Looking back

Bonn, Germany

Okay, I've been back home about two weeks now. Someone once said I'd have to be home for some time to appreciate all that I've seen and done and experienced. I think if you go on such a long trip you already digest as you go. So, all that remains now is to wrap up. There are some (big) gaps to fill in this blog and a lot of entries to backdate (I've been lazy for some months and sometimes just didn't have time). I hope there are still people interested (aside from myself). Once I'm finished this will be readable as a single piece from start to end, a complete account of my trip. Some people even suggested that this weblog should become a book. While I'm flattered by such praise, realistically I have my doubts. After all, isn't that what every traveler dreams of? Then again, who knows? Any publishers reading this, please leave a comment and I'll get back to you.
As a matter of fact I'm also curious how many people (if any) have followed this regularly (or as regularly as I've posted). Maybe you can leave a comment and I'll count?
In the meantime I thought I'll also do some recap. People often ask where the most interesting place was or the best food or the most beautiful girls. So, I'll try to answer these questions and some more since I've now had time to look back and evaluate.

Wrapping Up

Bonn, Germany

One year, three months and two weeks. Roughly. It seemed endless when I set off. But now, in retrospect, it feels more like a two week holiday. The day of my departure is still so vivid in my mind that it seems like yesterday. How could that have been more than a year ago. And while time seen moment by moment seemed long then it still rushed by, days becoming weeks becoming months becoming a year. And now I'm back wondering where it all went.
I've been home now for a few days. I'm amazed how quickly things have gone back to normal. The sun is lower here than in Southeast Asia. It's almost winter, so days are shorter - the sun goes down at five already. It's cold outside amd will get even colder, so that I have to wear a jacket and soon a sweater, too. Two out of three meals are cold and I miss hot congee or noodles or roti in the morning. I don't need to speak foreign languages anymore to make myself understood. And I know all the streets without a map. Of course, this is normal. Still, I had expected there would be a certain alien feel to it because of being away for so long but there isn't. A day after arriving I had already got back into a routine again. I don't have to think about what to do or where to go. I have to go to a shop and my feet carry me there without deliberation. I need to find something in the house and I just know where it is as I go to get it.
Already it's my trip that begins to feel unreal, like a dream that I've just woken up from. Scores of email addresses, thousands of photos and this diary the only reminder that it was real. And yet it's hard to imagine that at this time last week I was in Johor Bahru, Malaysia, half a globe away, preparing to cross the border to Singapore. Then I had to worry about transportation, changing money, booking accommodation. Now, my concerns are much more mundane, like what I'll do on the weekend or what's on TV or for dinner tonight. I've already placed (and received!) my first order with amazon - a new computer game.
I guess, there are two sides to this normality. There's a lurking sluggishness that makes you go on the way things are, not wanting to change anything or do anything different, essentially wasting your life. On the other hand, there are the things I mentioned last time: comfort and protection that let you relax and let down your guard, that make you feel at home. It'll be up to me to benefit from the refreshing comfort of my home but not give in to its inherent lure.
The world. It's so big. Enormous. Vast. And the more you see of it the more you realise that there is so much more still to see. One place leads to another, which leads to yet another and so on. It's maddening. A life-time is not (never) enough. With all these wonders, natural or man-made, ancient or modern, how can you choose? The opposite force of the above normality is greed. You want to see it all. I've met people who had traveled for years. Always on a shoe-string, hanging out at individual hostels for weeks planning their next trip or wondering what to do, waiting for some financial boost that would keep them going a while longer. Of course, it's difficult to see the world without money. And that's what you do need a home for. But there's a deeper lesson I learned: How can you appreciate the great wide world if you can't even appreciate you own home? People go on holiday and don't even realise what's just outside their own door. I used to be the same. But now, it's one I'm back here. I wouldn't want to go on traveling forever, even though I do sometimes envy those that do. I want to have a home, a job and a life, and I believe that even from a backpacking globe trotter point of view there's nothing wrong with that. As long as routine and sluggishness don't get the better of you, that is. This is where I make the money, gather the strength and lay out the plan. So, I'll go find a job, maybe a new place to stay, a life, and I'll dream of the days when I was free. And I'll prepare. So that the next time the world calls to me I'll be ready.

Still More Border Thoughts and Returning Home

Bonn, Germany

Technology has me in awe sometimes. The distance that I spent one year, three months and about two weeks covering on the outward journey up to Singapore only took a mere 12 hours on the return trip. For me it was only three movies and a nap later that my Boeing 747 touched down in Frankfurt and returned me to my home country. It was quite curious to see signs and hear announcements in German language again.

Then came the first culture shock. Passport check at the immigration check point. Wearily I bade the officer a good morning and was greeted with hardly a look and a grunt in return. Next to me I witnessed an Asian couple that presented their officer with a required document, not on paper but by showing her on the screen of their laptop computer. The officer inspected whatever was on the screen and with a stern "Next time you print it out, ya?" sent them on their way. Talk about German clichees. At this moment I was handed back my passport and, with a curt "thank you", allowed to set foot on German soil. After this sort of treatment - in my own home country no less - I'm not surprised anymore that many foreigners see us essentially as the Hollywood image of SS troopers. In countries far away from here I was greeted with, at least, a little smile or even a few friendly words but in my home country, my Vaterland: this. I don't feel very welcome. Probably only Russian (or American) border police can surpass their German counterparts in unfriendliness. You may say that there may be many people at these border check points that cause trouble or are just plain annoying. True. But I say, these men and women in uniform are the face of my country. They may well be the first Germans that foreigners interact with. Now imagine this as a first impression. I told all my friends during my trip that they would be welcome to come to Germany but these officers seem to do their best to make me a liar. I am sorely disappointed.

Later sitting on a train back to Bonn and a bus from the train station to my parents' house I marvel at the sights and sounds around me. I'm home. I witness my first sunrise over German fields again. I see all the castles along the Rhine that I've known since I was a child. There's a vague feeling of sadness, of conclusion, of loss, of all the things, places and, most of all, people I've left behind. Still, it doesn't feel as strange as I thought it would after being away in the a different part of the world for so long. I'm almost disappointed. But it is still home, after all. It's always been with me in a way. And it has hardly changed. And that's the really amazing part. While cities like Beijing and Singapore had changed a lot since my last visit two years ago Germany still was - felt - the same as before. As if time had stopped until I got back. A new shopping complex had opened near my family's house, some shops had changed or closed, buildings may have had a paint job but those are just details. The town of Bonn as a whole hasn't changed one bit. Traffic lights are still set to slow traffic down. On a Sunday morning bakeries are the only shops that are open. I have my first bread roll with cheese in one year, three months and two weeks. It tastes nice, familiar, and I don't care that it costs almost two Euros, which would be 20 Yuan or 10 Ringgit just for a bread roll with cheese. This is Germany and this is normal. Later, a neighbour is the first to spot me. She's eager to question me and I try to be patient. When she decides that her dog really needs to do its business now I finally get to walk the last few steps to our house. I am greeted with smiles and hugs. It's been an amazing trip, a great adventure, an exciting experience, a hundred valuable lessons, that last of which is this: As much as I loved and enjoyed the far-away countries, exotic foods and countless new acquaintances, now I can kick off my shoes, have my own room and let down my guard. There's no place like home and that will always be here.

The Road Goes Ever On

Singapore

It's very strange to be going home. I feel sad and also a certain happiness. I have two hours left at the airport and no idea what to do with them. I feel restless (and tired from last night's KTV). This is when I feel the loneliness of travelling alone again. I wish someone was here to keep me company but in the departure area I'm alone in the crowds. I've met so many people and somehow I miss them all at this very moment. I guess, that's the price of travelling. Always on the move you have to leave those behind that you grow to like or love, or be left behind by others that move on. But it's like Bilbo's old walking song:
"The road goes ever on and on [...] and I must follow if I can."

The Last Night

Singapore

I realised I just spent the last night of my trip. The next one will be on an airplane and the one after that in my own bed thousands of kilometers west-north-west of here in Germany. How do you spend the last night of a one year and three month journey?
I can only say I was very lucky to have met Elaine and Sylvester while climbing Mount Kinabalu, and had the chance to meet them again in Singapore. So, after spending an amazing afternoon with Elaine on Sentosa under a gorgeous sun and sharing a huge portion of Ben & Jerry's ice cream (slurp!) we met Sylvester. We first went for Ba Ku Teh (肉骨茶, Hokkien stewed pork ribs), proceeded to a selection of beers at a local microbrewery (burp) and finally crowned the evening with a Karaoke session that lasted until closing time at 4 am. The latter means, of course, that I'm both tired and slightly vocally challenged today (Linkin Park songs have that effect) but I couldn't have imagined a better conclusion. It was literally going with a bang. When the sun began to colour the eastern horizon grey I was still sitting at a small shop with Elaine drinking tea. I find myself wishing this night would never end. It's been an awesome ending for a memorable trip. Thank you so much guys!! Hope to see you again soon!

It's Almost Unreal

Singapore

No, this is not about the song by Roxette. But I do feel like this at the moment.
The realisation is hitting home that I have only 2 more days to my long holiday and this trip to the other side of the world. If you're going away for so long the end, going home, always seems to far in the future. You think that you have one entire year - such a long time to be away that it seems forever. You can stay in a place for a week because you like it, get stuck for another day or two because there are no train tickets available. Or in a single week you spend nights in three different hotels in three different locations, cities or even states. You think about your next destination, what you'll see next or about all the things that you have already seen. You meet some many people, some you get to know better because you hang around for a while, others are just brief acquaintances. Thus, being on the road becomes your life. You think in terms of hostels, train or bus connections, sights or activities. Like one new friend said, it would be cool to spend your entire life just wondering whether you'll go diving today or take a boat trip or which sights you'll visit. Home becomes a distant memory, the life you used to live. Sometimes missed, sometimes happily left behind. But to think "I'll be home soon" is just unreal. Surreal. I look outside and I see Singapore with its Chinese and Tamil street and shop signs, its food centres that serve curry and chicken rice; I sweat in the warm breeze even at night as I listen to people speaking Mandarin or Bahasa Melayu or Tamil. How could I be in Germany in just three days? How could all this change into German speaking bakeries and soon-to-open Christmas fairs?
The thought of going back to the old life evokes both a sense of relief to have a home again and sadness because the free life is coming to an end. It's bitter-sweet. It's the return to the real world. I knew it was coming of course but that's the point: it was always so far in the future. I've been in Asia for so long that I actually don't feel that much as a stranger here anymore. I feel comfortable. It's going back to Germany that makes me wonder whether I'll fit in, whether I'll feel restricted or confused by the way things are done there. It'll certainly be interesting.

Strange Encounters

Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia

Kota Kinabalu (KK for short) is a scary place at night sometimes. Streets are empty with just some cars or scooters speeding past. Still, it's not a wild cowboy town like Kuala Terengganu. There just seem to be a lot of dark parking lots. And in the parking lots things happen that happen in dark parking lots around the world. Just with a slight twist.
I'm not talking about the packs of stray dogs that raced past me on my last evening yesterday. I'm talking about Malaysian ladyboys. I had seen them in Thailand. In Malaysia with its Muslim society this was new. I guess it is the oldest profession in the world. No religion or society will ever change that. Walking around the parking lots at night (something I do sometimes to clear my head before going to sleep) seems to be the agreed invitation. The thing is that here in Malaysia they don't seem to make an effort to conceal their gender very much. I still remember the first encounter about three days ago when a shape emerged from the shadows cast by the dim street lights. He already whispered/mumbled something as he approached but I had no idea what he wanted. Then he came into view, dressed like a female but the face distinctly male, longish, pock-marked. I almost jumped when he came into full view. The situation was just eerie, like some strange apparition you'd expect in a film that you may not want to see more clearly, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. If I wanted "ice cream", he asked. I wonder if my thoughts and feelings showed on my face. "Ice cream", huh? I extracted myself as fast as possible. I wasn't afraid but I've rarely ever been as uncomfortable in somebody's presence. I wonder if he attracts many customers. Yesterday a younger, slightly more feminine boy offered me if "I wanted to try it" but was very apologetic and polite when I said no. I wonder what situation you have to be in to go out and ask random men if they would like you to give them a blowjob or have sex with them. It's not a cowboy town here. Still, at night it's a very strange place.

Welcome to the Jungle

Kinabatangan Forest Reserve, Malaysia

For this experience I actually have to thank Mattias and Kirsty. They had been here before climbing Mount Kinabalu and had told me of all the wildlife they had seen. Most notably, the forest reserve in the southeast of Sabah is home to wild orang utans. I had been in Thailand and never ridden an elephant, one of my major regrets, so I thought it would be stupid to come to Borneo and pass up the chance at seeing orang utans. They are something of the trademark animal of Sabah (very similar to the attention the greater panda gets in China). You can buy orang utan souvenirs, posters, soft toys, etc. everywhere. The hostel organised three-day trips here and since I had no other plans until I had to fly back to Johor Bahru I decided to go for it.
At the same time, I tried to keep my expectations low. I had been disappointed in the much more famous Taman Negara and the weather forecast didn't look too positive.
This trip took off on a much more optimistic note, however. On the transfer from the main road to the hotel in the park we already spotted monkeys, a large monitor lizard and a crocodile napping on the bank of the river. And it went on like this. The weather was fair, it only rained a bit at night. The MO here is also a very different one. There is fairly little trekking. The Kinabatangan is a river that runs through the reserve, so most of the time you get taken for boat trips up and down the river. A bit more for the lazy-minded maybe but I was quite glad. My legs were still killing me from the Mount Kinabalu hike. Walking up and especially down the stairs to my chalet was torture. So, I didn't complain about sitting around in a boat. The schedule was as follows: start with an evening boat ride, a night walk after dinner (more leeches - how I had missed them, and this time I only had shorts!), an early morning boat ride, day time jungle trekking (more leeches), another evening boat ride followed by another night walk (guess what) and a final morning boat trip.
Here there was really a lot of wildlife. The really impressive thing about Kinabatangan was the number and variety of monkeys. On the first boat ride alone we saw species from small hectic macaques up to the characteristic proboscis monkey (I'm proud I remember that English name, it's so complicated - why not call it "nose monkey" as in other languages?). The latter we saw quite often and in large numbers. Our guide explained that the screeching sounds we heard were the females while the males only make a soothing nasal honking sound, which sounds a lot like a resigned "be quiet". How they resemble humans! The first night walk was then crowned by a huge empress scorpion. Not as dangerous as it looks, explained our guide, since its sting is only as poisonous as a wasp's. With scorpions it's "the smaller the more venom". We also saw lots of birds (which I'm not so interested in) including several species of kingfishers, hornbills and some other huge insects. The next day went on like this. Taman Negara seemed like a wasteland compared to this place. More birds, lizards, monkeys and finally, during our evening boat ride, the big climax of the trip: Orang utans. An old male lazing around in a tree and a younger female teaching her baby how to move around the branches. I'm sure we stayed an hour at the two spots watching them. Technically, they don't do much except sit - while little monkeys are always active. Still, there's something mysteriously captivating about these big apes that have so much in common with us. You feel them leisurely looking back at you. It was hard to move on. On the last day, when leaving the reserve we still saw a wild boar with her young crossing the road. We might have even seen pygmy elephants (and actually did find some poo) but it's not elephant season now.
At the same time I also realised some of the dangers to this reserve. Aside from the boats that may or may not disturb the animals (I'm sure it's entertainment for the monkeys) more and more wild forest outside the 26,000 hectare reserve gets eaten up by oil palm plantations. And modern methods and technology allow development of even the more difficult terrain on hill sides. Of course, the plantations are also home to wildlife but I wonder if there are as many species as in the natural forest. Looking out over the endless rows of oil palms I hope to God that this is regulated somehow. It would be so sad to come back here and find all the animals gone. I also still wonder what the difference between a national park and a reserve is. Care to enlighten me?