Things I think about

From time to time my mind wanders to places and timezones outside my cubicle. Specifically, it wanders to the days I was travelling through Asia and Europe. It wasn't so long ago and although I appreciate my job (and the income), my friends, my life in Toronto and all those subway rides to work, I do often think about less comfortable modes of transportation I have had to take at hours more ungodly than 8:30am.

From January 26, 2006 to February 28, 2007 I have had the pleasure of taking over 28 train rides, around 50 long distance bus rides, 9 boat rides between cities, in the vicinity of 15 flights and then there were the countless motorcycle rides, donkey carts, horse drawn carriages, camel rides, subways, sky trains, taxis, tuk-tuks and cycle rickshaws. I've spent more than 21 nights on overnight bus and train rides. The most epic of these was the three or four days (I lost count) I spent on a train in China trying to get from Xian to Turpan in Xinjiang province. On the way back I spent three nights travelling from Hotan across the Taklamakan desert to Dunhuang, then by bus to Golmud and overnight by bus to Lhasa in Tibet.

In the 13 months on the road I have crossed borders into 17 countries to visit over 114 towns, cities, villages and islands. New locales meant new sleeping quarters and so, I have slept in over 100 different beds including train/bus berths or on occasion mats. I've spent several nights sleeping in gers in the Gobi desert, on mats under a blanket of stars in the Thar desert, in basements and on rooftops in Kandahar, Afghanistan and Arambol, India.

All this travelling and sleeping meant meeting people. I added over 100 new emails to my address book (most of which I don't use), got more than 20 or so phone numbers (most of which I don't call) and have met more than 500 perfect strangers that I spent afternoons, evenings, days and hours hanging out with. There must have been at least a 1000 or so people I exchanged only a few words and smiles, or sometimes laughs and had the occasional shouting match, with.

I've been in the presence of some amazing souls including the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala. Other less world renowned souls but far more personally memorable were 83 year old Daw Khin Khin Htay at the Mahasi Centre in Yangoon who's last words to me were profound in their simplicity: "Don't ever forget."

Sarah in Hampi appeared clad in white like a ghost in the midst of a boulder strewn landscape. We spent a little over 24 hours in the same town exploring ancient Hindu temples.

Helen whom I approached in pitch black darkness on a path leading to Tonsai beach in Thailand. Over three days I discovered she was taking a break from her life changing move across continents. Every day was spent pushing off the mosquito infested climb up to the lagoon overlooking the water in favor of watching the oh-so-toned backs of rock climbers on the limestone cliffs.
Bill whom I met in Istanbul at the end of a long bout of passing out spontaneously. He came to meet me again in Kuala Lumpur and then I went to see him in Semporna, Borneo.

I've never been good with names and so I don't remember the name of the man sitting under a tree guarding a gator near Jaisalmer. His wive died during childbirth and he was left to raise four boys (between the ages of 5 and 12) living in the most basic of shacks right there next to the tree in the desert. New wives are hard to come by when you have four children and nothing more than a tree to stretch out under near a nuclear testing site.

I like to think that his name was Sandeep or Vikram because I want to believe that I remember his name. As luck would have it I just happened to get into the only car on the entire train with one bed left. Hanging out of a train door in the middle of the night as you approach the Himalayas has never been so much fun. The following day (still on the train) he tried to find me a salted lassi at the station platform but instead was blessed by a sari wearing hijra, aka the Indian version of a lady boy.

On another train ride two middle aged brothers were on their way back to their hometown from Delhi. "This is where they shot Gandhi" he whispered across the aisle to me as I looked out at dusk onto the platform. His brother had a severe skin condition that covered his hands and neck in boils. They shared home made puri and goolab jamun with me before pushing a terracotta cup of chai into my hands through the window bars from the platform in their hometown.

There's been others I've met in groups like the people that make up the Peace Corps in Mongolia, Hands On Disaster Relief workers and Peace Corps volunteers in the Philippines, the trio made up of Jim, Francisco and Mauro in Burma, the 15 people on the boat ride to Luang Prabang and Emma, her dad, Hedie and her husband in Halong Bay.

The Koreans I met deserve a special shout out. Fish was always fishie, a cockroach was suddenly cute when transformed into a cockroachie and leeches were less pesky when they were called leechie. Their sound effects left you breathless, their smiles were always big (and sometimes the afros too), their generosity boundless and the stories always crazy.

Memories like these keep coming up and they span across months and countries. There is no lack of wonderful people in this world. Sometimes things have been less than wonderful too. Witnessing fatal motorcycle accidents in Vietnam and Cambodia, sitting through bombings in Kandahar, having Kabul shut down into a curfew after a day of major rioting, being there with a fellow traveller during a drug bust in Laos, passing out at a market in India, nearly dying on the way back from Everest Base Camp as the leaking wheel on our truck kicked out at each of 28 hairpin turns off the mountain and the drunk drivers/captains in various countries made some days tense to say the least.

All these memories of people are strung around some of the world's most fascinating sights like the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China, the Terracotta Warriors, the national museum in Pnom Penh, the legendary weekend market in Kashgar, the scars of war in Kabul and Kandahar, the famed Khyber Pass, the Aya Sofia, the Berlin Wall, the temple city of Bagan, Ankor Wat, the Kama Sutra carved temples, the tiered rice terraces of Batad, pretty as pie Luang Prabang, white sand beaches of Borneo and the Potala Palace.

People, towns and sights aren't the only thing I think back on. The wildlife has been pretty spectacular along with the landscapes. Swimming with sharks, sitting with orangutans, watching wild horses run alongside the car, 100 plus foot sanddunes, a group of vultures devouring a cow's carcass, the Monet worthy sky in Mongolia, eagles dipping into the ocean to catch fish, watching Everest tower through clouds in Tibet, seeing flying fish skim the surface of the Celebes Sea or tuna jump from the early morning waters, sunset that make your hearts stop over mother of pearl oceans, following whale sharks and turtles while snorkeling, being blessed by an 16 foot boa or scared of a 10 foot king cobra all this and more was worth every penny I spent in the last year and every sleepless night I've had on the the road.