Travelers

“Someone who is traveling or who travels often; a person who moves around from place to place instead of living in one place for a long time” –Merriam Webster Dictionary–

On the surface the definition sounds good, but there is more to this than meets the eye–only incurious individuals can never cognize. In short, it is a complicated lifestyle one man will consider while another person to tolerate–both insiders and outsiders must absorb the complexity it brings–it doesn’t matter when or where. 

If you have been a traveler all your life or once, then you are beginning to have hints where this conversation is going–or perhaps not. Good for you if you had a different perspective about other travelers aside from yourself or simply an opposite experience than mine.    

Half of my existence is happy and the rest is regretful to have known travelers along the way. As always I will not name names to gratify my rage and my joy writing down my thoughts about this subject. I only have one intention for this specific post–an indirect speech. 

When I first traveled outside my domicile it gave me joy (it still does in few occasions) meeting people from diverse cultures. For one reason I was too naive of so many things around me. Funny me, but that feeling of excitement made me so oaf about the real world at the same time. 

Now I’m completely unlike. Of course I don’t want to be clumsy expressing my comments and so I must be careful with the choice of words here. First and above all, there are a lot of travelers from the so called first-world-countries who are very culturally insensitive and disoriented. And this surprised me big time–so flabbergasted. They are so annoying. 

Sorry for this and I am not labeling everyone. Their (particularly those people I knew and met) greediness, arrogance, superiority complex, stupidity, racism, behaviors, and ignorance towards insiders chill me to the bone. They behave like they haven’t known the word CARE. They are just full of prejudices, complaints, whining, and dissatisfaction. They scared me to death. 

My family is no rich and I’ve been very transparent about it, but I don’t act like I’m culturally isolated not knowing anything. In fact these people are well educated and that makes me so sad. Now I know why it was so difficult to find angels while traveling which I assumed would be easy.  

On the one hand, this also made me realize that advanced education or modern orientation is no guarantee to becoming a well-mannered being or travelers–it is but one’s prerogative. Like a writer who has to decide the fate of his characters–and so them. Isn’t it human is born with free will?     

If for every traveler is the same, then I don’t mind going just for a bivouac–where and when I didn’t have to prolong my agony in the presence of these people. Happy to say every traveler is totally dissimilar. 

In my entire life as a backpacker (who travels often), I still cannot define the true nature of every traveler. It is so complex for comprehension indeed.

A Father's Love

I might be emotionally carried away with any movie that portrays the unconditional love of a dad, but still it won’t give me a genuine impression how it feels to have one–I was never attached to my father. Like millions of kids out there in the same boat, they will sympathize with me without a doubt.

This was one of the many wonderful things destiny had deprived me of growing up as a kid. But for every difficult life’s story ever told, sure a lesson to learn or can spring from. I had mine. Above all, I moved on from that awful circumstance.

Sorry to say, it’s a long story.

Who never wanted a father’s love??? Every human being has this utmost desire, but there are things in life that are totally out of our hands. It is undeniably painful, but we must not embrace this agony for too long or else we will never give other people a chance to love us. I think it helped me personally instead of dwelling to the notion of hope springs eternal.

It took me a long time to let go, but not forever. After all it is not how fast one can recover. From my very experience, accepting it little by little is what I needed. No rush. It was I’d say my way of coping up.

Honest to goodness, I didn’t experience such kind of love, but it doesn’t make me less a loving father. And so it surprises me still to see or know how others pass the abusive, unloving behaviors of their father to their children. The same with the people I know even those who are close to my heart.

Life is not fair at all times, and in this life I have come to fully grasp that I don’t need to experience a father’s love to love a child–even not my own children–it is a choice. I have chosen to be loving as a person or as a farther myself. A father is not the only person who can influence someone to be loving, but good to those who have ones.

Whenever friends asked me about this around the table, I felt so uncomfortable. But that was long ago–not anymore. Things have changed since I allowed the greatest love of the heavenly father to transform my life and also by making a decision to stand up for what is right.

   

Like I said never had experienced the love of an earthly father in real life, but I have it. It is mine now to decide whether or not to follow the footsteps of my father.

A father’s love? You tell me!

My Frisbee Valentine

Religious View

My Life Is One Step At A Time

That gloomy day many years ago when I thought my life was over–the sense of leaving the world was so intense which left me hopeless and defeated–and yet I wanted to live so much. I was very tired to keep on living. Life was no longer that exciting as a kid.

For ten years in the presence of a dysfunctional family was just mentally and physically draining. It pumped out my whole being. It dried up my soul. “I’m ready to die.” I told myself although the fear of dying was in a constant protest. I was eleven.

I had nowhere to go–not even my own family was there to embrace me. I hated my father, my siblings, my friends, my teachers, and everyone in the community. I couldn’t go to school. I had no food to eat. The worst I had no place to live.

Actually, it was no war or a fatal accident to struggle, but my heart and mind knew I was in a battle that never seen. I remember begged God on bended knee for strength to exist further because loneliness and poverty were just too much to bear–they engulfed my will to survive.

That is why I’m still here and always thankful for that victory.

Of course that was only one of the many excruciating pains I had been through. And for every end of the road I trod, for every circumstance had like at the end of one’s rope, it prepared me to be stronger like a real fighter. But it didn’t mean it spared me from crying, losing, praying like I never did, breakdowns, and even from tantrums–it was just part of climbing a huge mountain one step at a time.

Whether I meant literal darkness or only a symbol of suffering being experienced–each required grace and mercy to grasp–and only one step at a time is what required of me to give a good fight. I always asked the Father from above to win it for me. It’s my secret now.

But many times I wrestled alone, the more I did it solo fight, the more I failed, and the longer I suffered. Before I knew it, I was in an unwanted cycle of life. That’s when I gave up and go back in the loving arms of my Creator.

Funny to think, but it was in this seemingly slow-paced reality or way of life I had come to learn the meaning of loving, forgiving, understanding, waiting, persevering, and helping one another. Cést la vie! And each lesson per se wasn’t easy to learn.     

Has life given me a break yet?

It has compared to my past life, but I realized there is no such thing as shortcut to how a triumph is gained for all those fights and plights–at least for me. And so my existence is lived or played or acted one step at a time. 

Thanks & See You Again

Few times in the past I was reminded by good friends of mine not to say a be-all and end-all statement quickly no matter how awful the situations are–as if it is the end of everything–the world is round after all.

This time I will only write two wonderful things–about thanksgiving and a farewell–nothing less, nothing more.

I had an awesome time in Laos, and it is completely undeniable–and truly unforgettable. I just cannot go on with my journey–for now. And so let me leave this country temporarily with a grateful heart no matter what had happened. 

Not my first here or not my last perhaps–see you again will be the right words to say. I don't know the exact time of my return but I still have the desire to visit this place in the future or the nearest. 

Who knows!?

We may not have the certainty of the future or what life has to give, but I always believe in thin end of the wedge. Maybe I needed to wait more or exercise my patience when things don't happen as expected. 

It is alright. 

Once I had a big dream for this country, and I thought it is going to happen this year, but I don't see a hint of fulfillment yet–hopefully next time–soon. Of course it doesn't mean it is already over. 

I am forever thankful for the many life-changing experiences here in Laos, but I need to move on again somewhere. 

So thanks for now and see you again, Laos and friends.