Sydney, Second Impression

 I wrote this when taking a break on my way to the Museum of Contemporary Art.

July 5.  I'm sitting down on a bench for a minute to write because the beauty of being on one's own schedule is doing such things on a whim whenever one is feeling like it.  

Second impression:  Sydney may not be endearingly dilapidated, but it is breathtakingly gorgeous. The historic district is preserved yet polished.  As I walk through the botanical gardens towards The Rocks area, the streets are lined with a mix of taller contemporary buildings and one- or two-story intricate churches, art galleries, and old facades that have retained their original charm and adorable quality.  I want to get lost here for days - to pick a different area to take the train to, walk the streets, find a park bench, settle into the scene, and breathe the city life around me. 

And, hello! There are benches. Without homeless people sitting on them screaming at you about killing people. I'm sorry if that's not a PC or sensitive way of putting it; it's just my experience.

It strikes me how present I have been so far - over 80% present, which is all you can ask for, really.  While some things here are common to the Western world I knew before, portals of familiarity through which I can travel to stay on track in this novel landscape, everything is different enough that it sucks me in and grabs all of my attention.  There is nothing familiar enough that I can tune it out and use that space to be somewhere else. 

Everything is new - the direction that the cars drive, the balcony decorations on the facade behind me, the intensity of the sun, the happy mix of accents assaulting me from all directions.  So for now I am here, letting Sydney fill every cell of my being.

Sydney, First Impression

I wrote this on July 4 while enjoying my first Sydney cappuccino and waiting to check into my hostel.

July 4.  Funny how July 3 just disappeared somewhere into the realm of airspaces and time differences.  Anyway, I have just arrived in SYDNEY, and I know that I shouldn't, but I have trouble not comparing it to my only other solo travel experience of Nepal.  Sydney lacks the quaintness, the childish and endearing appeal of the broken-downness of Pokhara.  It is urban to a fault.  It is developed.  It is its own thing, not trying to fit into its big sister's high heeled shoes.  The people here are no people of the mountains.  Perhaps they are people of the ocean, but it is too early to tell.  Right now, they are still just the faceless people of Sydney.  Of course, there are many escapees from expat paradises, but they don't expect you to be interested in their back story - because that's not what most tourists (or any other tourist except me, for that matter) are here for.

In my only other quasi-solo traveling experience (Nepal), you could identify a tourist a mile apart, and everyone loved each other for it.  I don't stick out like a sore thumb here because of my hair and skin tone.  Perhaps the side of the street that I walk on will give me away eventually.  The air here feels less clean than Spain, with its dusty cars coming at you from the (wrong!) side of the road.  Its advanced state of development breeds a deliberateness  that is borderline cocky, a self-assurance that is borderline arrogant.  And yet it is neither of those, so you can't quite fault it.

Ah, let's give it another hour.

Being a Tourist vs. Being a Traveler

Even thinking about this topic is cliche, but if you have been around the world a little, I'm sure you have wondered at some point how to be a better tourist - in other words, a traveler, world citizen, what have you. 

Sure, it's easy to go to a beach or mountain town where the sands and cliffs take your breath away, the shops offer mementos that are cheap and pretty, and the bars serve up drinks that are strong and sweet. But how do you know if it's the real thing? Is this how the locals dress and what they drink when they go home at night after a hard day's work entertaining visitors? 

And does it matter? If you find a place that is nice, what you find there is at least to some extent unique to that place. So maybe that place is not representative of the entire country, but you're still getting to know some other corner of the world. 

Consider Khao San road in Bangkok, Thailand. A very wise ecology professor once explained that it is a positive feedback loop of "things tourists like." For example, elephant symbols on clothing and room decor, whole traditionally a Cambodian element, have seeped into the everyday objects here because for many visitors, the elephant is a symbol of something authentically Asian. So even if you're technically in the wrong country, all things elephant still sell well, so they continue to propagate.

In this way, Khao San road morphs into its own self-sustaining entity where elephant-stamped items are privy to every corner, and in a way, that is real.

But for me, that's not enough. Here in Cambrils, expats from India, Pakistan, and Thailand sell purses and clothing local to their home countries. I'm sorry, but that is in no way a Catalonian souvenir! So what do you do? 

Here in Cambrils, I was lucky enough to connect with a cousin of a good friend who is originally from the area. We went to a barracks party - kind of like a more chilled-out version of Outside Lands where people don't push each other, drinks are 2 euros instead of 9 bucks (and admission is FREE), and you don't have to hold on to your spot by the stage for dear life so you don't lose all your friends when you go to the bathroom. After I decided that I will forever dislike music festivals, this one was actually a supremely pleasant experience! I loved the sense of community, self-awareness, and a feeling of being at home and fitting in that permeated throughout the crowd. One of the girls explained that she would run into high school friends in the bathroom line and catch up on all the events that happened since they hadn't seen each other in 3 years. 

The first step to enjoying an experience with a language barrier is to have a good attitude and smile about everything.  There is a lack of verbal cues about whether you are having fun, so you have to fill in with body language. And everybody wants to mutually make a good impression, so your body and mind really rally to the cause. I had an awesome experience because I wanted to have an awesome experience, and it really works like that! We stayed out until 4:30 am, and because I told my body not to be tired, I wasn't tired! I didn't even have a headache after alternating tequila, champagne, and beer all night. 

The second step is to think critically and ask lots of questions. I used every opportunity to find out about the culture, dating life, what the young people did, how quickly they grew up, etc. It was a chance for me to learn history and anthropology and a chance for my new friends to practice their English. Win-win! 

The third step is to get off the beaten path. I was one of maybe 5 foreigners at this huge party, and there is no way I could have tracked it down on my own. No tacky elephant symbols anywhere in sight! 

I also did this when I rented a road bike that was 3 times nicer than any bike I have ever touched and did a 50 km loop around the surrounding foothills. I've forgotten how quaint Europe is! The tiny compact streets look like they are cut out of a picture book and the farmland is vast and welcoming. The villages were dead quiet because I was out during the siesta, but all the surroundings are markedly non threatening. No stray dogs chasing me, and the few people I saw were either friendly or indifferent, immune to the hoards of road bikers who pass their homes each day to get their fix of exercise and sightseeing. Doing different activities is a great way to see a place - I was much closer to my surroundings than if I saw them by car or bus (and would have slept through most of the experience in that case 😛)

The final step is to keep putting yourself out there and trying to communicate! There are few things I love more than taking my hodgepodge of languages and trying to have a conversation with someone who grew up speaking something entirely different. Trying to speak the language can also earn you major bonus points, and trying to put yourself out there in other ways can have other rewards. When I wanted to get a bike, I bugged and bugged the shop owner about helmets until he agreed to loan me one for free. They typically don't rent helmets (only for children), and buying one for 20 euros for a 1-day outing seemed a little steep. I finally got a free kids' helmet to use for the day - an element that was vital to my ride. 

It turned out that one of the employees of the local dive shop grew up in the same town and spoke English AND French, so the drive over to the marina was a great way to pick his brain and tell him a little about America. 

My impression of Catalonia so far: the people are spunky and self-aware yet mellow, friendly, and welcoming, and the countryside is beautiful, picturesque, and quaint in a typically European way. Adding it to the list of places where I hope to return :)

Dolla dolla bills ya'll

Ok, here's the post you've all been waiting for: postcard beta!

1. Email me or comment here if you'd like a postcard. (It's cool if I haven't talked to you for like 3 years, I'm just psyched somebody is reading my blog and will be happy to send you a postcard anyway).

2. Indicate if you would prefer Barcelona or Australia. 

3. This part is important: on August 15, send me a follow up email with your current address. You all know (unless we haven't talked for 3 years) how awesome I am at using the postal system, so you gotta give me time until I'm back in the states and having travel withdrawal to complete fill out and mailing of said card. If you were hoping that I would incur some international postage fees on your behalf, just compare a late half-assed postcard with boring postage to no postcard at all and take your pick. 

Ok, time to request away :) 

Just the basics!

In my opinion, the two most important questions to ask when you arrive in a new country are: where do you put the toilet paper and can you drink the tap water?

In terms of the first question, when I arrived at the Barca airport, each stall had a suspiciously large trash can in it, and the characteristic smell was ever-so-slightly more prominent than the smell in its American counterparts. However, when in doubt, flush it down, so I went for the "ignorant tourist" approach and hoped for no cloggage.

In terms of the second question, I spotted some drinking water fountains outside the restrooms and similarly went for the "drink tap unless (until?) told otherwise" method.

The third most important question is probably, "Where the heck is my bus stop?" This one was resolved by dumb luck more so than sheer ignorance. After doing a couple of laps around the only part of the airport parking lot that had obvious potential to contain the bus terminal, I gave up and tried to go back inside to the information booth. Unfortunately, all the escalators connecting me to the information booth were one way in the wrong direction, but I magically stumbled onto my bus stop once I decided to look for another way to get back inside. You will arrive upon what you're looking for as soon as you stop looking, huh?!

Getting too comfy!

I just got my MS diploma and could very well be done with school forever if I want to be. I'm off to a 10 day trip to Cambrils, a beach town near Barcelona, followed by a 6 week tour of Australia's eastern coast and north central national parks. After that I'll be back to San Francisco -- quite possibly the best city in the world, to live with awesome people and start a full time job that I'm really excited about.

Yet I was bawling my eyes out at the airport.

What gives???

I am getting way too comfortable in the Bay Area, and I'm not entirely sure how this happened and what it means. Baz Lurhmann once said in his famous sunscreen speech that you should live in California once, but leave before it makes you soft. It's just so GOOD that I feel antsy going anywhere else in comparison.

But no, that's not it. I love getting dirty and uncomfortable and pushing myself and exploring new places. I thrive on change, yet in between change I fall so in love with the present that I'm resistant to give it up in the next moment. Buddha would NOT approve!

Take that and pair it with the fact that I did so much growing up at Stanford. I decided to come here in a more fully formed way than being sent off to play student in a college dorm for 4 years, did a lot of emotional work, got myself a big kid job. It seems so abrupt to leave a place where so much learning has happened because that means accepting that the learning is done and now I'm supposed to be fully equipped to apply my knowledge out there in the world. But wait! I feel like I JUST finally opened my mind and started learning things. I don't necessarily have more questions, but this chapter involved some major transformations in emotional maturity and I think I'll be living out their aftermath for a long time. I also feel like I could stay planted right where I am and continue thinking, learning, and changing, and I don't need to distance myself from all things familiar to initiate that process.

Take THAT and pair it with the fact that I built a great network here full of wonderful people to whom I can turn for support, so shouldn't I just hang out all summer and continue to solidify my family and friend relationships and enjoy the wonderful benefits?

But hey, one of the main things there is to know about life is that timing is always a little bitch so ready or not, I will take this vacation, be grateful for it, and live my face off!!

Need a break from the bustle?

Then check out Cafe Turtle in Delhi's Khan Market. This is NOT the authentic India experience, but it IS a nice place to get a latte and a panini and curl up with a book newly purchased from the Full Circle bookstore, downstairs.

We sat here for hours during our first visit before exploring the rest of the market. Once you are sufficiently jittery and literary, head out to look for fairly nice, albeit somewhat more "touristy" gifts or souvenirs in almost any price range (I walked into a boutique where the price tags on the jeans made me too scared to convert to $'s). I did, however, pick up a couple of nice graphic T-shirts for 4 bucks each. The seller kept dropping the price when I wasn't even trying to barter, but honestly felt like I should stop being materialistic and buying so much stuff, and eventually it was so cheap that I just gave in.

Funny how with the exchange rate, you could buy so much in India for a fraction of the price you spend on food in a day in America, but at the same time you begin to feel that owning things is so excessive that you walk away only getting Christmas presents for half of your besties.

Then after being back in the States for a couple of weeks, some of us begin to regret not having been more materialistic in India, wishing we had more sweet swag, while others come back with a renewed awareness into how unnecessary all this stuff is. Something to think about before/during/after embarking on your trip!

Anyway, get to Khan Market by metro, a long walk from Pahar Ganj, taxi/rickshaw, or the multiperson buses of which I only have a very vague memory. If you have more experience with these, do share!