It's just about that time of the year again. The part where you take a step back and evaluate the meaning of these minutes that have come to fill the spaces in between January and December. I have to admit I kind of considered shooting past this post in attempts of avoiding being too cliche, but in the end decided that there are enough times in my life where I don't sit down to appreciate what I have and where I'm going for fear of being mundane and there's no reason to be ashamed that I follow an established benchmark of progress. So here I sit.
It didn't hit me until the way home just how much has happened this year. I think back to last New Years and Ruby's drunk escapade at Ashley's in Bellingham and I can hardly believe it is the same person let alone year. This year I graduated university, I traveled the Mediterranean, I moved halfway across the world and sidestepped a major life plan for the first time in my life--following a whim that had no other explanation other than it felt right to do. And all along the way I've met amazing people who have helped to open up and own who I am, and who hopefully I have been able to touch in return. Not to mention, I successfully completed my new years resolution of keeping up with this blog. Overall, I feel pretty proud.
But I know I'm far from being over. If there's anything this year, these friends, these loves, these places have taught me is that I am only human and far from being a perfect one. That there is so much work still left for me to be done, and while that is scary and hard and oftentimes too much for me to swallow I know I have to keep on trying. Because there is no one who is going to do it for me and if there is a reason for my unhappiness it is because I'm not fighting for it. Because I haven't taken these moments to step back and value what I have in my life to its fullest extent.
It's been hard this holiday season as I focused a lot on myself and how the season should measure up to my ridiculous expectations, sometimes at the expense of actually feeling Christmastime joy. And now I sit here and think I wish I gave more, I wish I said more. I wish I called more, I wish I loved more, I wish I bought less. But most of all I wish that I had stopped thinking about myself and being away from culture and home and more on how blessed I truly am and owning the decisions I make, realizing home is a place I can take and make wherever I am in the world. Because too often I forget to tell myself how much I love my life. How happy I really am. And it's times like this that I am reminded of the steps still left to be taken in my progress.
I'm so blessed. Truly, I wish I shed more tears over how thankful I was for my health, for my friends, for sustaining health, for my family, for the fact that I can come home to a warm house and people who love me. And I'm thankful for all of the privilege that I don't even realize I have sometimes and take for granted, like being able to travel and gain higher education. Sometimes I feel I need to see those sentences in writing just so I know they are real.
And so I sit here on this last day of the year, writing a post that hasn't decided whether it would rather wear a party hat or an apology draped over its head. And maybe that's what this liminal space of New Years Eve is supposed to be--a mix of the two. A realization of our limitations and faults, and a promise to do better. A spirit of awe and love for what tools we do have to work with, and a plan to continue to progress. And most of all a thankfulness in our heart for all that we have.
But this isn't a place to dwell. This isn't a place to build a home on a foundation of "I wish I" and "What ifs." It's a place for me to sit myself down and be happy. Be healthy. Be loved. Be everything that I already am and have with a full consciousness about it. To try better, to be better. To be actively engaged in living life for the sole purpose of being born into it and trying to make that statement as loud, proud, and full of vitality as possible. This is a place to celebrate what I have done and use that momentum and confidence to make life for me and others around me even better.
So this is my synthesis of this reflection and resolution space: I love who I am. And I love that in a year I will look back and hopefully still love the person that I am. And I hope that I will always continue to write down these lessons and experiences to remind me of that journey and of the path still left to walk.
Happy New Year, friends.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
Warm Christmas Kindergarten Fuzzies
For the past month in my kindergarten classes we have been practicing a simplified version of 'A Christmas Carol' as written by my colleague Alina. These past few weeks have been chill/hectic as we tried to stuff the Christmas spirit into our classrooms and finish these plays so we could send them home as New Year gifts for the parents in little packages. And finally, after a lot of work (mainly on Alinas end), we have finished. Though Christmas has passed I still feel like passing along that Christmastime happiness by sending along our recording of them. They are far from being fluent but they are enthusiastic to learn, which is what really matter at this point. So enjoy!
We also did a santa dance with the kids, the original of which you can see here (dream english guy again). This made my heart sing, too cute!
We also did a santa dance with the kids, the original of which you can see here (dream english guy again). This made my heart sing, too cute!
Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and soon a Happy New Year. Wishing you the best from Istanbul, sendng all my love and well wishes wherever you may be in this big world :)
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Poem Collaboration
So its been a while since I last wrote. There are lots of excuses: I broke my laptop, lack of internet access at my house, trying to be more productive--but at the end of the day I still have a new years resolution to keep with this blog. And being so close to my one year successful completion, now is hardly the time for slacking off.
These past few days Hamid and I have been delving into poetry together. I never realized how important it was to share that with a significant other until now, and it is quite an experience. Anyways, with Hamid being more of an oral poet and me being a written poet, we've taken to him speaking poems and me writing them down as closely and fast as I can in his own words. This is Hamid's first time writing english poems so its kind of exciting to hear him put those feelings he has always expressed in persian into a language I can understand without translation. He recently was inspired to write this poem for me (I know, spoiled), after which we went back and read and re wrote and talked about what he wanted it to mean and how to best express that. I've never collaborated on a poem before so it was rather interesting, and I thought, worth sharing. So here it is, without further introduction. I'll be writing quite a bit this next week to get my 4 posts a month quota done before the end of the year, so gear up for a lot Christmas-time Sydney ranting :)
_________________________________
"The First Child"
by Hamid Hoseinzade and Sydney Odell
She talks about her dark places inside
the parts I haven't explored yet, or
maybe the parts that never
come to the surface--
that have never come to daylight.
I look into her blue eyes, deeply
and I can't believe there is any darkness
under that storm after the ocean--
but I can guess that
not every part of her is as white
as that porcelain skin that betrays her.
Sometimes she is so poetic
but sometimes she is like literature.
I can read the inner conflict of war and peace in her,
though I know she prefers peace
to being right.
Bi-sexual, bi-lingual, bigeminal
I can feel the duality in her
which rises from the
antagonistic battle between
our reality and the
adventure she chases down the rabbit hole of her own
inner complexity.
Sometimes I wonder
if she is just bi--
what if she is "multi," if these
two black and white parts of her
are merely the two opposing ends
of her soul's colorful spectrum.
Once I mixed science with emotions
in the container of cynicism,
catalyzed by ego--
the reaction of which
resulted in the birth of logic,
whose eyes are limited in
recognizing wavelengths between
400-700 nanometers.
None of us can see the other waves
we can just feel their polarity--
either as heat
or as a growing tumor inside our body.
I see people as waves too,
some of us overlap--
seeing the visible light,
feeling the invisible darkness...
I always knew that the
villain was merely a
framework for justification
made in the mind of the storyteller.
Sometimes the prince of darkness
can be an illumination for others
when spoken on the tongue of a fallen son's experience.
I wait for the story to
unfold the truth
from the shadowed side of my prism.
These past few days Hamid and I have been delving into poetry together. I never realized how important it was to share that with a significant other until now, and it is quite an experience. Anyways, with Hamid being more of an oral poet and me being a written poet, we've taken to him speaking poems and me writing them down as closely and fast as I can in his own words. This is Hamid's first time writing english poems so its kind of exciting to hear him put those feelings he has always expressed in persian into a language I can understand without translation. He recently was inspired to write this poem for me (I know, spoiled), after which we went back and read and re wrote and talked about what he wanted it to mean and how to best express that. I've never collaborated on a poem before so it was rather interesting, and I thought, worth sharing. So here it is, without further introduction. I'll be writing quite a bit this next week to get my 4 posts a month quota done before the end of the year, so gear up for a lot Christmas-time Sydney ranting :)
_________________________________
"The First Child"
by Hamid Hoseinzade and Sydney Odell
She talks about her dark places inside
the parts I haven't explored yet, or
maybe the parts that never
come to the surface--
that have never come to daylight.
I look into her blue eyes, deeply
and I can't believe there is any darkness
under that storm after the ocean--
but I can guess that
not every part of her is as white
as that porcelain skin that betrays her.
Sometimes she is so poetic
but sometimes she is like literature.
I can read the inner conflict of war and peace in her,
though I know she prefers peace
to being right.
Bi-sexual, bi-lingual, bigeminal
I can feel the duality in her
which rises from the
antagonistic battle between
our reality and the
adventure she chases down the rabbit hole of her own
inner complexity.
Sometimes I wonder
if she is just bi--
what if she is "multi," if these
two black and white parts of her
are merely the two opposing ends
of her soul's colorful spectrum.
Once I mixed science with emotions
in the container of cynicism,
catalyzed by ego--
the reaction of which
resulted in the birth of logic,
whose eyes are limited in
recognizing wavelengths between
400-700 nanometers.
None of us can see the other waves
we can just feel their polarity--
either as heat
or as a growing tumor inside our body.
I see people as waves too,
some of us overlap--
seeing the visible light,
feeling the invisible darkness...
I always knew that the
villain was merely a
framework for justification
made in the mind of the storyteller.
Sometimes the prince of darkness
can be an illumination for others
when spoken on the tongue of a fallen son's experience.
I wait for the story to
unfold the truth
from the shadowed side of my prism.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Happy Leghsan Thankyou giving
I never realize how much I miss America until it comes to a holiday. I suppose that makes sense, holidays are designed to make you come together with friends and family and are deeply rooted in cultural traditions you all share which can be hard when you are away from both. Nevertheless, its always fun to create new traditions and look back on past years celebrations.
This year I wasn't expecting anything special. Thanksgiving isn't really an important holiday to me, and minus the food its been a long time since I was actually formally with family celebrating so it wasn't too bad that I am abroad. So when I got an invite from a fellow American co-worker to come to Thanksgiving dinner with his family, I was kind of mixed in my emotions towards. But always game for a good time, and willing to go to great lengths for free delicious food, I commandeered Hamid and Farhad to come with me. If anything else, introducing them to American tradition would be fun in itself.
I'm kicking my past apathetic self now because last nights festivities were actually really excellent. Went all the way out in the outskirts of Istanbul to their house, but it was beautiful and felt immediately like Little America. Kids running around everywhere, people lounging around making small talk, tables of appetizers and drinks keeping everyone occupied until dinner was served. The christmas tree was even up so you could start thinking into the future about even greater holidays. I was really impressed.
It was a really international group too. We had people from Armenia, Kazahkstan, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Turkey, the US, England. And all of them had a story to tell about how they ended up in Turkey, which is always the greatest part about meeting people--finding out how they came to be. I talked with this one woman for probably an hour about all the work she does through her church for refugees coming to Turkey from around the middle east and french speaking Africa. Listening to her made me wish I had more working-hour days to do volunteer work like that. Whether it was the flowing wine or the fact that it was genuinely a great group, the conversation flowed naturally and I didn't find myself annoyed really by anyone there.
Of course the most important part of Thanksgiving is the food, the focal point of the entire day. I didn't realize how much I loved Thanksgiving food until I found myself staring at a table of turkey, sweet potato pie, pumpkin soup, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, green been casserole--the works. It was absolutely brilliant, very homemade traditional food and lots of it. Hamid's eyes glazed over as he was told he could eat one of the turkey legs, a dream of his for a while. My heart stopped when I bit into the sweet potato pie. We loaded our plates several times, forgetting the table of desserts still left to be eaten. And then it came time for dessert and no one was ready to slow down piling food on their plates.
I'm a big sweet tooth person--its the taste I crave most in the world, so I was over the moon when I saw the multiple pumpkin pies awaiting to become one with my mouth. Then Sindhuja brought out her apple crisp and I thought I had never put something so delicious in my mouth. But all of that amounted to nothing when I bit into the sweet, sweet pecan pie. Hamid and Farhad were instantly in love, shocked that they had finally found a nut they couldn't in Iran. With a dollop of fresh whipped cream on the side, it was absolute bliss. My head started to ring from a sugar coma after eating all those pies, but the degree of happiness I obtained made it so worth it. I have a feeling I will be baking a lot more of it this Christmas season so I can continue to make the boys sufficiently fat. It's the least I can do as an American, I feel it's my duty.
Anyways, after we ate the children put together a little performance in a stereotypical adolescent way. Lots of dancing crazy and cartwheels, craving the attention and thrill of being watched and loved. They also sang a nice little Christmas song which put me right in the mood to come home and set up the Christmas tree today.
One of the kids in particular, little 1 year Ailyn (my co-workers youngest daughter), caught Hamid's attention right away. The littlest, whitest, most aryan thing you've ever seen--she spent the entire night going and stealing food from everyone's plates while looking straight into their eyes as if to say "what are you going to do about it? I'm adorable, you can't stop me." Hamid told me repeatedly through out the evening that he was going to steal the little girl and bring her home, his baby fever was raging so bad. Blonde girls--just breaking middle eastern hearts everywhere :P
Fat on food and wine, people started to trickle out around 10 so they could be safely in their beds when the food coma hit. Being an hour and a half journey back to the house from Florya, I'm glad we left when we did--otherwise you might have had to carry my ass home. My very fat Thanksgiving ass. But we arrived safely, still running on the high of celebrating a great American holiday without the after-thought of genocide. Overall, a great night. Happy to be in Istanbul, but I love being reminded of the things I love about my country. Something I forget all too often.
So Happy Thanksgiving everyone, wherever you are
![]() |
| The Three Amigos |
I'm kicking my past apathetic self now because last nights festivities were actually really excellent. Went all the way out in the outskirts of Istanbul to their house, but it was beautiful and felt immediately like Little America. Kids running around everywhere, people lounging around making small talk, tables of appetizers and drinks keeping everyone occupied until dinner was served. The christmas tree was even up so you could start thinking into the future about even greater holidays. I was really impressed.
![]() |
| Jizz in my mouth |
![]() |
| The face of desire. |
![]() |
| Pecan Pie! |
Anyways, after we ate the children put together a little performance in a stereotypical adolescent way. Lots of dancing crazy and cartwheels, craving the attention and thrill of being watched and loved. They also sang a nice little Christmas song which put me right in the mood to come home and set up the Christmas tree today.
![]() |
| He couldn't get enough of her |
Fat on food and wine, people started to trickle out around 10 so they could be safely in their beds when the food coma hit. Being an hour and a half journey back to the house from Florya, I'm glad we left when we did--otherwise you might have had to carry my ass home. My very fat Thanksgiving ass. But we arrived safely, still running on the high of celebrating a great American holiday without the after-thought of genocide. Overall, a great night. Happy to be in Istanbul, but I love being reminded of the things I love about my country. Something I forget all too often.
So Happy Thanksgiving everyone, wherever you are
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Goodbye, pride.
So there are days when I love my job. Kids are well behaved, they are receptive to new phrases and vocab, they come up and hug me and are super sweet. And it's days like this that make me go to great lengths to actually help them to learn English, even if it means putting my own dignity on the line.
A little bit of background. For the past few weeks Alina and I have been teaching kids phrases surrounding morning routines (I brush my teeth, I get dressed...etc). And lucky for us we had a song from Dream English that helped the kids to memorize the phrases. However now, moving onto a new book with new phrases revolving around schoool activities we don't have such a song to help them learn, which we decided to remedy by making our own.
If there is ever a time where I asked people to be jealous and gentle with my feelings, this would be the time. This video is ridiculous, on so many levels. You should see the amount of outtakes we have as we tried to take ourselves seriously while singing the song. We realize this is not the next biggest hit, but we did have a lot of fun experimenting with how to continue to make learning fun for kids. So this is an exploration of that dedication we have to the kids at the expense of our ego so we could use the same song for continuity. Be kind, but also feel free to laugh your ass off.
To understand our version though, you first have to watch the original we copied it from. Also please try and ignore the fact that this man looks like his number #1 hobby is touching children. I don't say this because he is a man who enjoys working with small children. Actually, that's what draws me to his songs because I think all too often male roles in early childhood education are invisible or have a negative stereotype. But I do just feel sometimes that he is awkward and creepy in his delivery, and trying to work past that. Regardless, please just overlook this tangent and appreciate the catchy tune.
Now, you are ready for our version. Please keep in mind that all credit for idea, filming, and editing goes to my lovely colleague Alina Gui. I am merely a willing puppet :) Now, let the embarrassment begin!
A little bit of background. For the past few weeks Alina and I have been teaching kids phrases surrounding morning routines (I brush my teeth, I get dressed...etc). And lucky for us we had a song from Dream English that helped the kids to memorize the phrases. However now, moving onto a new book with new phrases revolving around schoool activities we don't have such a song to help them learn, which we decided to remedy by making our own.
If there is ever a time where I asked people to be jealous and gentle with my feelings, this would be the time. This video is ridiculous, on so many levels. You should see the amount of outtakes we have as we tried to take ourselves seriously while singing the song. We realize this is not the next biggest hit, but we did have a lot of fun experimenting with how to continue to make learning fun for kids. So this is an exploration of that dedication we have to the kids at the expense of our ego so we could use the same song for continuity. Be kind, but also feel free to laugh your ass off.
To understand our version though, you first have to watch the original we copied it from. Also please try and ignore the fact that this man looks like his number #1 hobby is touching children. I don't say this because he is a man who enjoys working with small children. Actually, that's what draws me to his songs because I think all too often male roles in early childhood education are invisible or have a negative stereotype. But I do just feel sometimes that he is awkward and creepy in his delivery, and trying to work past that. Regardless, please just overlook this tangent and appreciate the catchy tune.
Now, you are ready for our version. Please keep in mind that all credit for idea, filming, and editing goes to my lovely colleague Alina Gui. I am merely a willing puppet :) Now, let the embarrassment begin!
Thursday, November 14, 2013
6 life lessons I learned on the road
Takes finally settling into a place and deciding to make it home to realize how grateful you are for the lessons you learned along the way. Just some observations on living the adventurous life.
1. There is always a Plan B
And no, I'm not talking about emergency contraception (although really, I wish that statement were true internationally). Traveling requires a lot of effort. Well, not always, but to a certain extent you're looking for a little bit of spontaneity and a little bit of stability (unless you are Ashley Hogrebe who lives a spontaneous adventurous life to a whole new level). But as all things in life, rarely do things turn out like you expect. Whether its your hostel shutting down in Crete, or gypsies stealing your purse in Amsterdam, or locking yourself out of your apartment in Paris at 1 a.m--shit doesn't always go according to plan. And while I used to freak out in my OCD mindset back in high school if things didn't happen right the first time, traveling has almost taught me to automatically assume plan A is faulty. I have learned the art of adapting quickly and being able to pick myself up and get things done. I have learned how to be prepared and how to trust people to help me when I have no clue what I'm doing or where I am. Most of all, traveling has converted me from a flight to a fighter mentality--it's given me confidence in myself to be able to stand up and think logically to fulfill my basic needs. A quick condensed crash course in adult shite.
2. Your body is capable of so much more than you think it is
This sounds like some annoying thinspiration quote, but really. Being born into a first world country of excess, I am often of a privileged mindset where I don't realize how much I indulge myself. Whether it's driving a half mile down the road to the gym, or thinking I need to have seconds in order to really feel "full"--it's only when I start traveling that I really move past this and start learning about my body and its limits. I've now learned how long your body can survive on a baguette and still take you around a city. I've come to find that my body is capable of walking and hiking and exploring for 10 hours a day when conserved resources cuts out public transport as an option. I've learned there are many different ways you can feed your body, spirit, and mind. Sometimes it takes stepping out of comfortable norms and excess, getting down into the bare bones to really appreciate the simplicity.
3. It's not actually that difficult to make new friends
It's really not that difficult, especially when you travel. There is always that bunk mate at the hostel, or that fellow American in the tour group, or that englishman at the pub that you meet and immediately call friend-dibs on for the rest of your trip. In normal circumstances, it would seem like a very needy friendship but as neither of you has company while traveling--you immediately jump in to fill that need. Tied at the hip exploring, they might not be the people you would chose to hang out with at home, but that's not why you came to travel is it? 90% of the people I've met in the places I've visited I still have some type of contact with--a big perk of traveling when you think each new friend is a new potential trip to visit. Plus its a great way of meeting other like-minded people and practicing social skills in different settings with different kinds of personalities.
4. Get your nose out of that travel book
Don't get me wrong, know why you are going to a place. Have a plan, have some important "don't miss" points, but I think a trip is too often spoiled when you make a list of things you have to see and try to relive someone else's experience rather than exploring for yourself. I hate going to a place and seeing the same type of tourist with their face buried in their Rick Steves literature to really look around and just take that side street that looks interesting. Obviously you are going to see the Acropolis, but would you have found that delicious frozen greek yogurt if you hadn't let yourself wander? Maybe not. All I'm saying is let things happen, figure it out along the way. Ask people in your hostel, walk around and decide what you want to do when you're there and in the right mood. Not having a plan is a lot less scary than you think it is.
5. You're never so popular as when you're on the road
Seriously though, if you've ever thought "oh, no one loves me. I'm all aloneeee WAHHHH"---go travel. All of those cliches you've heard about distance making the heart grow fonder and not missing what you had until its gone, they are completely and one hundred percent true. Everyone wants to be your best friend when you're traveling. You are their vicarious adventure, you are their dream they wish they had the courage to act out. I don't say this to mean that you are obviously the shit because you travel, but the fact remains that friends and family do notice you a lot more. So enjoy the ego boost a bit.
6. There are pros and cons to traveling alone
I've traveled in several different ways. In an organized group, in a disorganized group, with friends, and alone and there's honestly something to be said for all of these different options. But I've actually done the majority of my traveling alone, which I love for a lot of reasons. One, people are full of excuses. If I were to wait around for someone to join me, I might not have seen half of the places I've seen. Two: I like myself. That sounds dumb, but it's true. I genuinely love spending time by myself--so to me there isn't anything weird about walking around a city alone in my thoughts and experiences. And three: You can do whatever you want. There really is so much freedom in traveling alone. Want to eat at this really cheap doner place? No need to consult. Want to go for a day trip to Ibiza? Book the trip! Don't feel like paying to go into some pretentious famous museum? Don't worry about it! There's no one you have to answer to or accommodate for, you can plan your trip as you want. Conversely, there are a couple of downsides. One: you get lonely. As much as I love myself, there are definitely some times where I just want...someone to share it with. Whether its a romantic sunset or some cool street performance I would like to reference in an inside joke someday--its nice to be able to be with a friend. Two: it's cheaper. Hotels, sharing food, sharing clothes. And for a penny pincher like me, that's important. And three: there is always someone to have your back. When sketch situations arise (ahem, Barcelona), they are there to hopefully help you (if they are a true friend). You have to take on extra precautions when you travel alone, so its nice to be able to let your guard down a little more knowing someone else is with you. It really depends on your mood and personality, as well as what kind of trip you are looking for but there are things to be said for taking life by the horns and diving into an adventure by yourself.
1. There is always a Plan B
And no, I'm not talking about emergency contraception (although really, I wish that statement were true internationally). Traveling requires a lot of effort. Well, not always, but to a certain extent you're looking for a little bit of spontaneity and a little bit of stability (unless you are Ashley Hogrebe who lives a spontaneous adventurous life to a whole new level). But as all things in life, rarely do things turn out like you expect. Whether its your hostel shutting down in Crete, or gypsies stealing your purse in Amsterdam, or locking yourself out of your apartment in Paris at 1 a.m--shit doesn't always go according to plan. And while I used to freak out in my OCD mindset back in high school if things didn't happen right the first time, traveling has almost taught me to automatically assume plan A is faulty. I have learned the art of adapting quickly and being able to pick myself up and get things done. I have learned how to be prepared and how to trust people to help me when I have no clue what I'm doing or where I am. Most of all, traveling has converted me from a flight to a fighter mentality--it's given me confidence in myself to be able to stand up and think logically to fulfill my basic needs. A quick condensed crash course in adult shite.
2. Your body is capable of so much more than you think it is
This sounds like some annoying thinspiration quote, but really. Being born into a first world country of excess, I am often of a privileged mindset where I don't realize how much I indulge myself. Whether it's driving a half mile down the road to the gym, or thinking I need to have seconds in order to really feel "full"--it's only when I start traveling that I really move past this and start learning about my body and its limits. I've now learned how long your body can survive on a baguette and still take you around a city. I've come to find that my body is capable of walking and hiking and exploring for 10 hours a day when conserved resources cuts out public transport as an option. I've learned there are many different ways you can feed your body, spirit, and mind. Sometimes it takes stepping out of comfortable norms and excess, getting down into the bare bones to really appreciate the simplicity.
3. It's not actually that difficult to make new friends
It's really not that difficult, especially when you travel. There is always that bunk mate at the hostel, or that fellow American in the tour group, or that englishman at the pub that you meet and immediately call friend-dibs on for the rest of your trip. In normal circumstances, it would seem like a very needy friendship but as neither of you has company while traveling--you immediately jump in to fill that need. Tied at the hip exploring, they might not be the people you would chose to hang out with at home, but that's not why you came to travel is it? 90% of the people I've met in the places I've visited I still have some type of contact with--a big perk of traveling when you think each new friend is a new potential trip to visit. Plus its a great way of meeting other like-minded people and practicing social skills in different settings with different kinds of personalities.
4. Get your nose out of that travel book
Don't get me wrong, know why you are going to a place. Have a plan, have some important "don't miss" points, but I think a trip is too often spoiled when you make a list of things you have to see and try to relive someone else's experience rather than exploring for yourself. I hate going to a place and seeing the same type of tourist with their face buried in their Rick Steves literature to really look around and just take that side street that looks interesting. Obviously you are going to see the Acropolis, but would you have found that delicious frozen greek yogurt if you hadn't let yourself wander? Maybe not. All I'm saying is let things happen, figure it out along the way. Ask people in your hostel, walk around and decide what you want to do when you're there and in the right mood. Not having a plan is a lot less scary than you think it is.
5. You're never so popular as when you're on the road
Seriously though, if you've ever thought "oh, no one loves me. I'm all aloneeee WAHHHH"---go travel. All of those cliches you've heard about distance making the heart grow fonder and not missing what you had until its gone, they are completely and one hundred percent true. Everyone wants to be your best friend when you're traveling. You are their vicarious adventure, you are their dream they wish they had the courage to act out. I don't say this to mean that you are obviously the shit because you travel, but the fact remains that friends and family do notice you a lot more. So enjoy the ego boost a bit.
6. There are pros and cons to traveling alone
I've traveled in several different ways. In an organized group, in a disorganized group, with friends, and alone and there's honestly something to be said for all of these different options. But I've actually done the majority of my traveling alone, which I love for a lot of reasons. One, people are full of excuses. If I were to wait around for someone to join me, I might not have seen half of the places I've seen. Two: I like myself. That sounds dumb, but it's true. I genuinely love spending time by myself--so to me there isn't anything weird about walking around a city alone in my thoughts and experiences. And three: You can do whatever you want. There really is so much freedom in traveling alone. Want to eat at this really cheap doner place? No need to consult. Want to go for a day trip to Ibiza? Book the trip! Don't feel like paying to go into some pretentious famous museum? Don't worry about it! There's no one you have to answer to or accommodate for, you can plan your trip as you want. Conversely, there are a couple of downsides. One: you get lonely. As much as I love myself, there are definitely some times where I just want...someone to share it with. Whether its a romantic sunset or some cool street performance I would like to reference in an inside joke someday--its nice to be able to be with a friend. Two: it's cheaper. Hotels, sharing food, sharing clothes. And for a penny pincher like me, that's important. And three: there is always someone to have your back. When sketch situations arise (ahem, Barcelona), they are there to hopefully help you (if they are a true friend). You have to take on extra precautions when you travel alone, so its nice to be able to let your guard down a little more knowing someone else is with you. It really depends on your mood and personality, as well as what kind of trip you are looking for but there are things to be said for taking life by the horns and diving into an adventure by yourself.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Trains
I remember the way you told me about the first time
Death kicked down your door without an invitation,
expecting more than a honey bribe to pass on by.
Death kicked down your door without an invitation,
expecting more than a honey bribe to pass on by.
the way how the moon seemed dimmer and
how your hands felt smaller and the wind felt thicker so
that every time the angels tried to
bury your hands in gifts they just came up empty.
The way the salty rivers running down your cheeks
could never quite capture the overwhelming essence of your sea-heart,
but how one day you were going to use them to sail right
into that golden orb
and demand its jewels to for one more fleeting moment with
those you loved.
I remember the way you said bullets move faster than
prayers,
the way you said praying to each other was
more powerful than praying to the one we had made out of
clay
and so we spent all night
and so we spent all night
creating new angels out of sounds we heard the faucet make
as it methodically dripped in our bathroom sink,
our synchronized heart beats
washing away the existence of a paradise lost.
This is our truth.
This is our truth.
Trains never come on time,
someone should have told you that.
someone should have told you that.
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