Travel Archives - Page 11 of 39 - Maggie InkMaggie Ink

Home is where the sad is

August 8, 2011

Well, I’m officially back in Palm Springs, but I’m having trouble readjusting to life here.

Part of that is because I’m not returning to the home I left behind. Just before I began my year-long trip around the world, The Husband and I moved into a smaller, more affordable place. (It was pointless for him to live in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom condo by himself, and it was easier for us to financially manage a small apartment.) We moved into this apartment just a few days before I hit the road.

While I was gone, The Husband unpacked all the boxes I left behind. In order to squeeze everything into dollhouse-sized closets, he vacuum packed all of my clothes. He erected metal shelving units to hold everything that wouldn’t fit into drawers and cupboards, he developed a special folding system for the bathroom towels, and he found the most counterintuitive location for the coffee mugs. He really did a lot of work to turn this apartment into his home.

Toss me into that recipe, and it’s confusing. I’m a stranger here. I don’t know where to put away my pajamas, I can’t locate the can opener and I shut the shower door in a way that causes water to leak all over the floor.

Then there are the inevitable weird, awkward, wonderful bits about being back in the Western world. In no particular order:

* I forget the water here is safe. I hesitate to run my toothbrush under the tap. I instinctively ask for no ice in my drinks. I can’t believe I can drink straight from the tap.

* Toilets flush. (And you can put toilet paper in them!)

* I have more clothes than I know what to do with.

* When I have to charge my electronics, I can plug them in without a converter.

* I don’t have to carry a roll of toilet paper in my bag anymore.

* Most everyone speaks English.

* When I wake up, I know exactly where I am.

* Severe sticker shock. Everything feels incredibly expensive here, which makes shopping miserable. Plus, I look at price tags and mentally calculate how many rural Ugandans could be fed for the same amount.

* The abundance of everything everywhere is overwhelming. And those who take it for granted make me angrier than I ever thought possible.

* Things here feel complicated, crowded, commercialized.

So, yeah. This has actually been the most difficult terrain for me to navigate. Roaming gave me a direction I never had when I stayed in one place — so now that I’m officially in one place, I don’t know where to go. People keep asking me about my “plan,” and I honestly don’t know what to tell them.

I’ve been very depressed, to a point where I don’t even enjoy interacting with other people or leaving my house. I don’t even know how to be social anymore. I don’t like answering superficial questions about my trip, and I know I bore people when I talk in-depth about the things that feel important to me now. I know I’m supposed to be happy and content here in the U.S., but surprisingly, this feels like the most foreign place I’ve been.

On one of my first days back, a friend asked me a question about my trip. I started to respond, “Well, when I was in Thailand …” She cut me off and mocked me, saying, “Oh, so now you’re one of those insufferable people who starts stories by saying, ‘Well, when I was in Thailand …'” She made me feel like trash, as if I have to squelch the all experiences that have been so invigorating, motivating and challenging in the past year. That kind of thing makes me wonder why I came back at all.

To be clear, not everything is bad. I’m thankful for hot showers, Twizzlers, swimming pools and real coffee. It’s really nice to crawl into bed without checking for cockroaches first. And I love spending time with my real-life husband, not just an image on Skype.

Of course I’m grateful for all the adventure, fun and surprise I’ve had during my travels, and I don’t regret anything about this trip. It’s just that after spending 12 months pining for Palm Springs, I thought this part would be easier.

I wish they made a Lonely Planet guide for home.

Patent pending

July 28, 2011

Here’s my high-tech, 100-percent guaranteed method of keeping creepy crawlies out of my clothes and shoes while in the jungle.

A ginormous Ziplock — Amazon-sized for freakishly huge Amazonian bugs.

Shopping for weapons in Argentina

July 21, 2011

Pity the unlucky fool.

Everybody warned me that Buenos Aires would be dangerous.

Watch out for pickpockets! Liars! Thieves! Sketchy men in trench coats!

So I was on guard as soon as my bus hit BA city limits — even though I’d already spent three months backpacking around South America without any problems.

Even the owner of my hostel was the purveyor of doom. “Be careful out there,” he said, his mouth firmly set into a grim line. “Not safe for a girl alone.”

With that in mind, the illuminated streets transformed as I walked them. Elegant architecture leaned menacingly over the sidewalks. Each alley looked more shadowy than the last. Even the jolly cook at a nearby pasta restaurant looked downright criminal as he hoisted a fat knife to slice through sheets of ravioli.

When I happened upon a gun store downtown, I had no choice but to walk inside. I figured it was fate.

The walls were lined with glass cases that ran nearly floor to ceiling. They contained enough firearms to fuel several James Bond movies. Maybe a Jason Bourne one too. Several items under the front counter looked suspiciously like landmines.

It was a small, cramped shop, so I didn’t get far before a few employees descended and asked if I needed help.

At least, I think that’s what they were saying. I only know essential Spanish, like how to order coffee, ask for the toilet or say “Those drugs aren’t mine.”

“Hola,” I said to the shopkeeper, furiously flipping through my purse-sized English-to-Spanish dictionary. Unfortunately, the words I was searching for were’t listed.

“No hablo mucho Espanol,” I apologized. “Donde puedo comprar … pepper spray? Por favor?”

I got a blank look.

“Er, spray de pimiento?”

Nothing.

It was time for me to pull out all the stops. It was time for charades.

I gave an Oscar-worthy performance, playing the role of an innocent woman walking down the street as well as the brutal attacker who punches her in the head. Just as the thief is about to make off with her valuables, our heroine pulls pepper spray from her purse and shoots him in the eye, sending him kicking and screaming to the floor.

I looked up from where I was crumpled on the dirty, stained tile. I was slightly out of breath.

“Spray de pimiento?” I tried again.

“Ah,” said the crowd, which had gathered in a full circle around me.

One of the gun shop employees disappeared behind a curtain. When she returned, she handed over a plastic package of pepper spray.

“Mace,” she said.

Ah. Mace.

For the record, I was never attacked or pickpocketed anywhere in the world, though some thieves ransacked the luggage compartment of my bus in Thailand. And the only thing I had stolen? My pepper spray.

One hundred awesome things: #25-1

July 16, 2011

My friend Monica said most people pass years with nothing to show for it except pay stubs and broken resolutions.

I didn’t want to do it that way. Too many years of my life blend into one another.

So last year I traded in my briefcase for a backpack and set out to travel the world. One year and 19 countries later, I ended up with hundreds of adventures and new memories.

I’ve been posting some of my favorites. Part one is here. Here’s part two. Click here for part three.

And now, I present to you the fourth and final installment of One Hundred Awesome Things I Did During My Year Abroad.

25. Crammed myself into an ancient jar.

24. Crossed the Mekong from Laos to Thailand on a tipsy canoe.

23. Gave alms and fistfuls of rice to monks on the street in Luang Prabang.

22. Attended a Ugandan circumcision festival.

21. Took a spontaneous night bike ride through Malacca, Malaysia. Rang my bell frequently and inappropriately.

20. Worked with formerly abused elephants at a sanctuary in Thailand.

19. Taught an English class in Rwanda.

18. Took a boat to Jordan.

17. Saw the sun set over Angkor Wat.

16. Visited the oldest bar in the world.

15. Discovered that kimchee dumplings are the best. food. ever.

14. Slept in a bamboo hut on the beach.

13. Tiptoed through pharaohs’ tombs.

12. Watched a cricket match.

11. Ate a dessert that includes shaved ice, coconut, grass jelly and beans. And it was good!

10. Biked through Thailand to see a stunning Buddha statue that brought me to tears.

9. Enjoyed an Ethiopian coffee ceremony.

8. Saw a baby giraffe snuggle with a mommy giraffe.

7. Had my eyebrows threaded in Little India, Kuala Lumpur.

6. Ditched the guidebook and asked people for directions and advice instead.

5. Walked through the Amazon rainforest on suspension bridges.

4. Woke up with a goat in my dorm room. (Not on purpose.)

3. Handed out balloons to kids all over the world.

2. Became the person I always wanted to be.

1. Came home again.

Now it’s your turn.

What do you want to do with the next year of your life?

One hundred awesome things: #50-26

July 15, 2011

I actually loathe the term “bucket list,” but it’s the easiest way to summarize what I need to say. Let’s face it — “Things I Would Like to See, Experience and Accomplish Before I Die or Am Too Old to Enjoy Them” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

Basically, I set out in July 2010 with a lot of things to see and do as I traveled around the world. Some of them seemed so far beyond my grasp, I didn’t even dare to dream about them. Some of them weren’t even on my list, because I didn’t know they existed yet.

Call them what you want: Hopes. Wishes. Goals. To me, they just became life.

In one year’s time, I had more than 100 incredible experiences. I posted 25 of them a couple days ago. Yesterday I posted 25 more. Below is the next installment.

How many of these are on your Things I Would Like to See, Experience and Accomplish Before I Die or Am Too Old to Enjoy Them list?

50. Witnessed two deadly puff adders doin’ it on a hiking trail. I think it’s the equivalent of a black cat crossing your path … while it is humping another black cat.

49. Hiked through a Malaysian jungle to see the world’s largest flower.

48. Studied yoga at an ashram.

47. Learned that wildebeest are real.

46. Waded in holy waters.

45. Hunkered down in a hut with African women, learning about their lives.

44. Sampled the goods at a rum distillery in the Peruvian rainforest.

43. Watched the World Cup finals in South American bars.

42. Hiked up Table Mountain in Cape Town, South Africa. Took the tram down.

41. Tangoed in Argentina.

40. Cared for hundreds of monkeys at a sanctuary in Bolivia. Was only attacked once.

39. Had dinner cooked by Bedouins in the middle of the Little Petra desert. They roasted eggplant and potatoes on hot coals, and served it with canned beers they pulled from their coat pockets.

38. Drank a shot called a “shit bucket.”

37. Rode a camel.

36. Tried SCUBA diving. Hated it.

35. Bought fresh sugar cane on the street.