Living In The Present

Lately I've been thinking about missed opportunities. But not the kind that exist in the 3rd conditional (all of you that aren't grammar nerds just have to look that up :) ). Although there is an element of past regret to it, I'm talking about future missed opportunities. This was mainly brought on when I was thinking about how I'm probably not going to be able to live and work in New Zealand ever. This is because, just like Australia, New Zealand has an age limit on those who apply for work & holiday visas (one has to be 30 when they apply).  I'll (most likely) never get to go to New Zealand on a work & holiday visa, because I'm more than likely going to grad school in August. This is the first time where my age has dictated whether or not I was able to have a travel experience of any sort.

The funny thing is I would have never even thought about doing a work & holiday visa in New Zealand if weren't for the fact that I've been hearing people talk about it here in Australia. Nonetheless, it's been causing moments of subtle anxiety, which then causes me to have an inner dialogue which entertains the idea of deferring graduate school for a year so that I can fully complete my work & holiday year in Australia and start one in New Zealand (please don't tell my mom). I know going to grad school is for the best, but it's going to be difficult controlling my travel bug for a couple of years.

Overall, this is just an example of my being stuck thinking in the past and/or the future, and not in the present. There is a reason that that Lao Tzu quote is just below the title of my blog: I have a tendency towards over-analyzing and over-thinking things. I have very few regrets about my life up until now. However, the only time that I DO regret is the time that I spent in my hometown after I taught English in China and before I left to teach English in Chile. Nevertheless, I acknowledge that this period of time was essential in my self-development, and on a more pragmatic level, I wouldn't have been able to go to Chile if it hadn't been for the money I saved working in my hometown.

I'm not whining, and I apologize if that's what it does sound like. I will be the first to admit that I am privileged to have been able to live the life that I have, and I'm truly grateful for that.

Getting older is obviously just a fact of life, but the older we get, the more we find out that there are things we can no longer do. But damn, if it isn't a pain getting older sometimes!

Cambodia: Battambang (September 2014)

In my Lonely Planet guidebook, I had read that Battambang, a city a few hours southwest of Siem Reap, had some sort of inexplicable charm, and that travelers should make an effort to stop over (I paraphrased there). In the bus terminal in Siem Reap, I sat down next to another foreigner.  Being that there were several buses in the terminal and that the time for my bus’ departure was quickly approaching, I turned to my fellow backpacker and asked, “Do you know which bus is going to Battambang?”  He said, “I don’t know, but I’m taking the same one.”  I said, “OK, I’ll go ask.”  After getting the customary SE Asian response (the word “wait” usually accompanied by a palm (or even two!)) indicating that I should not be so hasty, I relayed the message to my new friend. He responded resignedly but firmly, “That’s what I thought they would say…”.  From his accent, and his apparent frustration with the lack of punctuality with transportation in SE Asia, I ascertained that he was more than likely German (he was).

As a result of having assigned seats, we didn’t sit next to each other on the bus (which only left the terminal 10 minutes late).  However, after an uneventful bus ride, we were greeted by a pack of wolves---no, not those kind of wolves!  A group of about 20 men all but pounced on us as we exited the bus, all asking us if we had accommodation and trying to get us to come to their hotel, guesthouse, or hostel. We cowered as only defenseless prey can. I had reserved a hostel, and even though I had not asked for a pickup, a representative of my hostel was inexplicably waiting there (more on this character later).  As I got in his tuk tuk, my German friend came up to us and asked how much I was paying per night for the hostel.  After I told him how cheap it was, he hopped in the tuk tuk with me.

After arriving at the hostel and getting everything sorted, we decided to walk around the town and get some food. 

We could tell almost right off the bat that this town lacked charm.  Comparing Battambang with the other Cambodian river town I would visit (more on Kampot later) is like comparing a cardboard box to a vase of flowers. 

My German friend and I walked around town for a little bit, looking for a bite to eat. Afterwards, we went back to the hostel and just drank…a lot.  It proved to be an interesting night as well.

At some point before we had left for dinner, a few “thugged out” (I’m sure there is a better way to say this) Cambodian Americans waltzed in and started ordering almost nothing but high-end gin and tonics. After we came back from dinner, they were all pretty blitzed. I guess their story was that they had been living in LA, but got in trouble with the law via some gang-related activity, and were deported.

It was strange to see how disconnected they were from Cambodian culture. In Cambodia, especially in Battambang for some reason, it’s pretty common to see BBQ rat. But these Cambodian American dudes thought it was disgusting. One of them kept on saying, “It’s not f*cking chicken, maaan!”

A little later in the night, a middle-aged gentleman showed up. It turns out that this guy had worked with Cambodian Americans in California (I think it was actually in LA, too, but I can’t 100% remember). Anyway, he knew the American Cambodian dudes. He and the owner of the hostel, who was an exceedingly intelligent - and at this point exceedingly intoxicated - talked about the general situation of many Cambodian Americans. The older gentleman argued that it was the fault of many Cambodian Americans that did not switch their green cards over to visas (or vise versa…can’t quite recall) when they were considered refugees by the United States government. The owner of the hostel was arguing that it was the system that failed a lot of them. Anyway, it ended up being a really interesting night.

The next day, a group of us went on a tour to a spot where they executed people during the Khmer Rouge (it was one of many sites that was used to execute people, as I mentioned in my Phnom Penh post). However, this area now triples as sort of a holy shrine, memorial, and tourist destination. It took a while to climb up, but the view from the top was magnificent. That area in Cambodia is really flat, so we could see seemingly forever. And with the chants coming from the monastery below us, it was truly a moment stuck in time.

Deejay was the tuk tuk driver I mentioned towards the beginning of the post. He was certainly an interesting character. He was the transportation man of the hostel, and he was always smiling and laughing (which could best be described as a barely contained chuckle). His nickname was “The Mad Monk”, because he used to be a monk (many young men in Laos and Cambodia join a monastery for an optional amount of time, and some join permanently). The man even had a business card!  He was definitely one of the people I remember most vividly from my trip.

Hilariously enough, the morning I was supposed to catch my bus to Sihanoukville, Deejay’s tuk tuk broke down, and he had to call ahead to the bus station to ask them to delay it so he could bring me there. It caused me just a bit of anxiety, but ‘ol Deejay eventually pulled through by calling his tuk tuk friend to come take us.

Australia: Welcome to Adelaide!

I went out for a couple drinks last night with my new co-workers. When I bellied up to the bar to order another drink, this older Australian posted up next to me and said, "How long ya been waitin'?" By that time it had been a couple minutes so I said as much. He then immediately yelled, "'EY, BARTENDER!!!" and he came running over. He then turned to me and said, "Don't be afraid to get their attention." I said, without being condescending, "I guess I was raised on politeness and patience." He said, "Ah, that American shit won't work here, mate." 

I've been back in Australia for two weeks already, but this was a perfect re-introduction.

I'm going to be in Australia working for the next few months before starting graduate school in August, and I'm sure I'll have a few stories to tell even during that short time.

Since I chose my base to be Adelaide and not Sydney or Melbourne, the question often comes up in conversation, "Why didn't you choose Sydney or Melbourne?"

I have spent about two weeks total in Sydney. For one, Sydney is just too expensive, and part of the reason I came back to Australia was to save money! Second, I get the impression that there is a lot of vanity and superficiality among the 20 and 30-something crowd in Sydney. A sort of constant race towards status. That aspect kind of casts a shadow over the possibility of meeting like-minded people.

Melbourne, on the other hand, is an amazing city. I would have loved to have lived there for a few months. It has a surfeit of music, art, and culture. It has wide open parks in the middle of the city, which often serve as grounds for their regular music festivals. However, while I was there I talked to several backpackers who said that it took them months to find jobs. Since I'm only going to be in Australia for a few months anyway, I decided that that was not a viable option.

So, here I am in Adelaide!

It's difficult to give a good impression of Adelaide, even though I've already been here for almost three weeks. Some of the reason I find it difficult is probably because most of the time that I have been here was spent in a relatively isolated area of Adelaide, Port Adelaide. Furthermore, almost all of my time outside of Port Adelaide was spent handing out resumes. But now I'm living in the the CBD (Central Business District) of Adelaide and have a job, so hopefully I will start making some money, so I can go exploring and having some fun on the weekends.

My impression is also a bit confused, because March in Adelaide is MAD March. That's because Adelaide hosts a load of festivals, including WOMADelaide (World Of Music, Art, and Dance), Future Music Festival, and Fringe. WOMADelaide features music, art, and dance acts from around the world, Future Music Festival is an electronic music festival, and Fringe is a performing arts/busker festival that specializes in "odd" acts.

So, all of that has given me an impression of Adelaide as a very cultured city.

Additionally, being that Adelaide is the biggest city in South Australia, and South Australia is world-renowned for its wine. There are around 30+ vineyards around Adelaide alone! I'm definitely excited to go on a wine tour or two. There is a company here that does a wine tour on bikes, so I might check that out next weekend.

Despite having a population of about 1.25 million, people seem to think that Adelaide is "quiet".  I think this has more to do with the obvious comparisons to Australia's other larger, more desirable cities, Melbourne and Sydney (we went over this, didn't we?). I haven't quite had the chance to go out, so we'll see what this city's nightlife has to offer when I get some moolah!!!