The world is your playground.

Posts from the ‘Transformative Travel Experiences’ category

The Family Reintroduction: What Traveling in Southeast Asia Taught Me About My Family

By on September 4, 2025

The people I’ve known the longest still surprise me. I learned this when my family visited me in Thailand. Take everyone out of their context and comfort zones and new elements of their personalities unfold. Sure some things always remains the same. My sister still wants the royal treatment, my dad wants to make sure everyone has the royal treatment and my mom just wants everyone to get along.

I wandered off to far flung places before I’d graduated university. I completed my last semester abroad and stayed overseas for the next two and a half years. There’s a transition into an adult relationship with family members that happens during those years. While my sister figured all of that out, I was biking in a rice field in Thailand.

The chance for my family to visit me overseas stirred a bubbly mixture of reactions. Mostly, I was excited to enjoy their company and show them my life in Thailand. Part of me however, was anxious. The years overseas had changed me and I wasn’t sure how much they’d changed in those years either.

The first few days were mixed. I loved showing them around, exploring new places and basking in luxuries like air conditioning and beaches. I was also incredibly impatient. I’d been in Thailand for over a year and took for granted the daily routines I’d become accustomed to. I guess the money does look different, and talking to cab drivers is awkward at first, and squat toilets can be mildly traumatizing the first go around.

What I did come to appreciate are the new things I learned about the people I’d known my whole life. My dad, with his boundless curiosity thrives abroad. He was the most alert, inquisitive and giddy I’d ever seen. My mom, the rock in our family, knows how to cut loose more than she lets on. My sister with her perfect hair, will be the first to run through the mud if it means a good time.

Most of all, I loved the reassurance of the things I already knew. This I realized when we made our way over to Cambodia. As we teased each other over afternoon hor d’oeuvres of champagne and cheese, I remembered this is the family I’ve always known. This is the family with a tendency to turn the most average moment into a celebration to remember.

4 Comments

On Becoming a Bold Biking Babe in Shanghai

By on August 15, 2025

Some may jump at the opportunity to weave through Shanghai streets on a bicycle. Prior to the summer of 2005, biking was a deal breaker, for anything, anywhere. I’d signed up for a summer experience in Shanghai. I’d envisioned living near campus, walking to my classes, drinking bubble tea with friends, all by foot or sky train. I was tricked, or just naive. Day one in Shanghai was spent navigating the city by bike, as was day two, three and thirty-three.

There was a time in my life when I liked biking just as much as any other kid in the neighborhood. Then I rode my friend’s mom’s bike down a gravel hill, flipped over the handle bars, hit my face on a rock, got a concussion and sprained my wrist. Any desire to cycle left me that day. I didn’t live in a neighborhood. I lived off of a highway that my mother prohibited us from riding anywhere near. I accepted my future as a bike-less one and never got back on the two-wheeled wonder.

Our first day on bikes we broke up into groups to explore the city and get oriented. I spent this day hoping that my wobbliness on the bike combined with my blurry tear-filled vision wouldn’t send me crashing into a street food cart. Re-learning how to ride a bike in Shanghai felt akin to learning how to drive in Mumbai, without a metal bubble of protection.

Since I was there for six weeks I had to keep hopping back on the bike day after day after day. The first week was terrible. The second week was less so. By the third week I’d forgotten I had a phobia of biking. By the fourth week I was an invincible, zipping, weaving, bell ringing, speed machine.

The day I made a left turn at a very yellow light on a road we’d entitled “The Widowmaker” because of its six lanes, I realized I’m not afraid anymore. As I weaved in and out of the oncoming traffic, I realized I’m more than not scared anymore, I’m bold.

Leave a comment

“Hi There Stranger.” A New Mindset Towards New Faces

By on August 9, 2025

My dad is the kind of person who will start a conversation with anyone. He is socially fearless. He doesn’t initiate conversation for a particularly reason or means. He genuinely loves conversation and meeting people. Every person he sits next to on an airplane is a friend come landing. If Dad disappears on a family outing it’s probably because he’s deep in dialogue with someone he found along the way.

I wasn’t born this way. Not even remotely so. When we’d travel as a family, my dad would point out all the kids I could play with. I’d usually give him a look like I’d just smelled old fish and go back to reading my book. I liked to be by myself or with people I knew well. Shooting the breeze with a stranger was on par with going to the dentist or deep cleaning the bathroom.

Engaging with travelers while backpacking is a standard practice. So many travelers are either alone or with a partner they’re a little sick of and are dying for a fun couple days with new buddies. When I first started hosteling I was a little taken aback by the number of people who invited me on a tour or to dinner. I loved this! I didn’t have to navigate the awkward channels of starting the conversation. Eventually, I even worked my way up to being the inviter.

I didn’t truly believe strangers are just friends I haven’t met yet, until I met Alex. We met on an overnight bus from Krabi to Bangkok, in Thailand. We sat next to each other during the ride and from overhearing him talk to the attendant I’d gathered that he spoke English. I fully intended to ignore him for the 12-or-so hour ride, but the traveler in me kept poking at me and telling me to say “Hi.”

I made one comment about boarding the wrong bus. This turned into hours and hours of conversation. Not the forced, generic conversation I hated, but conversation about our travels, families and interests. Mostly, we laughed at each other’s awkward mishaps on the road. I felt like I was on a bus ride with a good friend - way more fun than 12 hours with my own thoughts.

After the bus ride and a day in Bangkok, Alex and I went our separate ways and have kept in sporadic touch since then. The moment I realized this stranger was a friend changed my perspective on meeting new people completely. I no longer interact with new people out of obligation. I strike up a conversation with a new face because my new friends await.

1 Comment

Facing a Fear of Failure on Annapurna Mountain in Nepal

By on August 1, 2025

Eight years finishing dead last during PE sprints taught me to avoid public displays of speed and agility. A sunrise hike in Lake Tahoe spent panting on the sidelines made me solemnly swear to myself and the rising sun that I would never hike again. I’d rather miss out on an experience than risk exposing my weaknesses.

I dreamed of trekking in the Himalayas long before I set foot in Nepal. Once I was there my heart longed for time spent in the sanctuary of nature. An adventure in the Himalayas meant more to me than any temple, museum or palace. The scars of wounded pride still gnawed at me and my habits of avoidance told me to skip the trek. But I couldn’t. This was the Himalayas. A once in a life time experience.

I hoped the hike would be easy. I hoped I wouldn’t lagged behind. I hoped I wouldn’t feel humiliated by my weakness. I’d spent the last two years exercising regularly and was much stronger than I’d been in Lake Tahoe or eighth grade. I’d tested the waters with hike in Bali the year before. I knew I was physically able to trek the Poon Hill Circuit in Annapurna, but I still feared my weakness.

I trekked slowly, really, really slowly. I climbed a stairway to heaven at the pace of a toddler. I thought the climb was the hardest part, but the descent was so much more challenging. Every joint in my body hurt on impact. I lamented about my aching bones to no end. My group had to stop and wait for me every few steps so that I wasn’t completely in the dust. If slow trekking were an Olympic sport, I’d bring home the gold.

Slow trekking may have hurt my body, but it didn’t hurt my pride. I got over being embarrassed on the first day. I was far more concerned with putting one foot in front of the other than anyone else’s judgements. I was proud of myself for every step I made through the pain. My soul was nourished by the beauty of my surroundings. I had my best friend with me and a great guide to pass the time with conversation and blubbering.

I didn’t dazzle anyone with my athletic prowess, but it didn’t matter. My outlook changed, that matters. I now know a strength in me that I didn’t know existed. I know that it doesn’t matter how slow I go, it’s showing up and doing the work that matters. I know there are so many scenarios in life that I won’t be the shining star or will look flat out stupid. I know avoiding these experiences altogether robs me of the chance to learn, grow and live life to it’s fullest.

2 Comments
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 28 other followers

Powered by WordPress.com
%d bloggers like this: