Jitters and Twitter

I feel a bit like I'm slowly siphoning my presence out of the real world and into the internet. There is less than one week left until takeoff, and the next few days will be packed with tearful goodbyes, the cleaning out and packing up of my possessions, and the 'official' passing off of the non-profit organizations and projects that I am currently in charge of. At the same time, however, I have started this blog, set up Skype and AIM accounts, and obsessively filled out the Gmail contact address option for every person I have ever known (the better to send them all postcards). As a result, I am left feeling like there is somewhat less me, and more... e-Me.

Now, this is all well and good. Some days ago, however, I hit a new low when I became a Twitter-er. For those of you who have so far managed to sidestep this new 'cultural phenomenon,' Twitter is an online social networking site obviously created by someone who liked the concept of the Facebook status update so much that s(he) decided to house these updates in (what appears to me to be) a completely superfluous new bastion of e-narcissism.




Sometime in the past week, I finally figured out the one redeeming use for Twitter: during extended and perilous whirlwind journeys, it can be used to assure Facebook-less parents that one's physical and mental faculties are more or less still intact. It was this weak utilitarian logic that convinced me to procure coveted Twittering privileges of my very own. Furthering my shame, I have procured a widget which displays my Twitters, in all their glory, in a location just to the left of this post. Here's to describing the world's wondrous bounty in 140 characters or less!

Rest assured, concerned reader, that some slightly more serious (and less ridiculous) steps toward trip readiness have also been taken since last I wrote. The Boyfriend and I have scoured the city in search of guidebooks, phrase books, anti-bacterial travel towels, and a first-aid kit stocked with enough antiseptic and painkillers to allow us to perform amputations in the backwoods of Nepal. (Just kidding. Seriously, do you know how heavy that much antiseptic would be?) Phone bills have been canceled, adequate (i.e. very, very comprehensive) medical insurance has been located, and, most importantly, all of our favourite restaurants have been revisited. (What? I make my own fun).

In short, my to-do list has been substantially whittled, and while it's by no means ready to hit the recycling bin, we're basically ready to go. By that, I mean that almost all necessary equipment has been purchased, finances are arranged, and adequate measures to ensure our health and safety have been taken. I don't, of course, mean that I could skip off to the airport right now without a second thought. Nine months is a long time to bounce around the world without a permanent (or even semi-permanent) place to rest one's head. The realities of heading off into the Great Unknown (which, from what I can tell, looks absolutely nothing like The Known) are looking a lot more...well, real...this side of September. And they're getting in the way of the glee.

But that's okay. 'Travel,' after all, isn't derived from the Latin word for 'having a gay old time.' It comes from the French 'travail': work. I'm going to see a lot this year, do a lot, and learn a lot. Hopefully, I'll have a blast. But I know that the two aren't synonymous. And I'm okay with that.

Now, if you'd like to find me in two months, homesick, mud-covered and coffee-deprived, and make me eat my words...be my guest. (Although not really, actually, since I won't have a house. Find your own hostel.)

J :)

Seoul streets and bug buffets

It is 12:18am. I am supposed to be volleying off yet another round of edits for the October issue of SpeakNews, the Edmonton-based human rights magazine that I currently edit. Instead, however, I am resolutely sipping a Dr. Pepper slurpee, and looking at the results of a Google image search for Seoul. I am doing this rather composedly - or I was, at least, until the fifth image to come up on the screen makes me giggle like a schoolgirl on helium:



I am going there. In 17 days, I may be standing in that very street. I take enormous satisfaction in the certainty of this - in the fact that my seat on a plane traveling to this bastion of exotic wonder is already booked, and that, in a little over two weeks, I will be sitting in it. I also take a certain comfort in the presence of English signage in this picture, even though it only appears useful to connote the presence of beer and something that is 'hot' (hopefully, not the beer).

Emboldened, I try another image search - this time, for Bangkok, Thailand. Once again, an image just a few rows down makes me smile. It appears to depict a Thai street food cart laden with platters of Pad Thai and other wonderful dishes. I click on it. When the larger image appears on the screen, I laugh even harder than before:



(If you can't see, just show this picture to a bunch of people until one screams. That's right - this is a bug buffet).

This dual reaction - feverish anticipation, and a nearly simultaneous sense of the creepy-crawlies - has been my experience with most of our trip planning and preparation thus far. On the one hand: Glamour! Adventure! Fabulous cultures, with which I have had little experience and less contact! And on the other: said cultures, only less glamorous and more terrifying. And accompanied, of course, by more bugs.

My boyfriend, Kiosh, and I met during our second year of a four-year undergraduate program at the University of Alberta. Some months after we began dating, we decided, somewhat fancifully, that upon graduation, we would reward ourselves with a fabulous round-the-world trip. Since then, our fantastic getaway has been often discussed, but seldom solidified. Apart from two relatively ill-advised India guidebooks we bought each other for Christmas some time ago, we've been all talk.

Until a few months ago, that is, when the University decided that we had learned quite enough for the time being, thank-you-very-much (in other words, we graduated). Suddenly, we were plotting a road map through Southeast Asia, researching visas, visiting travel immunization clinics, and Facebooking Korean ex-roommates to see if we could grab a couch in Seoul.

The plan, thus far, is this: Kiosh and I will be taking off for somewhere from 9 months to one year, and seeing as much of the world as we can jam into it, armed with some (thankfully) sizeable savings, two 60 L backpacks, all the immunizations the wonderful Canadian medical system can offer, and our passports. Our trip will be divided into several legs, and though specifics fuzz up towards the end, here are our tentative plans:


Leg One (October - mid December): Southeast Asia. We will be starting with a week in Seoul, South Korea, visiting a great Korean guy who was Kiosh's roommate in Washington this past fall. From there, we will fly to Hanoi, Vietnam, and explore the country before heading up the Mekong Delta into Cambodia, to hike and explore Angkor Wat. Our other major destination in Southeast Asia is Thailand, where we'll spend about a month. A few days in Laos and a week in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia are also hopefully on the agenda.

Leg Two (mid-December - February): Australia's Eastern Coast. Kiosh's dad lives on an acreage near Byron Bay, a hippie town on the eastern coast of Australia about 2 hours from Brisbane. We will be spending about a month there, relaxing and spending time with his family over the holidays. I'll be doing some visiting too - my best friend is a freshly minted law student at Bond University, which is just a few hours away from where we'll be. After Christmas, we'll see as much of the Gold Coast as possible, including Sydney and (if the stars happen to align correctly) the Barrier Reef. Our main enemy in Australia is distance - the country is effing huge.

Leg Three (February - April): India. We'll probably spend around two months in India, although this leg may be extended depending on how the trip pans out. As we can't take guidebooks with us for any place further along our itinerary than Vietnam (because of the extra weight), and because I've been so busy reading up on the first few countries we'll be visiting, I can't report a detailed itinerary for India yet. To be honest, we'll probably plan this leg whilst chilling on Australian beaches (be jealous). Both of us, however, are extremely excited for this part of the trip. I've never been to India, and am incredibly excited go, while Kiosh spent extensive time there as a kid and is eager to go back.

Leg Four: The Rest! Other definites on our itinerary include Egypt; seeing some of China before taking the Trans-Siberian railway into Russia; and packing in as much of mainland and Mediterranean Europe (Barcelona, Paris, and Crete - oh, my!) as possible before the money runs out.

We'll probably be returning to Canada sometime next summer or fall, depending on how next year shapes up. I'm applying to grad schools right now, as well as internship opportunities abroad with CIDA, and Kiosh is thinking about teaching English in China for a year to practice his Mandarin. Our plans for 2010-2011 will have a definite impact on when we return.

I've started this blog for the same reason you can't sneeze on Blogger without giving 2 million other twenty-something traveler blogs a cold: because it lets me update many folks at home in a single swoop; because it'll likely be fun and cathartic for me to ruminate on my overseas experiences while I bang them out on our 10.1" adorable little netbook; and because, as one of my professors pointed out, if we get captured by rebels or come down with swine flu, we'll want as many lines of communication open as possible.

:) J