The thing about traveling is…

Andy and I have been on the road since mid July. Crazy right? Well, it’s hard for us to believe. The perpetual vacation isn’t even half way done and I feel like an expert already. This coming from a guy whose only long-term vacation was driving around the US, hardly putting myself in a foreign environment. Sure some parts of New Mexico and Texas felt like the moon, but all the signs were in English and I had my car. Compared to the adventure we’re on now, that was a walk in the park.

But there are some things I’ve learned along the way that I thought I’d share with you faithful readers.

Lesson 1:
Everyone, wherever we’ve gone, has spoken English. Sure, it’s broken and the vocabulary is limited, but still people know enough to get their point across. What’s even more bizarre is that all the travelers speak English too. So when you have a group of Germans, Israelis, Spaniards, Americans, Brits, its English that binds them. Sure you can learn how to say thank you and hello in the countries native language. But it always comes back to English.

In one particular instance, on the way home from visiting Auschwitz in Poland, we were stuck on a minibus for an hour with two students from Belgium, one traveler from Chile and another from Germany. Andy brought up the point that everyone in Europe seemed to speak English and the two Belgium guys rattled off a list of five or six different languages they spoke. And according to them, English was more difficult to learn than the rest. Crazy that most Americans only speak one language. I mean I took Spanish for a decade in my school years and I still can’t speak it with confidence or power. Why is that?

It’s comforting to know though, that if I need to interact with someone, they can understand me. Rarely can I switch the tables and try to understand their native tongue.

Lesson 2:
It’s much easier to meet people when you travel alone. I guess a guy or girl sitting alone at a bar or at a café looks more vulnerable to a couple or another single traveler. My time away from Andy has allowed me to be sought out by others. I haven’t even tried that hard and I met person after person with ease. Andy apparently has made a friend while on her own that she continually emails me saying that she feels like she’s known her forever and feels a serious connection to. They have spent almost two weeks together.

One particular night I was sitting by a bonfire at a riverside bar in Vang Vieng, Laos and a young bloke from England comes up to me and sits down. I was alone and, at the time, so was he. His name was Josh and he sported longish, faded Army pants and a button down shirt. He was drinking a Beer Lao and smoking a cigarette and he was all smiles.

“You mind if I sit down?”
“Sure.”
“So I saw you sitting over here alone and I thought I’d come up and say hello.”
“That’s nice of you. My name’s Eric.
“Mine’s Josh.”
And then he just launched right into it.

“So, right, like, I saw you sitting here and when your traveling, you gotta just walk up to people and start a conversation. Unless you want to just sit alone all night,” he said still smiling.
“Yeah, it’s been kinda hard for me to do that.”
“Well sure. But it’s all about freedom. No one know you, right, so you can just be open and warm.”’ He actually said this to me. He continued. “And if you get bored, you can just make up an excuse to leave. No hard feelings, ever. How awesome is that. And how many times have you been with your friends from home and all you wanted to do was get up and walk out. But now, everyone you meet is knew and fresh.”
“Yeah, good point.”

I found out he was a plumber from London and was in month ten of his yearlong trip. He looked more relaxed than me even though I can’t imagine getting any chiller than I feel right now. He went on to talk about how proud he was of himself for traveling alone. He was so calm and inviting and friendly, without sporting an ego or bravado. I peppered him with questions about where he’d been, who’d he met, what he’d done, if he was nervous about being alone.

“You see, that’s the thing. I’ve met so many people just by walking up and saying hi.”

A group of people he had befriended a few days before walked up and he got up to say hello to them. He thanked me for the conversation and he moved on. I bumped into him the next night (both of us wearing the same clothes - wash day, nothing clean, right?) and we shook hands, said “Cheers” clinked our beers and I moved on. It was a liberating experience.

Lesson 3:
Walking is fun! Without a car, my feet are my transportation and I need them to take me where I want to go. At home, a car is a luxury. Listening to your radio or cd or ipod, you are able to go wherever you want, seemingly for free despite gas prices. But when traveling, you have to walk to the local bus or to the subway or to the Tuk Tuk drivers. Many times you find out how far something is and when they tell you 4 kilometers, you think to yourself, “Shit, that’s nothing.”

So now we walk. We even made up a song called “Hoofin’ it!” We decided to stay a bit outside downtown Krakow and at first I thought we made a mistake. But after five days of walking to and from the hot spots, I felt free. I could go wherever I wanted, make a left or a right or just continue going straight ahead.

One particular night, it was late and we had trekked all over the city. Our feet were tired and we had at least 2 kilometers left to get to our hotel. We decided to walk instead of finding a bus or tram and then having to wait for it to show up. Just as we made that decision, it started to rain. We said “Fuck it, let’s keep going.” This spawned the “Hoofin It” song. We should have wrote down the lyrics because god damn, they were funny, but alas, I would not do it justice to try and make them up here on the spot. Just know that we rocked out on those sidewalks, laughing our tails off. Until of course one of us pushed it too far and came up with a not so funny verse. It was bound to happen. And then just as we felt the ache in our tootsies, our hotel appeared. Walking. Who knew?

Lesson 4:
Not being expected to tip your wait staff is friggin incredible. It took us a while to stop feeling bad, but for the most part, tips are not expected. Sure, you can round up here and there. In Europe, if service was extraordinary, throwing down a buck or two is much appreciated.

The other night, in fact, the waiter didn’t understand what was happening when I tried to leave him a tip. The exhange rate turned the tip into about 30 cents, but he kept giving it back to me. I insisted, saying, “For you. For you.” He continued to return it to me. I smiled and just walked out, leaving the money on the table.

But the lesson, because that’s what we’re talking about here, is tipping as an obligation just sucks. And, Americans are the biggest tippers in the world. Brits rarely give more than 5% at home or so I was told by a guy I befriended in Greece. He was blown away that Americans routinely give 15-20%. He found it laughable. Seriously, he laughed.

Lesson 5:
For Canadians, I think sewing their country’s flag on one’s backpack or baseball cap is a slap in the face and judgemental to a fault. I know why they do it, but don’t they realize what they are insinuating and how the statement they are making generalizes a population that is so incredibly diverse.

They do it so people don’t think they are Americans. OK, sounds simple enough. But I think there is something hidden deeper. Why don’t they want people to think they are American? And why are they the only citizens to display their nationality? My theory is that it is presumed Americans are loud, rude, obnoxious. Funny, I haven’t met one American who fits that bill. The ones that did were from London, Israel and Australia. But anyway.

I met a couple, Nic and Sandy, in Laos who were awesome, incredible, funny, chill. They had been traveling for almost a year and were almost finished. We spent the night talking, drinking, getting to know each other. He’s a musician and mosaic artist. She was a bartender. When they told me they were renting motorbikes the next day, I invited myself along and they said, “Sure!” And they meant it.

We spent the whole day hanging out. We went to caves and lagoons and then had dinner and watched the sunset together. They are planning a trip to Burningman next year, so I knew they were on the level. So I said to myself, Screw it. Ask them?

I brought up the Canadian flag debate I was having with myself. And I think I said some things that could be considered harsh.

”It stinks of self importance,” I said. What I wanted to say was that I don’t think people are really looking at you as much as you think they are.
“Everyone thinks we are American.”
“So just tell them you’re not,” I replied.
“But it’s frustrating when people think you’re American.” Apprantly they get treated differently when locals know they are Canadian.

The conversation didn’t last long and I started my headtrip thing where I felt I had offended them. I kept running the conversation over and over in my mind. I let it sit there for a bit and then apologized to them. He said cooly and with complete honesty, “It takes a lot to offend us. No worries at all. Seriously”

I don’t think I ruined any potential relationship we might have. (if you’re reading, Nic and Sandy, hi guys!) I guess I just get frustrated to be lumped in with people who give me a bad name. Aw shit, I’m rambling now.

* * *

So of course there are more lessons, but for now, that’s all I got. I leave you with a few sayings I’ve picked up over the trip so far that I like.

“Same same, but different.” (Laos) It means, “similar, but with a slight, almost insignificant difference.” Amazing how useful it is.

“I was pissed!” (England) Easily translated to “I was drunk.” Brits use this a lot cause it seems like they are always drinking. At least the one’s I have met. But I don’t want to generalize. ☺

“It’s a wee bus ride.” (Ireland) Wee translated simply to “small” or “short.”

“Wei geil ist dass den?” (Germany) Exactly translated into “How cool is that then?” My German friend said it’s used when something unexpectedly awesome happens.

“No drama.” (Australia) A couple we had dinner with one night from Australia kept using that when we tried to make plans to possible meet up the next day. It means “no worries.” (But you gotta say it with an Australian accent to get the full effect. Try it. Now!)