To continue to discover new lands, one must time and time again, leave firm ground. Coming to Queen’s, a place I now consider home, was a milestone in a period of personal, academic and professional growth. Living and working abroad, however, was the braver decision. Following a strong impulse for adventure, looking to learn in new and exciting ways required more strength, passion and determination than any decision previously taken. However, not for a moment did I regret my choice, because for some of us, the journey in itself is home. I don’t want to tell you about how this was my first time abroad, nor praise it for having changed my outlook on the world. I want to tell you about how my experience in Singapore consolidated a relentless dedication to explore faraway places and cultures.
If you’re anything like me, you want to collect moments as opposed to things. You want to observe dynamics changing, patterns of behaviour and last but not least, you want to observe yourself – in different contexts and spaces, allow yourself to be surprised in ways you didn’t think are possible. The lens which colours your life on exchange is responsible for a distinct worldview. The patience of someone who is not, for once, rushing to get from class to club meeting to volunteering to work, complemented by curiosity, uncovers a new student. A student of people, of stories and languages. It is with those eyes that every time I arrive back to where I started, I know the place for the very first time.
Living and studying abroad – which I was so incredibly lucky to be able to do in Singapore, and working at the Asia Research Institute, were by far one of the more challenging and humbling experiences of my life. They taught me to observe before acting, and double-check my instincts. As a history and political science student in Singapore, categorized to be a soft-authoritarian state, I was soon categorized to be a “know-all Westerner, critical of state planning and of tough-on-crime governmental attitude”. There were tutorials in which I was the only person to openly criticize a state policy. I never thought there can be social repercussions to the critical thinking skills I valued so much. Sometimes, it was easier to be critical than constructive. I had unknowingly become a stereotype. Along the way however, I realized how many more ways of learning are open to us and how to change my frame of reference when I’m asked to analyse information. I began to be able to carry my point across without perpetuating the myths I was so sceptical of myself. Stepping outside of the boxes created for us and by us, I found a flexible mindset, willing to adapt rather than convince, willing to listen rather than talk. I hope that attitude will never change.
You’re lucky. You had the opportunity to travel, to see a new culture from the inside. Regardless of how your experience actually unravelled, you were one of the few that had a unique chance to live somewhere new, to meet new people and ultimately, to accumulate a lot of knowledge about a topic previously new to you. But what is the point of this knowledge? How are you supposed to store it, share it, use it, apply it?
Perhaps one of the biggest challenges of travellers, of digital nomads and of those who adopt travelling as a lifestyle is that of sharing content, of sharing insights and impressions, of sharing a story about the effect of a journey. When you’re on the road, you feel as if you’re going to remember every single detail, every smell and every flavour, and you will have the perfect words to describe it to your friends or loved ones. However, this might not be the case. As new experiences go, travelling is definitely an overload, a layering of novel sensations and perceptions, and can be overwhelming. Remembering it in detail is thus naturally, even more overwhelming.
In my view, the most important aspect a story needs is detail – passionate, accurate and lively detail. So what can you do to be able to remember?
How to share once you’re back is just as tricky. A lot of the time, I found that friends and family will have their own set of expectations about what your time abroad consisted of. Sometimes, it can go something like this:
“Oh my gosh, you must have had such an amazing time in Singapore”
“Well…yes, it was really fun, but it was not always fun and there were a lot of things that were challenging”
By no means does this imply that the person travelling is not grateful for the opportunity given. It does not mean they did not learn from it, and it does not mean they do not appreciate the chance they had to travel. But experiences are never completely one sided, so in order to fully capture the complexity of time spent away, one will have to share both positive and negative.
Lastly, it’s important to note that both remembering and sharing are skills that you learn in time. While some people are great storytellers with minimal effort, most of us have to work at improving the way in which we learn and share. So don’t be discouraged if your first attempt ends up being a laundry list of events, or a disjointed explanation of travel mishaps. This is something you can improve and work on.
Happy travels!
“The travel bug”: one of those idioms that has slowly entered our lexicon without much thought or analysis. Its popularity, however, seems to be soaring, especially among digital nomads, students and youth, as well as the adventurous.
Where does the travel bug come from and what exactly is it though? How is this different from a passion for adventure?
In my view, the travel bug can mean a variety of things. It can be taking a year off between your steps in an academic career, a break between employment, time to learn a new skill or language, the desire to know different cultures, people and customs, or simply the desire to leave behind everything you know for the open road.
This is however, not a new concept. Literature and history alike inform us of men and women who have travelled continents and oceans in order to do the exact same. Their desire to know more of the world, to explore and gain knowledge led them to be explorers, researchers, intellectuals and thinkers. But they had no time limit on their travels. They did not need to fit their lives into any particular mould, and in most cases, they continued travelling, or in fact, never returned to their original location. These are not the people we imagine when we think about the concept of the travel bug. Instead, we call them migrants, and we do not see their journeys as motivated by the same motif as those who ascribe to the travel bug syndrome.
One possible definition for this spirit of adventure, in the words of Che Guevara: ( cliche, I realize, but I just recently watched The Motorcycle Diaries)
What we had in common – our restlessness, our impassioned spirits, and a love for the open road.
What used to be a state of mind, a conception of the world and the way you want to engage with it, has been transformed into a syndrome, a condition that one can simply deal with, and be over with soon after. The meaning of adventure has been concentrated and simplified into this idea of a travel bug, which not only minimizes its scope but downplays its impact as well. Whereas travelling for the sake of travelling, for the pursuit of knowledge and learning, used to be a goal into itself, the way in which our society conceptualizes of the travel bug is as a defined, short period of time in which one has to tackle one’s sense of restlessness and more often than not, attempt to get it ouf of one’s system. The travel bug, a seemingly harmless ideas, has a more complex undertone than we think, and speaks of larger societal misconceptions about those unable or unwilling to settle down, to become responsible members of society, to contribute in one particular way. The desire to adventure has become an ill of society, a sign that one is unable to function in a certain prescribed way, and the travel bug scenario has become the patchy, band-aid solution to it. Those who refuse or simply cannot give up their desire to continue travelling are labelled as nomads, unfit to receive the same benefits from the state as those who contribute on a regular basis.
Why have we abandoned the appreciation we once had for those restless enough and passionate enough as to explore the farthest corners of the planet, the most remote areas of civilization? Why do we box in experiences in such a way as to remove their originality and potential for unique characteristics? The travel bug, in my view, is just another expression of this attempt to take an experience that was once organic, natural and valued, and replace it with a pre-determined itinerary.
Of course this topic would come up. Long distance relationships. Because let’s face it, more often than not, we are forced into having one of the most dreaded conversations a relationship could trigger.
“Well, I really want to go on exchange…”
“That’s great!…But what about…?
You probably dread this conversation as much as I did. Or if you’ve already had it, you understand why it has an aura of both mystery and fear from most couples. The temptation of commitment versus the alleged freedom can be a very tricky choice, and in the short term, feel like a burden on your excitement.
I am not an advocate of either verdict. I have tried both, with varying results. What I do want to write about briefly today, however, are the types of questions and considerations you should give some thought to before jumping on any side of this conondrum.
“Let’s stick it out” – case involves:
A very popular term in a lot of travel communities is gypsy. The romanticized and even idealized concept of gypsy involves a nomadic lifestyle, few material possessions and perhaps most importantly, a free spirit. A concept tempting to a young, seemingly unattached student, correct? While there is nothing wrong with ascribing to any of the above, it is however a misnomer to call oneself a gypsy.
Why? Let’s look at the definition of the term:
Gypsy: A member of a traveling people with dark skin and hair who speak Romany and traditionally live by seasonal work, itinerant trade, and fortune-telling. Gypsies are believed to have originated in the Indian subcontinent.
I doubt many backpackers and digital nomads earn their living from seasonal work and fortune-telling, and I also doubt any of them speak Romany. If I am wrong, please do tell me so. While in a digitized, globalized world is it quite easy for one to do contract work or freelance writing independent of location, this is not what the seasonal work of most Roma people ( Roma is the politically correct term for Gypsies).
Most Roma people live in South and Eastern Europe as illegal and undocumented immigrants. The Roma have a rich history and a set of unique cultural and religious practices. In fact, they are ruled by a King, their own legal system called the Romani Code, as well as internal institutions which are responsible for enforcing these laws and regulations.They are often intentionally excluded from any form of community participation. The Roma are discriminated against in countries where their communities are sizeable. Ethnic cleansing groups in Hungary are known to terrorize and attempt to drive out the Roma people living on the outskirts of their villages. More information can be found here about the Hungarian case: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-13206261
The Roma have never had a homeland, and it is very unlikely they will ever have one. As such, many of them have established communities wherever they find work or charitable communities. Stereotypes of Roma as thieves and criminals in recent times has decreased their chances of social integration. Communities of Roma are usually isolated ghetto-like settlements. Roma people survive under the poverty level more often than not, with minimal access to education, health care and consequently, employment. Many governments, such as those of Italy or Spain, have instead turned a blind eye to the lack of social security Roma face. Instead, many are detained or deported to a country of previous residence.
Throughout history, the Roma have had to move from country to country in order to avoid persecution. A less known fact is that more than 1 million Roma peoples were killed during the Holocaust, and many of their possessions were destroyed or taken away. Only recently has their plight been recognized by opening a Roma exhibit in the Auschwitz Holocaust Museum. Again, more information here: http://en.auschwitz.org.pl/h/index.phpoption=com_content&task=view&id=11&Itemid=3
While travelling has become a lifestyle more and more people adhere to, conflating a voluntary decision to leave behind family and friends in order to learn about new countries and cultures is nothing like the constant need of Roma people to migrate in order to earn their living. You might be a new-age nomad, but you are most definitely not a Gypsy. Claiming to lead a similar lifestyle is not only offensive to the Roma, who are forced by political and public pressure, but also to the history and persecution they faced.
For those of us approaching graduation, or even thinking about the possibility of graduate school, the idea of a gap year will sound quite familiar. Popular in many instances, such as between highschool and undergraduate studies or between a Bachelor and Master’s degree, the gap year has quite a number of supporters, but just as many critics.
More often than not, the gap year is associated with travelling. A lot of young graduates dream of catching the first train after their convocation ceremony, others make plans to drive across the country or even the coast, while for some, the idea of a romantic getaway with their university sweetheart seems equally enchanting. Whether you are also thinking about something similar or not, here are a few thoughts on the possible benefits and drawbacks of taking a gap year before you apply to graduate school.
Benefits:
As students, we are used to a particular style of learning. Very little of our process of incorporating new concepts and practices in our lifestyles is experiential, while the main focus remains academic and theoretic.
Taking oneself out of the curriculum-based, knowledge-oriented environment can lead to the impression that learning has stopped. No more nights of studying, no more coffees, no more highlighters and journal articles you care little about. You decide to travel instead, to see the world, to perhaps be one of those people with lots of Facebook pictures from South East Asia for Europe. But what does your decision really imply? And what is your motif? What are you really looking for?
Joanna Plucinska, Queen’s Politics 2012, shares her thoughts on Parisian travels:
Many young people associate traveling with a certain type of experience, whether it’s going to ‘find yourself’, or to party with foreigners that you meet in your hostel, or to explore museums and galleries. There is a prescribed set of advantages that one is expected to get from going on a trip to a given place. Your guidebook sets expectations for cleanliness, attractions, and hospitality. But, in truth, the experience of traveling for each individual, even if to the same location, may be completely different depending on a multitude of variables involved. It can be altered by your travel partners, the particular social norms you are accustomed to at the time, or the resources you have immediately available to you – ultimately, if you choose to go off the beaten track, you might discover unexpected parts of your given location.
For example, the world, and many a tourist, has fallen in love with Paris. The cafes, the architecture, the cathedrals, the museums, the fashion are glamorized in films, tv shows and books. Many tourists will choose to recreate this glamorous image in Paris by staying at a nice hotel, having saved a comfortable sum of cash for all of the French wine they plan to drink in bistros. They will indulge in coffee and patisseries in the cafes wearing red lipstick and smoking cigarettes, pretending to be truly ‘Parisienne’. It is undeniable that this side of Paris exists, but it is most definitely not the only facet of the city to explore. As a broke backpacker staying in a youth hostel in the North African quarter, you will unavoidably see a completely different side of the city. What many tourists miss is the dirty underbelly of Paris. The garment district, the North of Paris, or the banlieues are in no way the romantic ideals that one envisions when flipping through one’s guidebook. But, it is there that you might find the best kebab or random trinket. While Paris is not always sparkling and chic – rampant poverty in the immigrant neighbourhoods and rats crawling through the train stations at night are a reality to be faced – it does not mean that there is not something to learn from these parts that are not emphasized in your tour book. While Paris might seem to be a shimmering beacon of sophistication to many, it also hides a harsh, yet surprisingly fascinating reality that is uncovered to the cheap, unpretentious and curious tourist.
The point is, that it all depends on the situations you put yourself in when traveling. With a bit of aimless wandering or savvy inquiry, one may discover a side of their given destination that is completely unexpected. Just as there are multiple facets to Paris, and to most cities, there will be multiple facets to every traveller’s experience – there is no ‘proper’, uniform way to travel.
Going on exchange in South East Asia proved to highlight similar contrasts between traveling styles and goals. Depending on whether you choose to immerse yourself to the fullest on your new campus or you decide to leave campus every weekend to explore a new country, you will have highly distinct experiences. Traveling in a small compact group with close friends or in large university-organized groups will also be an important factor in dictating what you see and consequently, on how a new places will impact you.
So before you pack you bag, decide what you want to see. The glamour, the shopping and the stories you’ve heard might be far away from your travel reality. Most of the times, going on vacation and going traveling end up being two highly different things depending on mindset and budget, so setting expectations will ensure you won’t be overwhelmed or disappointed. Before anything else, ask yourself what you’re looking for.
“You’re going on exchange to Singapore? Oh, you are going to gain 10 pounds!”
When going on exchange began to sink in, food was definitely one of the things I was excited about. However, little did I know I was moving to food paradise for 4 months. With a mixed ethnic background and a multitude of cultures, Singapore boasts itself as a major food centre. Not only does the variety completely overwhelm the tourist, but the cheap prices make it seem like a necessity to try as much as possible.
Needless to say, in my first week here, everything seemed absolutely delicious. Also, everything was the price of a Canadian bagel, so feasts ensued. Between Malay, Indian, Chinese, Singaporean and Western food, the choices are endless.
The culture of food, however, is quite different in Singapore. Most people eat at hawker centres, avoiding a packed lunch, or a communal family dinner. Food is something to be ordered and enjoyed with friends or a beer, but never with the newspaper or a book. Surprises did not end here however:
Travelling in South East Asia is a culinary rich and amazingly varied experience, so make sure you try as many things as possible ( granted , sometimes you might not know what you are eating!) Enjoy!
A bit overdue, but I know I have to write a post on Saigon, otherwise known as Ho Chi Minh City. After 20 years of living in democracy, here I am excited as I haven’t been in a long time to go into a communist country. What did I expect? I thought I would notice the difference between Vietnam and Cambodia and Thailand ( visited previously), that I would have strong negative reactions towards political propaganda posters, and perhaps draw some comparisons between Vietnam and my experience growing up in a freshly-post communist country.
Saigon was however, none of these things. Much more alive, more dynamic and more colourful than some of its neighbours, Saigon felt homey. Strange, isn’t it? I am not here to defend political regimes and most definitely not defend a political ideology over which millions have died, but I do want to point out talk a bit about perspective, memory and conflict.
Naively, I expected Saigon to bear visible witness, as an urban centre of 9 million people, of the war. I thought there would be anti-American propaganda and I thought I would be perhaps a tiny bit more distant from the obsessive capitalism which has taken over places like Bangkok or Singapore. But I was not. To quote an overly sarcastic Lonely Planet writer, “the Vietnamese are born to trade, to talk loudly and to negotiate, ironically they remain one of the few Communist countries.”
To get to the elephant in the room, I could not miss a visit to the War Remnants Museum in Saigon. If there was little anti-American material within the city, it is because it was also beautifully curated inside the walls of the museum. A collection which covers the war in breath and depth, it is one of the better museums I have seen put together over the years. I was impressed, humbled and touched by the way in which the museum memorialized the war experience of Vietnamese , Australian and American soldiers, nurses, doctors, photographers and civilians. The up-to-date collection had testimonies, case studies, haunting photographs and a lot of other memorabilia.
After my visit, however, I stumbled upon a multitude of critical accounts of the museum from some of the travel bloggers I tend to follow. Apparently the museum is uncomfortable to an American visitor, and is lacking a lot of information.
But what museum is complete? How do you tell a nation’s and a war’s history fully acknowledging the stories of both sides? When each side contains such diametrically opposed assumptions and political strategies, can you reasonably expect a museum to be equally critical of both sides? The War Remnants Museum is an obvious case of a nation building tool, and the Vietnamese government cannot be expected to be as self-critical as perhaps, we might expect it to.
What underlies these reactionary feelings towards the museum? When thinking about what travelling adds to our live, we often realize the benefit of a new culture, and praise food, music, living arrangements, clothing and differences in creating human bonds. But it seems, quite often, we forget that travelling also places us in a different intellectual culture. The Cambodian national museum is a tribute to grandeur, which visitors find empty beyond the architectural beauty, while the Thai national museum is entirely a place to praise the King. Compared to these two examples, it seemed to me the Vietnamese War Remnants Museum had put on an intellectually challenging exhibition, and had surpassed a lof of the region’s museum in both quality and structure.
What assumptions do we come in when we visit a museum? What kind of national stories have we heard throughout our education, and why do we expect to find nations as self-critical as those steeped in Western tradition? On the road, you will also face another way of learning , about yourself and about the past, and museums such as those mentioned above teach you just as much by being so radically different and strangely uncomfortable from what you are used to.
Rather than criticizing the Saigon museum, it would be more interesting to look at the reasons underlying the museum, at what a Vietnamese family’s reaction is to the museum, and at the demographics of visitors. There is more value in re-learning how to learn.
From them same series, here’s a little something on travelling. If the plane ticket to get to your host university was expensive enough, and between all the accommodation fees, meal plan fees and other random expenses, you feel like going away was not the best idea for your bank account, travelling will become a double sword: both the exciting weekend adventure you look forward to and at the same time, the extra burden on your already limited spending capacity.
If you find yourself in a similar situation, proving to be flexible with your travel can take you a longer way. Far from glamorous but nonetheless just as thrilling, travelling on a student budget can end up teaching you a thing or two about saving money, ironically enough!
Whatever the case, remember being frugal does not mean you can’t have fun. You’re most likely surrounded by friends and you’re in a new environment, so there is plenty to enjoy!