Journey or Destination

Dalat, Vietnam

I haven’t seen the crazy house yet.

Yesterday I recovered from the street food I'd eaten the night before. And while I'd do it again, it was delicious, it threw of my plans for my time in Dalat. Not that I have a schedule, but the first day I settle into a place I figure out what it is I want to do so that I can calculate how long I'm staying.

Sometimes I overestimate – like in Mui Ne; sometimes I underestimate and have to add days.

The thing is, I always seem to coordinate the amount of time with stuff to do. And part of this journey I'm on is to rest. To write. To think. It is difficult to get into any kind of rhythm when every few days I'm in transit and even when I'm still, I create an agenda full of things to see.

I think my habit of cramming everything in comes from a vacation mentality. When I’m working I get three or four weeks of vacation. So little time for me to travel to a new country and experience it in any meaningful way.

At the forefront of my mind is the understanding that I probably won’t be back and so I need to experience whatever it is I can while I'm there. That leads to a sort of frenzy. Moving hundreds of miles within the borders of the place I’ve already traveled thousands of miles to get to, so that anything that strikes my interest can be experienced.

That strategy has allowed me to experience a great many thing. But that isn’t all there is. Travel isn’t simply about a checklist waiting to be completed.

I know this.

And yet, the world is so full of amazing things to see. Things that only exist in certain geographical locations, or with certain groups of people. I want to see it all; experience it all.

Time is another consideration. Not simply the idea that a lantern festival or slow food festival or religious holiday is specific to a date or time...but that this year I’ve taken to travel, is significant. When in life will I have another opportunity to sit with zero expectations on my time and energy. When else will I get to decide that one day is a day only for meditation and another for writing?

My initial plan, if you can call my noncommittal musings about my year of travel, was to rest for three weeks someplace near water. Rejuvenate my mind and body and perspective on the world. Instead I jumped into travel mode, as much a habit as going to work every day….it is simply what I’ve done the last seven years. Travel was the gift I gave myself so I had to take advantage of it.

How do you break a habit you didn’t realize you had?

Part of my desire for this experience I’m having was to stay put for a little bit. Learn a place beyond the tourist pursuits. To consider a place as more than its sparkly parts. To talk to strangers. To minimize the “destination” mentality and instead, focus on the journey.

Wasted Time

“Crap, I wasted the entire day,” I thought to myself as I wandered down the strip in front of Pantai Cenang beach. I’d anticipated getting to Lankgawi around 5pm but I didn't reach my hotel until almost 7. I watched the sun settle into the horizon from the back seat of my Grab.

Langkawi bakso

Still, it wasn’t a wasted day. I have to retrain my brain and stop thinking about my time transactionally.

Back in my working life the transactional approach made sense. Most of my days were spent doing wanted to do. It was a zero sum game...two hours of this meant I didn’t have two hours for that. Talking to a stranger meant less time to talk to friends.

things I was required to do; so the bit of free time I had I was intent on doing the things I

That isn’t my life at the moment. My life at the moment isn’t compressed into the hours between 5pm and 8am. My time is just...mine.

So the “wasted” day my brain initially registered was actually a day that introduced me to Sonia- a woman who a few years ago sold her house, quit her job, and traveled for two years. We talked about politics, shared travel suggestions, and commented on our observations from our time in Malaysia. We even shared a Grab.

I hardly call that a waste of time.

“I wasted the day,” was a fleeting thought. I excised it almost immediately after it slipped into my brain. And just like that I felt lighter. Instead of lamenting the time “lost” I reflected on the experience gained. I smiled as I walked down the busy street, the odor of durian drowning out the scent of coals burning the fat of satay filled my nostrils as I searched out dinner.

An order of bakso (a soup I know from Indonesia) allowed me to have a conversation with a family from Shanghai (they always eat the papaya in Malaysia because it is sweeter than the ones in China), they encouraged me to visit the Bund in Shanghai when I visit.

a plain rotiboy

A leisurely walk in the other direction led me into a Rotiboy- something I’d never heard of. A fancier shop than the usual hawker centers I frequent. I was met with a smile and an urging to try a rotiboy and for 75 cents, why not? It is a sweet bread, about the size of my hand, with a thin cavern of melted butter inside. It was at once new and familiar.

More interesting than the food was the man who offered me a seat at his table- not unusual but quite unnecessary as the shop was nearly empty. Still I sat down and we began to chat. DiDi was most delightful company. He asked me about America and my travels, he told me about his work and favorite foods. Inspired by my curiosity, he insisted he buy me a teh tarik (a sweet tea concoction made frothier by pouring it at a distance from one container into another).

DiDi at Rotiboy in Langkawi

We exchanged Instagram information before he had to leave.

DiDi was not a waste of time either.

I am retraining myself to be leisurely.

I want to bask in the reality that I have no particular place to be and no particular time to be there. This allows met the greatest of appointments, the ones I don’t have yet.