The Best of Both

The first half of my trip to Southeast Asia was spent with six curious, intelligent, adventurous friends.   Initially we had to get used to the lack of wireless devices for communication, but within a few days we adjusted to showing up in the lobby at a designated time.  I benefited from the groups exponential exploration and enjoyed the inquisitive conversation that ensued at our lively meals.  We laughed as we walked the steamy streets shaking our heads, sharing many "we're not in Kansas" moments.  I delighted in going with the flow of decision making, and letting others try to explain to the tuk tuk driver where we were trying to go.

An added bonus was sharing this experience with my cousin LN, and getting to know her as an adult.  We come from a small east coast Italian family and share a deep familial connection, but have not spent a lot of time together.  In January, over dinner in Hoboken I told her about the trip my brother and I were taking, her eyes lit up, and within days she had purchased a round trip ticket to Bangkok.  Although just beginning to explore the world beyond her backyard, LN was a fearless, easy going, competent traveler.   Her sense of adventure enhanced the group dynamic, as did her ability to divide the dinner bill each evening.  And her adeptness at taming wild curls in high humidity, invaluable!  While we were at the genocide museum in Cambodia I split my big toenail on a metal divider.  I completed the exhibit, but knew I needed some first aid.  On our way back to the hotel LN said she wanted to stay with Mr. Jed, our tuk tuk driver, and go to the firing range outside of town.  "Have fun",  I said only later contemplating what I would tell her parents if something went awry.  A few hours later LN came back, lit up like a Christmas tree, sharing video of her and Mr. Jed shooting AK47s.  Mr. Jed, whom she treated to the experience, said it was the best day of his life.

The second half of my trip was spent alone, traveling the length of Vietnam from the Mekong to the mountains of Sapa.   Being solo made it easier to engage with others, and my trip was greatly enhanced by the conversations I had with locals and foreigners.  At the temple My Son outside of Hoi An, I met an Israeli couple.  The woman, whose name currently escapes me, and I were living parallel lives.  We were both a year and half into a hiatus from the corporate world.  Our desire for something different and our philosophical outlook were so similar it was eerie.  In airport lounges, on buses, and in restaurants I never longed for companionship.  It was always there if I wanted it.  I value my independence, and my ability to navigate foreign lands with comfort and proficiency.   This experience gives me more conviction and strength to stay on the path when I return home.