Going from nowhere to nowhere

16 months ago when I bought a one way ticket from Madrid, Spain to Salvador de Bahia, Brazil, I didn't expect to be in this continent for a long time, actually I didn't really expect anything, just wanted to leave and go with the flow and see where the road would lead me. But to be honest, in the first few months, I was thinking that it would just be another one of those trips that I did, 2 to 3 months on the road and then go back to Spain.

But one step at a time, one country after another, and now 1 year-4 months and 6 countries later, I find myself still wandering in this continent. And the end is not in sight. Quite to the contrary, I am thinking of staying here for a while.

I never thought that I could travel almost non stop for this long a period. I had always thought that my limit was 4 months top. But this 16 months have prove to me that limits are there to be overcome. Although being on the road for this long has its physical, emotional and mental tolls, it is through understanding and overcoming my limits and being in an uncomfortable state that I can begin to learn about myself; the not so nice side of myself, my imperfections. And then learn to embrace me for me, in all my goodness and imperfections. And when I can truly do that, then I am truly free.

While trekking through the pristine landscape of Torres del Paine in Chile, I explored my physical limit in terms of endurance to cold and tough conditions. And while hitch-hiking up the Carretera Austral, Chile, it was a test of solitude. I have never felt so alone, there were a few times where I was left in a crossroad where there was no sign of any human being, nor their settlement. I felt I was the only person in the world. Also at that time I was going through a very difficult period emotionally. I was feeling extremely lonely. I thought that I was ok being alone and not having friends by my side at all times, I thought that I was stronger in my emotional state, but again I was brought down to see that I should never take anything for granted. I still have a lot to learn about solitude.

This year has been a year of many self discovery. I learnt again the neccesity of deconstructing my identity. No matter how much I have grown to like or habitate in one, I cannot deny the fact that change is the only constant in life. And to evolve with change is the only way I can keep my sanity and this fleeting sense of contentment and happiness that we all long for.

Now that I have chosen to settle in Colombia for a while. I have to start from zero again. Looking for work, house and friends. The novelty of being in a new place and starting a new is wearing off. It is a vicious cycle that I want to jump out of, but the question is into what? What's on offer in the society I want no part in. So then what? What's the alternative? What are the options? To go back to a society that I don't believe in and a life that's identical to everyone else? I rather enjoy this current melancholy limbo.

Poems

Undecided
I Heard my name called
by the east wind
where the sun rises
behind the celestial mountain
by the west wind
where the moon shines
beyond the mysterious water

Like a cloud
blown this way and that
taking shapeless form
undecided, torn
like a ship
lost in the vast ocean of choice
compassless

***************************
The Road
I have walked many roads
flat and long
winding and straight
up and down
I have walked in many shoes
shining and common
used and worn
new and untested
The paths greet me
with embraces
with punches
with kisses
I am still walking
slowly
running
stop
Then I ask myself
Where am I going

Family tie

"You are really selfish!"

This would never hurt so much if it isn't said by one's mother. During our last tele-conversation, hearing that word felt like a bland crocked knife drove through my flesh and lodged itself in my heart and the tone of her voice, gave that knife a mighty twist.

What prompted such an outburst from an otherwise loving and dotting mum was my unwillingness to settle down, to have a "normal" life, a career, get married and give her grand children... And my wanting to lead this nomadic life, this "aimless" wandering and doing "nothing" to my life. Growing up, I was bombarded everywhere around me with the idea of a life like that of everyone else: education-career-marriage-children-retirement, I was brought up to compete with everyone else, with my siblings, my cousins, the neighbour's child, my father's secretary's sister's child. Phrases like "your sister just bought a new car" or "your cousin just bought a house" or "you know the so-and-so son just got promoted" are not uncommon, they are meant to encourage me to achieve higher goal, but those kind of comment just push me further away from wanting to have anything to do with that kind of idealogy.

I love my family, I used to be a mummy's boy, that's enough said. I grew up in a huge and united family, always surrounded by uncles, aunties, cousins and grandparents, from both sides. But something changed. People always asked me how do I feel being away from my family for such a long time. My answer has always been as long as I know that they are fine and healthy, that's enough for me. How do I get to this stage of detachment from my family?

Death.

The death of my grandmother, whom I loved and was an anchor to the family, I had the ilusion that she would always be there. But life has a lesson for me, a painful but necessary lesson - To let go. These last few years I have been trying to learn to "let go"; to let go of expectation, to let go of all things: ties, emotions that bind us. Because nothing is permanent, not even family, nor their love, nor the ties.

I would like to say that I am above the emotion that "family" evokes in me, that I am not bound by my love, nor by duty, not even guilt, to do thing one way or another just because of this concept of family that we were brought up to believe to be the fundamental truth. I would like to say that I am beyond that truth. There's no such thing as absolute truth, everything is relative.

I love my parents and my family, but I don't have to show it in a societal-dictated way. The manifestation of my affection doesn't have to be limited or constructed under a rigid rules and regulation, or bound by physical and geographical distances.

Knowing my parents, and most people for that matter, they would beg to differ. So maybe my mum is right, that I am really one selfish bastard who lives his life free of ties, like a prisoner set free... like a lunatic let loose... but one free and happy lunatic, nonetheless.

Identitidefying

After 5 years of wandering life, every part of me - my emotions, my senses and my intellect are telling me that its time to settle down. The loneliness is getting to me and my life need some changes.

When I left home, I constructed my identity as a traveller, backpacker and even a nomad. I embraced this new identity like a warm blanket on a wintry night. And after wearing it for 5 years, it has become one of those worn-out shirt that you get so comfortable with that you don't want to throw it out. I have become so used to being a traveller, a nomad that like most thing I began to take it for granted - this life on the road and the memorable experiences. I began to be complacent about my adventures and the enjoyment that I get out of it; reasoning that it is "my right" to have an amazing experience, it is "my right" that people should treat me with the utmost hospitality and generosity. I have lost the ability to appreciate the little and simple things in life.

My philosophy of life is "life is not measured by the amount of breath you take, but by the moments that take your breath away"... In these years of travelling, I have had so many moments that take my breath away, and now at times, I feel short of breath. Meaning to say that, with so many incredible experiences, incredible could become mandane and ordinary. And with each experience, I want more; the bar of expectation keeps rising higher to fulfill my need.

The signs started last year. Nothing seems to satisfy me as much as they did before. I think part of the reason I am now travelling through South America is to put to test whether I am really numb to this, of if the intensity of joy I get out of travelling has diminished.

Sadly it has.

This trip started in Salvador de Bahia in Brazil and after over 3 months, I reached the most southern city in the world, Ushuaia, Argentina. I have seen some really wonderful places and some unforgettable adventures. But what is vivid in my mind is not what I have seen but whom I have met. The people whom I had made some deep connection and with whom I shared experience, stayed in my memory. And I know I am craving for that, human connection. Not just a passing encounter, but something deeper and lasting. It has been a long while since I maintained a friendship for more than a year.

Loneliness is creeping up on me unnoticed. On this trip, I fell in love twice in 2 weeks at 2 different places. I am not a good guard of my own emotion, I let them loose and express them and live them to the full. That also means that I am open to hurt, rejection and broken heart. And that's what happened both times, and that left a devastating effect on me. It made me realised what is missing in my life - affection and companionship.

So here I am, in another crossed road in life where my identity is up for another makeover if I am willing to let the old one go. Unlike the last time where I was so ready to give up my old self, this time round, it is an identity that fits like a glove.. the only problem is that I don't need the glove anymore...

The road least travel

This whole year I was confronted with a very important choice: staying in Spain and get a European residency, or starting a whole new chapter of my life in South America. Staying, promises stability and comfortability. Leaving, promises nothing but an unending road of self discovery and life experiences. I finally made the difficult decision. It took me a long long time to decide. Even after I bought my flight ticket, I was still considering changing my mind.

Remember I spoke about the universe conspires to help us if we follow our destiny? Well, the decision of leaving Spain presents 2 problems. I have an 8 months old entry stamp on my passport that was very visible for any half-witted immigration officer to realise that I have overstayed. And I only bought a one-way ticket to Brazil and risk them rejecting my entry. I was worry, very worry until the day of my departure. But unbeknown to me, the universe was working to help me. When I went to check-in at Madrid airport, the airline issue me a fake return ticket to fool the Brazilian immigration. Later, when I walked nervously to the Spanish immigration counter, the officer was more interested in reading his newspaper than checking my passport, and I got an exit stamp! Oh My God! or Gaia! or whoever! Never in my wildest dream, did I dream that things would work out so smoothly. So, the road is pathed for me.

Last summer when I was in the Jordanian desert of Wadi Rum, under the desert starry night sky, I met an Italian who read the tarot card for me. It said that if I remain in Europe, life would be easy, comfortable and secured. And that's what I had and would have had if I stay in Madrid. If I stay and get the residency, life would be easy and predictable. But if I go to South America, the card said, I would have a spiritual breakthrough. What kind of breakthrough, I do not know. I have learnt to let go, to habour no expectation. I have no more anchor to hold me back in experiencing life, I am as blank as a new book for the universe and myself to write a story upon my life.

Some may say that tarot card is nothing but mumbo-jambo. But if we have a chanced meeting, please ask me to tell you my first exprience with it on the Camino de Santiago. All my encounter with tarot card has not been my intention to set out to seek it but rather, it seeked me.

It was really hard to leave Spain, or Europe for that matter. But once I left, it was much easier to move on. Europe was my home for the last 5 years and now once again I find myself homeless. I don't know how long I will be on the road or where my next home will be. So, I walk this path into the unknown.

".... I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood,
and I-- I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference"
by Robert Frost

Dream on

As a boy growing up in the other corner of the world, reading books and watching movies about people who backpacked the world, it ingrained in my brain the romantic idea of this lifestyle; of carefree, freedom, forming friendships, meeting interesting people, seeing the world.

I owed it a lot to the book ‘Alchemist’ by Paulo Coelho. The main message for me was that “when you follow your destiny, the universe conspires to help you”. Carrying this belief in my heart, I packed my bag and left home. Taking the very first step in the new and completely different chapter of my life. (Actually it is a completely different book).

I am a late started, as backpacking goes. The first time I really backpacked was 1 month after my 31st birthday. I remember I was very excited and scared at the same time, but I embraced the identity of a backpacker whole-heartedly without any reservation. I stayed in youth hostel, met other backpackers, exchanged stories, formed instant friendship, explored countries and cities dictated by "the bible" - Lonelyplanet, etc. This was what I had dreamt of. This was my destiny.

What is this life on the road? It is a total surrendering and letting go of all educations and conditionings that I was brought up to believe in and act on. It means being weird and strange. It also means not-belonging, marginalised and misunderstood.

But, if it is such a negative thing, what attracts me so much to it? I guess it gives me a kind of freedom that life otherwise seems to be devoid of. It is this freedom that freed me to experience life at its very basic level and to see the beauties of both geographical and human. If I had chosen to lead a “normal”, societal-dictated lifestyle, I would never had had some of the most amazing experiences of my life: Have you ever been invited by a stranger to his house to share his food, and eventhough he has less than you, would not accept any compensation? Or sharing sleeping place on the floor of a train station with some homeless people who made you feel at home? Or find that instant, deep connection with someone from a completely different background just because you are at the right place at the right time?

I know the risk of living life on the road; I was almost robbed countless of times, been cheated by trouts, been sent in the wrong directions, etc... These are the normal thing in the life of a backpacker, but never in any moment I fear for my life. There’s a deep-seated reassurance that things would eventually right itself. You can call it instinct. I call it letting go and trust in the universe.

A sense of deep contentment settled in my soul everytime I am on the road. The kind of contentment that money cannot buy, and status cannot achieve. It is only found in the simplicity of life, the giving of and letting go of oneself.

I cannot say whether this will be the way of life for me for the rest of my life. But all I know is that these 5 years of life on the road is the one that I have lived to the fullest! And should it all end right now, I would have no regret. Because I have lived my life in the way that bring me a sense of contentment that few people have experienced in their long drown-out lives. And I have stopped measuring life the way we were taught by society; longevity, wealth, etc. It all sum up very nicely by the philosophy of life that I try to live by:

"Life is not measured by the amount of breath you take, but by the moments that take your breath away"

My feeble attempt at friendship

“Hey Noel, want to come over and play?” Shouted Vincent through the wired fence. I ran to my grandma and asked for her permission. She shook her head. “My grandma says no” I shouted back disappointingly.

This is my earliest memory of friendship. Vincent and I were around 4 years old and he lived 2 houses away. We went to kindergarten together and I always bullied him in carrying my bag and we would come home singing some nursery rhyme in our dirtied uniforms to the dismayed smiled of our families. And spent most of the days playing together. In the era before video games and computer, the world was our playground and the only limitation was our imagination. Those were beautiful times.

I can’t remember how we first met. Nor do I remember how long we were friends before Vincent’s father was transferred away and we lost contact. I can’t even remember the day he left nor how we said goodbye. It must have been difficult. But you know kids, we get over it.

Growing up, I was always a quiet type. Surrounded by a rather big and extended family and with my parents and grandmother dotted on me. I thought I didn’t need any friend. But there was always a void inside. I remember wishing I had a good friend with whom I could play and share. I envied those friendships I read about in books and saw on TV. I wished I had one. I kept reminiscent about the friendship with Vincent, fooling myself that that was my one and only good friend in my life.

I wasn’t very lucky in this aspect of my life. I did have friends in school but they were just friends, and I was just one of their friends. I never found a strong personal connection with any of them; neither in Primary school nor in Secondary school.

This was compounded by the fact that somehow deep inside I knew I was different. I discovered my sexuality when I was about 13 or 14. With no one to turn to, I buried it deep down and never really explored it. But the realisation of it made me an outsider of my circle of friends because I would be labelled “weird” and “abnormal”.

In my late teens, I became very involved with the Catholic church and actually found my calling there. I excelled with my life in the church. I became more extroverted, outgoing and even funny. That brought me a lot of friendships. We shared the same indentity and same goal. And because of that I began to open up, sharing my thoughts, my ideas, my dreams, my problems and my difficulties with those closed to me. To them, I was almost the pillar and an example of holiness. But at night, when I was alone in bed, after the light was off, silent screams would crept out of my mouth buried in the pillow, tears welled up and started flowing uncontrollably. I would asked this Catholic God, WHY? over and over again, banging my head on the wall until the pain was gone or I became too exhausted and fell asleep.

Not being able to reconcile my faith, which was the meaning of my existence, and my sexuality, which was the nature of my being, I was rather reluctant to open myself up to friends. Because I didn’t want them to see the “monster” inside, the "sickness" that I was. I wasn't able to accept myself for who I was because all around me, people and system told me how to live and how to behave and they dictate who I was.

That was what led me to abandon my home and set out on the road to self discovery. Travelling around, moving from one place to another allow me to know many people, some became friends, others were merely passerbys. It was with real ease that I approach, chat and make friends.

Having accepted myself for who I am, it is so much easier to make friends. I do not have to hide behind masks, pretending to be what people want me to be, no more expectations. And though we merely spent a few days, at the most, with each other, some bond of friendships are stronger than a lot that I have known.

But the moment I settled down, established a longer term friendships, I collapsed. I collapsed under their expectations, the setting of boundaries, I have to behave in a certain, socially acceptable ways. I am no longer playing by my rule but it is in the co-existence that I found complication. I feel like a bird whose wings have been clipped, suffocation become the air I breath. When that happen, I usually fold up and let the friendship go. Because the commitment involved is too much and time consuming.

However, some friendships I hang on to because they are too precious for me to let go. And it is in these friendships that I learn about me and how I behave. It is simple, really, like fishing: when there’s a fish on the line, you have to pull a little, then let it go a little, then pull again. This tug of war will ensure eventually the fish ends in your hand. And that’s how friendship works for me, I think.

I remember a cartoon strip I once saw: a newly-wed couple asked an old couple how they kept their love and passion alive after so many years, and the old couple replied that a relationship is like 2 logs in the fireplace, they need to be close yet far apart enough to let oxygen in to keep the fire burning.

If I want you close, I have to let you go...