It's been six months now since I left Hong Kong, though it certainly feels a lot longer. I've heard that life is defined not by the number of years you live, but by the number of moments that take your breath away. In that sense I feel like I've lived years, so much has happened. Time is a completely different animal on the road.
I haven't been able to update nearly as much as I would like. This is partly due to lack of reliable Internet access, as well as travel fatigue. But the memories have been forged, and some of the words have taken shape. It seemed appropriate at this six-month juncture to reflect a bit on all that's happened.
I'm now in Nairobi, Kenya, after a journey that has led me through 9 countries and 30 destinations. Each country has had its unique charm, each profoundly affecting me in a different way. There were periods of intense focus where everyday was concentrated on working for the poor, followed by lulls of relaxation and adventure chasing. The presence of the invisible hand in my life continues to be apparent; long delays or obstacles that frustrated me ended up leading to chance meetings and once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that I couldn't have planned in my most lucid moments. Approaching each new country brought a question mark of uncertainty, and a natural anxiety of the unknown and the risks. Yet it continues to surprise me how fast I can adapt to striking new environments and people. So much so that by the time I leave, I leave a part of myself behind. Only to turn and face the journey ahead once more.
There are many things to be grateful for, which have become more apparent over time. Firstly, the time of my departure couldn't have been more fortuitous given the path I took, because I've navigated through the world while avoiding the rainy season of every country I've traveled. The Mekong river was a calm and invitingly placid flow when we took the slowboat, not the violent surging waters that engulf lives and threaten livelihoods. Similarly the lowlands of Bangladesh were dry and arable, not yet flooding and disastrous. The rains either followed in my wake or stopped before my arrival, ensuring the sun followed me wherever I went. Either that or I was following the sun; there certainly has been a healthy amount of sun-worship, as I catalogue every sunrise and sunset I see. 2013 has so far been a year of sunsets, and still I am in awe every time I see one. By the time I got rained on in Ethiopia, it was a refreshingly new sensation. I relished in it, not being able to remember the last time it rained. It just so happened that I left Ethiopia right before the onset of the wet season, arriving in Kenya just after the long rains had subsided.
Another huge blessing has been my health, which has held up through the constant changes in climate, elevation, sanitation and food. My stomach's fortitude has been tested and prevailed to date (touch wood). 'Delhi belly' was a condition I accepted as an eventuality, but in the end I eluded it. The horror stories about food in India leading to long-term intestinal inflammation and even suffocation are proof that my safe passage is no small victory. Similarly, fellow travelers had shared their terrible experiences with typhoid and malaria (sometimes both at the same time), and again I've been lucky enough to avoid these. Though I've been bitten by countless mosquitoes, the multitude of vaccines I was injected with has served me well.
My travels have allowed me to make lifelong friends, in countries where before I knew no one. I met my personal hero and role model, who not only did not disappoint, but imparted words of wisdom that I carry to this day. I experienced God through multiple world religions, and been blessed by each. I lived in huts on the beach and in a hippy commune. I've seen the wild animals of the savannah. But most of all, I've witnessed the conditions of the rural and urban poor, sharing laughter with the children and breaking bread with the people. I've met those wonderful individuals who are working towards a better future for the poor, and I've been inspired by their attitudes and actions. My understanding of the problems has deepened; the same problems keep recurring in different countries, giving hope that if we can solve them for one place, we have a good chance of replicating the solution everywhere.
Inevitably there are long stretches on the road where I am on my own. Being alone has not equated to loneliness, but instead has afforded me plenty of time for introspection. I've grappled with many an inner conflict about the appropriate thoughts and actions to adopt, as they apply to situations where traditional logic fails. Sometimes there are answers, sometimes only debate.
Through it all, every day is a reminder of how wonderful the world is. Life is still a dream.
