,000 and 17,000 islands.

9) AUSTRALIA. In my opinion, the coolest place on earth.

10) CHILE. Doesn't seem very South-American, is a well-organized and prosperous country between the Pacific Ocean and the Andes.

11) URUGUAY. A bit like Argentina, but with much less drama, arrogance and crime. Great people.

12) ARGENTINA. What can I say. I can't summarize Argentina. Seeing my family was great, though.

Sydney: Seven Years Worth Waiting

Absolute Peace and Beauty on a Saturday morning after sunrise. Sydney's way of saying 'Welcome'.

After seven years of being apart and very far away from each other, one of the loves of my life and I have been reunited. I'm talking about Sydney, the city that took my breath away in 2002 and always stayed in my memory as one of the most beautiful cities in the world (together with Barcelona, Buenos Aires and Amsterdam).

Before I came to Australia seven years ago, my friend Wolfgang warned me:

'Cecilia, there's only one bad thing about Australia. Just one'.

He paused.

'You will always want to go back'.

And it's true. Ever since I left Australia after my two-month stay back in 2002, I have wanted to return.

I arrived in Sydney this morning at 7 A.M., on Saturday, while, for the rest of the planet it was still Friday. It was a bright, peaceful Saturday morning. Only a few runners, people walking their dogs or doing water sports were around. The city looked even more beautiful than I remembered. I took a video from the ferry, it's a little bit boring and it doesn't do justice to how beautiful it really is, but it might give an idea.

I will only be staying here for a few days, but I'll be staying with friends and I'll be staying in a city that I know and love. And this makes a huge difference in how it feels to be here.

A boring (but short) video of the Ferry trip on Sydney Harbour

Early morning weekend watersports in Sydney Harbour





Looking a bit tired after sleeping 2 hours on the flight Jakarta - Sydney, but happy to be seeing the Opera House again

Just Another Day For You And Me In Paradise

In Bali, near Uluwatu (in the background: An impressive cliff. Not on the picture: An impressive number of tourists and monkeys walking around chasing each other)

Bali is an island is an island is an island. Yes, that’s right. It’s an island three times, in three different ways.

Firstly, it is an island because it’s a piece of land surrounded by water. To be precise, it’s a volcanic island. The volcanic eruptions have not only given it birth and shaped its landscape. They have also provided the land with lava, which turned it fertile and green.

It is also an island of (Balinese) Hindu belief in the midst of a land of 200 million Muslims.

Last but not least, it is an island of Paradise. Of Happiness. Of Pleasure. Of Leisure. When you arrive in Denpasar Airport and you are sitting in your taxi on the way to your Resort of Choice, there’s a very big sign at the gate, which does NOT say “Welcome to Bali”. It does says: “Bali. The Best Island in the World”. But it could also say something like this: “Welcome to Bali. All we actually have here is tourism. We created this artificial paradise to boost the economy some decades ago. We smile all the time, every resort and souvenir shop looks like a temple, we play traditional non-stop drum-and-flute music that is supposed to make you feel relaxed even though it will just annoy the hell out of you, but we’ll pretend not to notice and keep smiling. In the high season, we’ll try to squeeze every penny out of you, whether you can afford it or not. After all, tourism is all we have, and we never know when it might get impacted by terrorism, a volcano eruption or a world-wide crisis."

If you read the above, you probably think I had a horrible holiday and I hate Bali (and Indonesia). But that’s not the case. I quite liked it, even though it did not feel very authentic. Indonesia was not the highlight of my trip, but then again my timing was not exactly perfect, with tourist super-peak-season and some degree of travel-tiredness as my companions. Ramadan, a bomb in Jakarta and an earthquake two days ago didn't make my timing appear any better, but I do not take it personally. I enjoyed good meals, good company, pleasant sight-seeing and a real holiday, so my memory is good.

This is not Bali. This is the Temple of Borobudur in Java (around 150 km away from the earthquake that happened this week)




Me in full backpacker gear at Sama's Cottages, Ubud, Bali. On the right: ever-smiling personneel in traditional attire.

This is me presenting the evidence of the fact that swimming is forbidden in Bali's main beach area, Kuta.

Where to now, Captain?

Leave the damn torch!
Come with us.
I am done with man.
Help!
Captain!
Where to now, Captain?
Home.

The final scene of the movie 'Frankenstein' from 1994. I saw it when I was in Bangkok. It feels like ages ago, even though it was only a few months ago. I remember I was staying at a very cheap hostel in the tourist area of Kao San Road, with a shared bathroom full of body fluids from various body parts, obviously from other people, spread all over. I don't remember whether I was passing through Bangkok on my way from Cambodia to the islands or from Burma to Cambodia, but it was quite at the start, when travelling was still a mixture of excitement and very hard work, sometimes fear.

The room was the filthiest room I had ever been in my life, but it had air-con, and a TV. I turned on the TV and saw the final scene of Frankenstein. Frankenstein is standing on some sort of iceberg and I think he ignites himself with a torch. That's the end of Frankenstein (don't know whether it was Frankenstein the monster or Frankenstein the doctor), for after that he's dead. The captain, who had tried to save him, climbs down from the iceberg, returns to his ship, and his friend/colleague asks him
"Where to now, captain?"

The captain looks very cool, all icebergs around him, they're in the middle of what seems to be the Arctic. He answers "Home".

Then the dramatic music starts as the camera goes back to burning Frankenstein on the ice-berg, and the ship moving away in between the icebergs and the movie ends.

When I saw that scene, I knew I would write something about it, probably in a far away future, by the time I felt it was time to go home.

Some Lies And One Truth About Bali

Bali, Indonesia, 11 August 2009. I am currently in Kuta Beach, the biggest, busiest and best(?) beach in Bali, where I have decided to put three Lonely Planet statements to the test. I want to find out whether it does or does not deserve the nickname 'Lying Planet' as it is so often called among 'real' travellers (the ones who know everything better).



Statement Nr. 1

Kuta Beach is a good place to make friends (see picture below).



From the Lonely Planet 'Bali and Lombok', page 7.

Statement Nr. 2

Kuta Beach. The beach where it all began - still the best. It offers the best beaches for sun, surf and sand holidays.

Statement Nr. 3

Candidasa, a former beach town that had its sand washed away recently and has no beach anymore (tragic story, really, for it still has the entire infrastructure of a beach town), has a neighbouring town called Pasir Putih, 5 km away, which has an idyllic white sand beach.


And here's the outcome:

Statement Nr. 1

Very untrue (obviously, otherwise I would hardly be blogging in the midst of the 'buzzing' nightlife of Kuta (though good wi-fi may make some people happier than mediocre conversations). The only people who talked to me today, all over Kuta beach, were local men active in the tourism industry, who, very bluntly put, made slightly obscene remarks which (let me be paranoid) made me think that they wanted to engage in sexual conduct with me - and get paid for it afterwards (or before, no way of knowing - I didn't ask for details).


Statement Nr. 2

Swimming is forbidden, and it says so on big red flags all over the beach. And, if you still want to do it, it may literally kill you because of the hundreds of amateur surfers whose out-of-control surfboards may hit you and break your neck. It was interesting to watch the many middle-aged couples sitting in their sun chairs or lying on their towels, staring at the sea, unable to enter it. I wonder if that's what they had in mind when booking the holidays to idyllic Bali.




Statement Nr. 3

It is true! See picture (how cool is the little island across the water, with the little tree on top!?)

Volunteering Nepal: What Is Your Dream For Your Child?

It all started on the streets of Kathmandu. I was walking around with my friend Federica. We had probably gotten lost again and were once again asking directions to get to Kathmandu Guesthouse. Then we met Jesse.

We had met Jesse, James and Tivoli during our stay in Bandipur, a few days earlier. We started chatting, each of us mentioned what they were planning to be doing in the coming seven days. Federica was traveling to India to volunteer in Calcutta; Jesse was going to a monastery in the West of Nepal, a monastery which was reachable only by three days of hiking after twenty hours by bus, to volunteer there. I personally did not have a plan, had been unable to move my flight one week forward, but I said I was open for ‘last-minute volunteering’, and was the only one to laugh about my stupid joke.

‘Well, you could join James and Tivoli in South-West Nepal. They’re doing a survey', said Jesse. Now, South-West Nepal, more precisely, a province called Bardia, its “capital city” being Gularia, is a very remote area, reachable only by long bus rides (long = 25+ hours), which are likely to be prolonged (by 12 to 24 hours) or interrupted due to landslides and strikes. What I didn’t know: Neither Internet nor cell phones worked there reliably, either, so I would literally have to follow my instincts to travel down south and find James and his team. I was feeling confident, idealistic and motivated, so I decided to go, leaving the next day. My trip was plagued by all kinds of hindrances and delays, but my instinct, some patience and some good luck got me to where I wanted to be.

Whereas flying over the Himalaya one day earlier actually ended up being a little bit like flying over the Alps, volunteering was an experience like nothing I’ve ever done or felt before.

The organization I was working with is called Global H.E.E.D. The acronym stands for the areas they want to help improve: Health, Education and Economic Development. Working together with local NGO’s and a team of interviewers and translators, we conducted a survey to find out the current situation of the rural population and identify areas of improvement, specially in health and education, to be followed up on next year, by the same organization, with a new team. The target group of the survey were mothers of four-year-old children and younger, as this would give essential information on the conditions in which the most delicate phase of life of the village's future was taking place.

Each of the surveys took around one hour and were conducted by the interviewers. We, volunteers had different tasks. My favorite tasks were measuring the dimensions of the house, measuring the length and weighing the babies/ small children and following the interview with the help of a translator. However, in order for the interview to be effective, something else needed to be taken care of, as well. Obviously, our presence brought lots of attention from the entire village. Pretty much all neighbors and all the kids in town came to watch. They were very friendly and curious, but for the interviews their presence was not ideal, as we had to make sure the interviewee can answer the questions by herself, without anyone listening or answering for her (specially husband and parents in law). So our task, sometimes, was to distract them, talk to them, play with them.

I was mostly in charge of the kids, often together with Sami. I think there’s almost nothing we didn’t try to keep them busy and entertained. In 40 degrees of heat, we played duck, duck, goose (a running game which they loved and made us all sweat amazingly). We drew all kinds of different animals and let them guess what they were (strangely, all our animals ended up looking like cows). I rediscovered the art of making things out of paper, such as planes (which unfortunately didn’t fly) and boats. Some of the kids also helped me do the measurements and walked with me through the pouring rain, holding the measuring tape and watching me write down the measurements and calculate the surface. I did not speak the local language, but I spoke with everyone in English, feeling that by the tone of voice, body language and face expression they can instinctively feel what you’re talking about. I have no idea whether my feeling was right, but no-one complained (and if they did, I did not understand them). Ideally, of course, volunteers should make an effort to learn the local language.

Most kids were energetic, enthusiastic and playful, and all of them surely special in their own way. But there was one boy who truly amazed me. We played together, just the two of us, during one entire interview. First, I made him a paper boat, which he seemed to really like and he played with. Then, I gave him a pen and showed him how to decorate his own paper boat with his own drawings. His way of holding a pen made me realize that it was probably the first time he was ever doing this. At some stage, the interview was coming to an end, so I had to go measure the house. To save time, I walked back to the house while writing the measurements in my notebook. When I reached the spot where I had been sitting with the boy, I put down the notebook and saw that he had just run back from the other room and sat down again. He had brought something from the other room: a notebook, probably his mother‘s. Then I sat with him again and saw how he was trying to write in that notebook with a pen he could barely hold. Together, we practiced drawing x’s and w’s and z’s. He was really good at it. That was an absolute ’aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah’ moment which literally made not only my time in Nepal, but my entire trip, seem worthwhile.

In summary: it was an intense week of very hard, unpaid work, and one of the most fulfilling, challenging, emotional and entertaining weeks of my life. And… needless to say, I can strongly recommend it.

Sami and 'our' kids. In the background: A typical rural village: Houses made of mud and straw, animals and families living under one roof. No running water. Toilet = field.

The clever boy who never stopped amazing me with his new paper boat.

Kids drawing.

A mother and her daughter. The last question of each questionnaire was "What is your dream for your child?"

Some Shots of Nepal

Cuteness

Friendship: With Federica in Baktapur

Hope: Our NGO Volunteering Team

Nature: Pokhara Lake