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neytinintransit · 7 years

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you winsum you dimsum (ed 1.)

The burnout is happening. I’m not sure if I’ve described this sensation in my other posts, but travel burnout is probably one of the biggest threats to your trip. It’s up there with bed bugs, malaria, and deciding to rent a motorcycle to ride around Bangkok during rush hour (ooooo foreshadowing). Reasons for travel burnout include, but are not limited to, excessive drinking, overpacked schedules, sleep deprivation, and tourist trap syndrome. Last time I experienced travel burnout, I had just traversed all of Rome (or as much as humanly possible) in the span of 24-hours, developed shin splints and blisters on the bottom of my feet, and caught one of the nastiest colds I’ve ever had. And it made me want to go back to the safe-haven that is home.

Thankfully, this time around is a little different. I’m shin splint/blister-free, I haven’t developed a nasty cold, and I don’t have any strong urges to go home (if anything, I probably just need to curb my drinking). In fact, I really really want to stay here in Hong Kong. So much so that I might extend my trip and fly back here for an extra week.

When I was working in Stockholm a few years back, I was pretty distant from any Asian community- so when, and if, I ever heard someone speak Cantonese, I immediately felt some form of connection to them. Beyond the language, it was the subtleties in their intonations and gestures that reminded me of the loud, bustling 99 Ranch supermarkets my Grandma would take me to in Alhambra. I later learned from my good friend (always) and coworker (at that time) Ray that this connection I felt was called an “invisible community.” Even though these people speaking Cantonese in the subway were complete strangers, I felt that we shared some underlying cultural understanding for one another. And we did. Even in California, a.k.a. my natural turf, I would have my “Canto buddies” (s/o to Terry and Suyu from the 609 struggs).

For the first time in my life, this community became completely visible. In Hong Kong, everybody was a Canto buddy. And unlike my original predictions, people were actually willing to speak with me, even though my speech quite broken at times. I still can’t put it into words, but for some reason hearing and speaking Cantonese makes me so happy. It’s also interesting how rapidly language skills can return if they’ve been sewn into you at a young age.

Beyond the language, there were plenty of other cultural tidbits that made me a very happy child. Like most good things do, we’ll start with the food. Right after finding our Airbnb that coincidentally sat on Nathan Rd. in MongKok, Eric and I set out for some midnight exploration of the neighborhood. Unlike most places we’ve been, the streets were still bustling past 12 AM. To be honest, we were just looking for some dank chicken nuggets from McDonalds. Thankfully, the usually trustworthy fast-food joint for a midnight snack was closed, forcing us to continue our wandering quest for the noms. As you’ve probably guessed from the photo above, we stumbled upon a pretty tasty dim sum place called dimdimsum. If there’s anything I learned about Hong Kong, it’s that there’s probably a Michelin star restaurant within a ten minute walk of you no matter where you are in the city. We found the closest restaurant with a line, waited, and ended up at one of the best dim sum restaurants in town.

As usual, we got off to quite a late start the morning after our feast. Luckily, Mongkok was a place of outdoor markets and vendors selling everything from pajamas to Pokémon cards to goldfish, so there wasn’t much to travel before we found something interesting. I know it’s been almost a decade and a half since my mother’s been to Hong Kong, but I could almost see her running up and down the stalls looking for those Pokémon cards that I always eagerly looked forward to when she returned from her trips. Thinking about topics like these always hit me with a tinge of nostalgia. Even though they were fake, I appreciated each and every one of those flashy, laminated pieces of paper. My friends always laughed at me for them, and I admit I did feel kind of lame, but I was still proud and happy.

Beyond those stalls, Mongkok is also famous for its broad, diverse goldfish market, though the term goldfish may be a little misleading. In addition to the assorted collection of goldfish, we saw all sorts of tropical fish, turtles, coral, and maggots (for bait, I hope). Walking around there made we wonder what it must’ve been like leading a career that revolved around selling goldfish. And not only that, but being one of the twenty other shops littered across the same block doing the same thing.

After we were finished perusing the different little shops and buying nothing, we skipped our way over to Central to grab some grub with my good friend Charmaine. For the rest of this post, we’ll refer to her as Charmander because that’s apparently what her students call her when they can’t pronounce her name, and I think that’s too cute to let up. On the way to the restaurant, we got caught in a massive downpour that came out of nowhere. It reminded me of those Chinese dramas I’d watch with my parents as a kid. Ironically, rain always appeared to be the tool that sparked the most romantic scenes. The guy and the girl would run for shelter, hand-in-hand, only to find themselves drenched in love. Nowadays, bleeding those cheesy words from my finger tips makes me a little queasy, but I must’ve liked it at some point in time. Unfortunately, there was no girl there for me to prance around in the rain with. It was just me and Eric, and we were soaked. Eventually, we met up with Charmander a little behind schedule, and the food and ketch-up was great.

Originally, we had plans to hike Dragon’s Back, but after a storm like that, we were a bit wary of getting caught in between that and our hike. So instead, we sought out what we thought would be an equivalent, but safer and closer hiking route called Victoria Peak. When we arrived, we were greeted with crowds and crowds of tourists lining up to board the tram that supposedly took us to the top- a red flag for a tourist trap if I’ve ever seen one.

Unfortunately, the top of the tram was completely commercialized, feeding us into a four-story mall before showing any doorway that led to the outside world. They even designed the escalators such that you’d have to walk around the entire mall to find the pathway to the next floor. But if there’s anything Hong Kong taught me, it’s that if you take aim and wander in any direction, you’ll eventually find something cool. So being the free-spirited people that Eric and I are, we left the building and just started walking up.

And up was undoubtedly the right way to go, because about an hour in, we found a little slice of heaven. We climbed so high into the mountains that we literally found ourselves up on Cloud Nine. Up close, they looked like little bits of cotton candy drifting about, hurrying off in whatever direction the wind took them. Occasionally, we’d be lucky enough to walk by a cloud that drifted straight through us. I can’t remember the last time a view had taken my breath away like that. I’m slowly starting to realize that the clouds in Asia are exceptionally beautiful during the summer due to typhoon season. Hot, heavy, humid downpour sucks in every little way it can suck, but I guess there’s always two sides to every coin.

Other aspects also made the climb feel like an entirely different world. There was lush greenery and beautiful, exotic flowers everywhere we looked. And the butterflies were so large, they looked like little humming birds fluttering about. Three years ago, I had managed to get one of those little critters to fly on my hand. It took a good amount of patience, for I think I must’ve slowly followed it for about fifteen minutes. Eric and I tried to do the same, and at one point, one of the butterflies did get curious since it kept flying to and fro. I think the fact that there were two people may have been too intimidating for the fragile little guy.

Pictured above: the struggles of neytin going out in Asia because of his fountain-like nature and Jenny being Jenny. One of the tidbits that I did appreciate was the fact that Eric and I always made time to freshen up before a night out. As expected, the summer humidity in Asia was something our bodies were completely unprepared for, and we would always be covered in this musk of (un)dried sweat by midday. Obviously, you could always say that a shower before going out was useless because, well, look at what happened to me; but the rinse off and mini siestas needed to happen. If we were already feeling symptoms of burnout, I can’t imagine what would’ve transpired had we not taken some time out to rest.

Since my mom’s time (sorry mum, you’re really not that old), people have flocked to Lan Kwai Fong (LKF) for a bustling nightlife. I thought it was pretty cool how everything felt so central. In Seoul, you had Hongdae, Itaewon, and Gangnam depending on how deep you wanted to dig yourself into debt. But in Hong Kong, it was all here.

We ended up going to some club called Play. Because Jenny and Amy lagged us so much, Eric and I didn’t get there until after the club started charging cover fees. Luckily, I somehow met this girl named Denise who snuck us in behind the bouncer and let us chill at her table behind the DJ. For me, this whole ‘behind the DJ business was a first and likely a last, but some people do this every single weekend. It’s one thing to be well off, but I can’t even imagine living a lifestyle where I’m burning hundreds to thousands of dollars booking tables to have a good night out. Part of me is grateful for that fact, but I'm still glad I was able to pocket that experience in my bag of memories.

Waking up the next morning was one of the more excruciating bits of this trip. At the start of this post, I talked about how travel burnout started to set in, and I think the sparks and embers caught flame that morning. I don’t remember how much sleep we got that night, but it certainly wasn’t enough to fuel whatever we had planned the next day. We woke up with the perfect combination of groggy, grumpy, and hungover as we began to make our way over to the Big Buddha. On the hour and a half train ride to the cable car, I found myself falling asleep while I was holding onto railing, but if you were following Eric’s snaps throughout the trip then I guess a snoozy Nathan wasn’t something new. It was more so the exhaustion that gnawed at the back of my eyes that drilled a sore sense of frustration into my being.

When we finally made it to the cable car, we began our lengthy ascent toward the castle in the sky. I think I discovered my fear of heights that day- or maybe any sensible human being would be scared to find themselves suspended hundreds of feet off the ground- but I was probably the most petrified one in the car. Some parents were laughing at how scared I was and making remarks to each other in Cantonese, thinking I couldn’t understand. In response, I shouted “I’m scared to death!” in Cantonese, which understandably startled the old couple. After I got used to the not-so-gentle, stormy rocking of the container that was responsible for my life, the ride up became one of the most memorable, surreal parts of my trip.

One thing I learned is that widespread commercialization is a thing of all large tourist attractions, and the Big Buddha definitely wasn’t an exception. If you could tell, that cable car took us deep into the mountains. I think the whole thing lasted about 20-30 minutes, and it kept going up and up and up. But when we finally reached our mystical village hidden in the clouds, we were greeted with a number of souvenir shops and, of course, your friendly neighborhood Starbucks.

That didn’t take away from the fact that the Big Buddha was one of the most amazing things we saw throughout our trip. The thing was massive, and it was a ton of fun exploring the general area. When we walked past the Big Buddha, we found a temple that was in the middle of service. It was called the Hall of Ten-Thousand Buddhas (I think), and it quite literally had ten thousand Buddhas inside. Hearing the chants and seeing the prayers take place in the temple hit me with a jab of nostalgia. I remember when my grandpa passed away, we would go to the temple almost every week and recite these long, and at that point, indecipherable texts. Even though I didn’t understand what I was saying, I knew that I was praying for my grandpa’s soul and, equally so, my family members who had been heavily mourning his death. He had a stroke during my childhood, so I wasn’t able to interact or speak with him much throughout my life even though we shared the same roof for a good portion of it. However, I always heard these amazing stories of how great a man he was, and as odd as it is, I felt like I still knew him quite well. I wonder what type of stories my children will tell my grandchildren about me, if I were to ever get to that point in my life.

After wandering for a bit, the exhaustion really began to set in. It got to the point where we weren’t really able to enjoy our surroundings, so we decided to make way for home. As if fate had an opposition to us leaving, we were struck with really heavy downpour on our way out. Eric and I were smart enough to leave our umbrellas at the club last night (we weren’t even drunk), so if we spent a good five seconds in the rain we would’ve been soaked head to toe. We ended up taking refuge under a small roof with a pack of stray dogs that had decided to set up camp at the Big Buddha. It’s always interesting seeing how stray dogs interact with the world. I’ve always seen dogs as these little creatures full of life and love. Whenever I come home, Charley and Toby always race toward me with excitement and energy, and they always want to play. It almost feels like that when these strays lost their owners, they also lost that child-like excitement that bubbles out of other dogs.

We eventually made our way down and had our first taste of Tim Ho Wan, a Michelin-star dim sum restaurant. I grew up in Southern California and spent much of my time in the 626 area/Rowland Heights, so I’m not stranger to dim sum. But listen to me here when I tell you that that shit was the dankest/dopest/tastiest unf fuck I want some now tbt withdrawals someone help. Anyway, it tasted really good.

After eating a months-worth of food, we headed back to the good ‘ol apartment at Nathan Rd. We took a long nap, and then headed out to meet the one and only KARINA HWANG! For those of you who don’t know her, Karina and I met through CASC and held a few leadership camps in Beijing. Throughout all of those experiences, I felt like she was almost an older sister to me, and I grew a lot because of her. I really missed being stupid and laughing about all these outrageous things (She picked my nose once. Both nostrils, two fingers, in public), and it was nice to see her again.

We got a few drinks and ate some Korean food, then Eric and I parted with Karina and made way to the same club we went to the night before. We ran into Denise and her crew again at the back of the DJ, and I hung out with a few Princeton people. In all honesty, the night was pretty rough. Eric and I got into a pretty big argument at the end of it all, and we could say that it was because of multiple factors, but at the end of the day, I think the exhaustion just really got to us. That was a major lesson for me: rest is important, and even though I’m traveling, I’m still living a certain kind of day-to-day. Thankfully, Eric and I bounce back from these dips pretty easily, so everything was fine the next day.

We learned our lesson, so our last few hours spent in Hong Kong consisted of eating and chilling at a cafe. Eric and I actually accidentally stumbled upon another Michelin-star restaurant. We just picked the most crowded looking ramen joint on the street, and as we were walking in to be seated, I pointed at this little Michelin-looking guy and looked at Eric in shock.

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Hong Kong was the point in our travels where we began having thoughts of staying in Asia longer- of diverging from our original plan, and creating new pathways that we thought would make us happier. Eric really wanted to go back to Seoul, and I wanted to stay in Hong Kong. Every time we mentioned regret of spending too little time in a certain location or felt as though we were going to the wrong place, we would always reply with the same remark: “It’s OK, we didn’t know.” But now we did, and we had to make the decision of whether or not we should use that knowledge to shape the near-future. Of course, flexible planning like that comes with a cost, and that was the trade-off. This was where I really began to understand the costs of procrastination, and the difficulty of having enough foresight for effective planning.

We also wondered whether or not our perspectives on the whole situation were flawed to begin with. Because we enjoyed our time in a place didn’t necessarily mean that we should cast a shadow over our experiences in any other locations. I did this often in college with different social experiences (eating clubs, frats, clubs, etc.), and I found myself doing it here. Maybe the right decision was to stick with the original plan and move accordingly, but to truly appreciate and live each experience to its fullest- to find happiness and genuine fulfillment from every moment, as opposed to searching for other options that might make us happier. After all, those options always exist, don’t they?

Nonetheless, as we sat in the airport check-in lobby deciding whether or not we should miss our flight to Bangkok for more time in Hong Kong, we eventually marched our way over to customs, boarded the plane, and continued onto the next leg of our trip.

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neytinintransit · 7 years

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the o.g. six-two-six (tbc.)

“gonna be a short one because not n’uff time and nothing too profound happened”

- Me

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I have a confession. During my travels, I really did not have n’uff time to write out these long-winded rambles about the shit I was doing everyday. Instead of cooping myself up in some cafe or room for 2 hours a trip to cook up some moody soul-talk (taipeing in taipei amirite), I chose to stack up on experiences. Most these words you’re reading were spun from the tips of my fingers in sunny California, but I did write little footnotes to capture the important parts. I knew I wouldn’t be able to rely on my memory bank to accurately share my experiences- Eric and I killed of too many of our braincells for that type of work.

That quote up top is word-for-word all I had down for Taipei, and originally, that’s what this post was going to be about. Just some hyped-up, elongated Instagram post with not-so-clever captions. Four weeks out and looking back, I think I want to steer the post in a slightly different direction. Instead, I wanted to focus on this concept of brotherhood. I do have a brother that I care for and love very much, but this is for another type of brotha. That’s right, Eric, this one’s for you- think of it as some amped-up, bromantic version of the Adventures of Erthan Slohng. You know that thing where you start syncing up with someone if you spend too much time with them? Well that happened to us a lot, but I’ll save that for later.

After landing in Taiwan, I managed to use the remnants of my broken Chinese to get us to our Airbnb. Surprisingly, the place we booked in Taiwan ended up being the nicest place we stayed at throughout our entire trip. Skipping over the fact that I’m wearing a tank-top hoodie and wiping my sweat with my shirt, you’ll notice the wide, spacious bedroom we had. Not pictured but also a positive addition to the dopeness of the location was the living room, kitchen, and in-house washer-dryer.

Luckily, we landed with plans set to meet up with some friends that were working in Taipei for the summer. Before that, though, Eric and I decided to put a little rocking to the large bed we were blessed with. You guessed it: intense, hardcore ab workouts. After sharing my summer goals with Eric, he pulled out this little ab-workout app and set it to max-difficulty. That was probably the first and last time we worked out that entire trip, but I promise you I felt it in my core long enough to justify all the food we ate in the following weeks.

To negate the whole workout, we had our friends take us out to grab some bomb munchies at the night markets nearby. Luckily, the spot we booked out was in the Zhongshan district, which was pretty central and close to Taipei 101. In a few minutes, I was able to down a solid dinner and some more. Unfortunately, my phone was dying so I couldn’t take too many pictures, but my man Eric here was able to capture this little gem.

It’s a sausage wrapped in another sausage. Like a turducken, but sausage style. Of all things, leave it up to Eric to pick out something like this. No lie, that shit was dank. Looking at that monstrosity of a hotdog makes me crave one right now. Among other things, we had some good egg tart (蛋挞), stinky tofu (臭豆腐), and 驴肉饭 (sorry idk the english translation but it’s some braised pork over rice thing that I love). We then skipped on home and food coma’d shortly after.

Besides being a place where the number one attraction revolves around eating everything (in)edible, Taiwan is apparently also known for its sulfuric hot springs scattered throughout the mountains. As per recommendation of the (now) homie James Chen, Eric and I made a trip up to Xinbeitou (新北投), where a majority of the major communal hot springs are located. Even though we weren’t far into our trip, travel took a lot out of us, and some communal bathing in a 100°F tub of relaxation did not sound like something to pass up on (though I was reluctant to make a public display of the disaster of a belly I grew over the trip). Looking back, we probably could’ve used a hot spring treatment or two at all of our destinations.

As you can see from the not-so-inconspicuous bead of sweat on Eric’s forehead, these springs were hot. You can see the steam, and the place was littered with large, red “DO NOT FALL” signs. On top of that, the whole place smelled of sulfur, since sulfur is the source of the spring’s healing factors. Just in case you didn’t know, sulfur is also what makes your farts smell bad.

Since Xinbeitou is a spot where both tourists and locals go to bathe and relax, the whole area is modeled as a sort of exhibit about the history of hot springs and how they this and that and that and this and ye. Eric and I probably fall into the bucket of basic tourists that travel for the gram and don’t really dig deep into the culture of each place because we’re only there for a few days; but hey, at least we’re in that bucket together. And we do try, sometimes. After exploring whatever there was to explore, we set a goal to find a hot spring to hop into. Unfortunately, we managed to time our trip during some Taiwanese holiday, so most of the hot springs were closed. We walked past a few of the ones we read about that had good reviews, but those were the ones you had to go in with a birthday suit. Luckily, we stumbled across Millennium Hot Springs on the way back. Even though we prepared (for once!) and wore swim trunks, they still made us purchase speedos for the hot springs. It’s probably how they make all their money, since the entrance fee was pretty cheap. I was pretty reluctant at first, but we reasoned out the purchase as a little souvenir, which means that I now own a much-too-tight, way-too-small speedo that I hopefully won’t ever have a reason to wear again. Before we went in, Eric snapped this photo of me in the little dojo/museum/gallery section of the hot spring:

To be honest, I thought it was a pretty shitty photo, but Eric wouldn’t stop raving about how “badass I looked in my dojo,” so I’m putting it here in his honor. I got you broseff.

As expected, the majority of the population was made up of older, retired locals who probably came here to relax and pass time. And to our surprise, the community was very kind and trustworthy. When we went in, one of the old men told us that it was fine to leave all of our belongings in one of the open cubbies, and then encouraged us to hurry into the hot springs before we ran out of time. You’d expect a few naive tourists to be easy targets in a highly touristed spot with plenty of locals, and to be honest, I was extremely skeptical. But like the idiots we are, we left ALLLLLL our shit there. I mean, we still kept an eye on it while we were in the springs, but it was still all our shit. And when we got out, it was still there. The old man said he had been watching over it, and he was glad we were able to enjoy our time there.

Rewinding it back to the important part, sitting in that spring was really something else. You’d think that you’d feel just as nice if you cranked up the hot water in a bathtub and slipped in, but trust me- there’s something intangible about the sense of comfort and warmth you get from the hot springs. Man, if only I had my camera out to snap a few photos of Eric’s face when he was relaxing in the water. It’s a different level in relaxation. In fact, there were exactly three levels, increasing in temperature the further up you went. I think the top pool hit around 104°F, which apparently isn’t even that hot to the locals. You’re supposed to spend a little bit of time in the previous spring before moving up to get your body acclimated to the temperature, but I legit saw some people hop right in. They also had a cold pool for people who wanted to bring their body temperature back to a more stable state. Eric and I loved hopping between the hot and cold springs. It’s sort of like going between the jacuzzi and pool back in the day when we had those pool parties.

Part-way through our bath, it started raining. The contrast between the hot spring water and the cool rain also felt unreal. It was like taking that first bite into that perfect pizookie you ordered at BJs, fresh out of the oven. Anyway, both the rain and the fact that Millennium was closing was a clear sign for us to pack our bags (which were still there!!!) and leave.

If you know me well-enough, meaning somewhere in between the stranger and the best friend, you’ll know that I love large bodies of water. Even though it was raining, Eric and I decided to move from one pool to another, slightly bigger pool. We headed up to Tamsui, a coastal region of Taipei with a pretty massive boardwalk and a number of small shops and street vendors nearby. The whole place was mad cute, and the views were nice.

You can’t really see it, but the ocean was even more beautiful in the rain. There’s something about large bodies of water that place me in a sort of meditative state. And while I was off, deep in thought about whether or not I should trust the cuttlefish vendor selling fried snacks on the sidewalk, Eric was doing this:

Also, doesn’t he look kind of weird here:

Cuttlefish was a little sketch, but nonetheless, I purchased and devoured a generous amount only to regret it a few hours later. Since we had our fair share of snacking and exploration, we figured that the next logical move was obviously to hit up another night market and eat some more. And that’s exactly what we did.

We went to the Shihlin district, which supposedly housed one of the bigger night markets in Taipei. A few eventful things happened that night: Eric got another one of those sausage things, I had so many egg tarts that I lost count, and Eric tried his first durian that was way over-priced and totally not worth it. But it was still low-key worth it, since I got him to understand a bit more of what I grew up with. Here’s my pug-ass face biting into the $10 dolla piece of gold:

After eating our fill, our better judgment took us to this hotpot joint. The line was pretty long, but the food was mad cheap. It was like Boiling Point, but legit in all the ways Boiling Point wasn’t. If you can ignore Eric’s massive swol and focus on the pot, you’ll know what I mean:

And with that, we finally decided we were at our limit and headed home for the night. Here’s Eric regretting his decisions:

I’m not sure if I mentioned this, but when we were in Japan, I met Eric’s friends Lucy and Yi who also happened to be on a post-grad Asia trip. After leaving Japan, they were both signed up for this teaching program in Taiwan, and their stay in Taipei happened to overlap with ours. Surprisingly, one of my friends from home was also at the same program. One thing I’ve learned from traveling through the past few years is that circles do run incredibly small. There was even a time in Barcelona where I ran into a few high school friends in the middle of the beach. If you’ve ever been to a crowded beach in Barcelona during the summer, you’ll understand how crazy that is.

Anyway, Eric and I couldn’t really pass up on so many familiar faces, so we made sure to slot them into our plans. I forgot the name of the school, but the campus was pretty spacious and scenic. Lucy and Yi seemed happy, but my friend mentioned that she felt like a bit of a prisoner there. I was really worried for her, but I was glad to find out later that the rest of the program went pretty well. Partway through my conversation with her, one of her roommates urged us to climb up to the rooftop with her. And you know how I am with rooftops.

Needless to say, the view was breath-taking. After talking a bit more, we said our goodbyes and headed off on our way.

Taiwan summer-time heat is hot. Being the smart travelers we are, Eric and I completely disregarded this fact and decided to walk to the nearest subway stop even though it was over half an hour away. I remember moments I genuinely believed that we wouldn’t make it. It reminded me a bit of the time where Eric and I went on the “Bridge to Nowhere” hike in California. Shit was rough.

In case you were wondering, we did make it. And of course, what came next was a necessity for anybody who steps foot in Taipei: some BOMBASS 鼎泰丰 (Ding Tai Feng) from its hometown. For those of you who don’t know, Ding Tai Feng is a relatively famous restaurant that originated in Taiwan, and they’re known for soup dumplings:

We ordered about six or seven orders of the soup dumps and some beef noods soup before topping it all off with some milk tea from 春水堂, the O.G. creator of boba itself. Here’s a poorly shot photo of the well made drank:

In Taiwan, you’re not allowed to bring opened drinks or food onto public transportation. Since Eric and I clearly prioritized our boba above all else, we decided to do some quick shopping in the area before moving onto our next destination. Staying true to the theme of this post, I decided to purchase a Mickey shirt from Uniqlo to match Eric’s current outfit. All cringe and bromance aside, it was a good thing I purchased a second shirt. What came next was an hour-long, humid, summer-heated hike up Elephant mountain, and anyone who knows me knows how much I sweat.

Out of everything we did in Asia, hiking always felt incredibly rewarding. It was more than the panoramic view you got once you hit the top (which by no means was anything short of amazing). Even though it was definitely unsanitary, we played with a number of stray dogs that, like all dogs, seemed to long for human interaction (and food). We joked about how we’d probably end up as cicada food every time these invisible bugs filled the otherwise rigid silence of the forest with the sharp, deafening sounds of their hiss. And, when we had a moment to breathe, we spoke about how this would be the last time in a while that we’d be able to take a trip like this. We were living without obligation, free to go wherever and do whatever we wanted. Free-spirited. I think that’s what they call it.

For me, that feeling was so wonderfully liberating, and it is one that will always remain embedded in the person I am. Nowadays, whenever Eric and I catch up, the nine-to-five (or in my case, eleven-to-seven) life rarely ever carries any excitement, but we always light up when we talk about our next adventure. If I ever do pack up my bags and wander somewhere, you best bet Eric’s the first person I’m taking along with me.

After wrapping up our photoshoot at the peak, we made our way over to Taipei 101. There, we met up with Michelle Yeh for dinner before going out for the night. One thing I learned from traveling in college is that it’s crazy how international my classmates were. From Europe to Asia, I was pretty much always able to find a friend in the city I was in. I wonder if that statement still holds true, or if the bulk of them are, like me, off in SF/NYC working their shiny new office jobs.

After dinner, we met up with James and Co. for a night out. The rest of the night wasn’t too eventful- just kind of weird. Somehow, Eric knew a promoter that was able to get us into Omni, one of the most popular clubs in Taipei which apparently doubled as a church on Sundays. Yep- after a Saturday night of drinking and dancing, the club kicks everyone out, cleans up, and opens the doors for Jesus. It was probably a combination of crab girl (lol), the crowd we were with, and that particular night we were out, but Omni was mad OK. It was our last night in Taiwan, though, so we tried to make the best of it and stayed out until the club was practically empty.

There were many things Eric and I overlooked when planning this trip. One of these many things included the discrepancy between checkout and flight times. For Taiwan, we were intelligent enough to book an Airbnb with an early checkout time and a flight that departed at night. That left a full day of crawling and walking around the city with our fifty-pound bags.

Welcome to suitcase hell*. If you look closely at our faces, you can tell that we’re absolutely ravaged. I don’t know if I made it clear before, but summer in Taiwan (and most of Asia) is hot. Add about half your body weight, a list of errands that took us all over Taipei, and a predisposition to sweating profusely, and you’ve got yourself a pretty rough day.

The first leg of our trial had us trek back up to the international school. Long story short, I had to drop off a sim card for Brenda before leaving because she felt a bit trapped and had no consistent way of contacting the outside world. Next, we had to trip down to the southern of Taipei to return this metrocard that I borrowed from James. Now that I’m writing all this out, I guess a good number of these errands were because of me. Whoops.

Though painful, we did have some pretty interesting experiences while running around city. On the way up to Brenda, we somehow ended up in this abandoned underground mall. In these wide-open basements, there were several dance teams rehearsing and training- it looked like a scene out of some movie. I feel like if I ever lived in Taiwan, I would definitely find some way to get involved in this scene. After making all that distance with weight on our backs, we were starving. Luckily, we stumbled upon the most famous 卤肉饭 joint in the city and ended up eating three large bowls each. Finally, we accidentally stumbled upon this gem right here:

You know that thing about how you start syncing up with someone if you’re around them too often? Well if you hadn’t already noticed, Eric and I are once again matching, but this time it was unintentional. We definitely experienced turbulence, but the trip would not have been nearly as fun and fulfilling without him (and all the stupid shit we laughed at). The memories I have from this trip will probably be some of the happiest of my life, and I’m glad I was able to share it with him.

(tbt to high school).

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few months of “adulthood,” it’s that making and maintaining close relationships becomes much more difficult as you age. Even though we’re living pretty different lives in different cities across the country, I’m still able consider Eric as one of my closest friends, and I’m grateful for that.

* We later discovered that the host would have been fine with us leaving our bags at the place, but we were already in too deep to turn back.

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neytinintransit · 7 years

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seoul talk (ed. 1)

Or more like seoul searching, but I guess some good soul talk is a solid first step. To me, Seoul was a city of relationships. And when I say that, I’m not restricting the term to romance (although it definitely makes up a large pice of the pie). There was not a single day where Eric and I hadn’t found ourselves surrounded by both new and familiar faces. Part of the reason for our newfound popularity stood in the fact that most of the people I knew in Asia just happened to be in Seoul. But what made the experience special was that everyone would always bring one or two of their own friends to tag along, and naturally, that helped our humble little two-man team evolve into a squad (underwater squaw wus good). Everyday, we formed new relationships and strengthened existing ones.

Being in Seoul really helped me appreciate all of the friends I found myself lucky enough to be surrounded by. After traveling for a while, the concept of homesickness doesn’t feel as foreign as it should, and you begin to long for some sort of anchor that can root you in stability. I think most people have this problem, but I never felt that in Seoul. I think that I can always find myself missing some parts of the warmth and friendship that I found there.

Staying true to the theme of this post, Eric and I immediately made our way over to meet with Michelle minutes after we got to our Airbnb. Originally, we had planned to get some Korean fried chicken with her in Hongdae, but this little devil kept escalating things. Eric and I were experiencing some serious alcohol trauma (hangovers) from the previous night and had no intention whatsoever of ingesting anymore of that toxic waste. In fact, we literally made a pact before meeting up with Michelle that we were going to take it easy tonight, but it was Michelle’s last night in Seoul and I guess she wanted to rally before the big send-off. We ordered one or two bottles of soju, and after we finished the modest amount of alcohol and the not-so-modest amount of chicken, she convinced us to go to a bar and grab one or two drinks. Something I learned while abroad: never trust those friends that take you to the bar for “one or two” drinks.

We ended up at this bar called Thursday Party, which was the typical go-to pregame spot for most internationals. To be fair, we had some pretty good conversation and catch up. We also dipped our feet in that stranger danger zone and had a couple memorable interactions with some people around us (i.e. some drunk girl who was alone and kept asking for alcohol, beer pong with some Canadians, Michelle’s unwanted wing-manning). From there, everything became a blur. I love poisoning myself, destroying my liver, and making embarrassingly bad decisions.

To be honest, I don’t even remember going to McDonalds. I only know we went because I’ve got hard-photo evidence of this happening. Despite the memory loss and continuation of my never-ending hangover, being around Michelle was especially refreshing, and I think that was one of the best ways I could’ve started my stay at Seoul. It was nice remembering what it felt like to appreciate another human being as much as they appreciated you. It’s been a while since I’ve genuinely had that in my life, and I think it’s an important part of finding a sense of belonging. On an slightly unrelated, light-hearted side-note, Michelle also got us started off on our seven-day bender.

Beyond my conscious knowledge, we woke up with plans to grab bing-su with Michelle. Bing-su is basically Korean shaved snow, and that good-good looked a bit like this:

When we got to the joint, I was greeted by my arch-nemesis Stephanie, Michelle’s younger sister. According to Michelle, her sister goes on auto-hate mode for any “new guy” in her life. I don’t think there’s a single time where I haven’t seen her glaring at me. It’s okay though, because deep down, I feel like Steph actually enjoys my company even though she’s take jabs at me every little chance she gets. Because in between each insult, we manage to sneak in a nice little conversation about something going on in our lives. Well, regardless of whether or not she likes me, I think she’s cool and that’s all that matters. Plus we’re facebook friends, so it’s official

After bidding our frowns and farewells to Michelle as her bus drove off into the distance, we made our way over to Gyeongbokgung, the royal palace of South Korea. Stephanie must’ve really wanted company, because she decided to stick around us for the rest of the day. The humidity was brutal, and so were my sweat glands. For the duration of our bus ride, Steph wouldn’t stop pining about how I was basically a fountain and needed some portable fans so I wouldn’t drip everywhere. I don’t blame her.

We actually made plans to meet up with John Suh that day. Apparently, he was on some short vacation from his military vacation and had some time to spare before going back to base, so he joined us on our little expedition. Back when he was at Princeton, we never really spoke much. Even though we went to Beijing together freshman summer, I could only count a handful of memories with him. After spending so much time with him this summer, I could safely say that that’s probably one of my biggest regrets. We actually get along really well, and it’s really nice to have a friend who likes the same style of dance as you (~Cali urban vibes~). On the east coast, there weren’t that many people who were into the styles of dance that I was, so it was a bit isolating in that respect.

John’s the sharp-looking military boy to the right. Oh yeah, about my outfit. There are several vendors around the area that rent out Hanboks (traditional Korean Garb) for about thirty bucks USD. Somehow, Eric talked me into the whole immersive experience, so we hiked over the closest store and got all suited up. Somehow, Eric talked me into doing a lot of crazy things, but thankfully this was one was one of the better decisions that we made.

Above, we have the King and the Prince. I let Eric take over with the king outfit this time since he’s the one that’s actually Korean- plus it gave me plenty of leeway for those daddy jokes that made the man plenty uncomfortable. Half the time, I couldn’t stop laughing in disbelief at the fact that we actually went out of our way to put these clothes on. As silly as I felt, I’m glad we did it. We had a taste of what it felt like to be old school Korean gangstas, and people treated us like mini celebrities. There were at least three or four occasions where strangers came up to us asking for a photo. The best part was when they came up to me speaking Korean and I had to give them that blank, shameless stare, exposing myself as a poser. About an hour and two ankle blisters later, John’s vacation time was up and Eric and I had to go return our new superhero outfits. We went scavenging for food after our failed attempt to enter the museum of modern art (since it was closed). After a short meal, we dropped Stephanie off at her bus stop and Eric and I headed home to rest and wash up. Waking up hungover and walking all day long in hot, stuffy clothing was a sure-fire way of feeding the burnout.

Oh, I almost forgot. Friday, June 30 was a very special day, because it was Michelle Jeong’s birthday! By the way, this is a different Michelle than the one mentioned above, so to alleviate the confusion, I’ll refer to her as Meesh. Meesh and I were friends way back in high school (fun fact: we actually went to Sadies together). We shared the same nightmarish internship one summer in high school, and hadn’t spoke much until we reunited in London during our junior year of study abroad. She was the closest friend I had while I was in London, and I can’t imagine what the semester would’ve been like without her support. I really wouldn’t want to, growing closer to her in London was easily the best thing that happened to me during those few months. It’s funny to look back into your past and discover all these disjoint narratives that somehow found themselves mingling and me(e)shing together. Meesh’s family moved back to Seoul after both siblings graduated college, so I haven’t seen her back on the west coast in a while.

After Eric and I washed all the humid grime off our bodies and put on some fancy clothes, we headed over to this bar in Itaewon for Meesh’s birthday party. Itaewon is the most international neighborhood of Seoul. If you’re an expat and you can’t speak Korean, Itaewon’s probably the place you’d be living. It’s also a pretty fun place to go out. When we got there, I was surprised to run into John Shin, my best friend’s boyfriend. Unfortunately he was just waiting for us to come so he could say hi, but he had to leave soon after. At the bar, I met a number of Meesh’s close friends from Cornell. Meesh would always tell me so many stories about her friends back at school, so it was really interesting to finally meet them all in person. I was also shocked at how many of them were in Korea at that time.

A good number of drinks and a happy birthday song later, we walked across the street to this place called Club Made. Originally, Meesh really didn’t want to go clubbing, but her friends sort of coerced her into it. That night as an oddball, because I was the one who had to take care of Eric. After he puked on my arm (which is totally OK because I put him through much more stress throughout the trip), I decided it was about time to head home. We left the club at around 3AM, and after we realized that it was impossible to call a cab at that hour, we decided to go back and stay in the club until 5AM when the subway opened up again.

And so we did it. Eric and I stumbled back into Club Made, stole a handle of Absolut from an abandoned table, met some new friends (who go to NYU and USC!!!), and continued partying until the sunrise. After the club closed, we headed back to the Airbnb. Or at least I thought we were, but my trip back home was a little more complicated. I was half awake when Eric woke me up, but in that situation we definitely round down. Apparently after I stood up, Eric assumed that I followed him out of the train and onto the platform. But I didn’t. In my half-awake, drunken stupor, I sat back down in my seat and fell asleep for a good five to six stops away. I woke up in a panic and realized Eric had texted me the address and key code to get back into the apartment earlier that day. Unfortunately, my battery was at around 2% and I knew that if I wasn’t able to memorize that information before my phone died, I’d probably die along with it.

Luckily, four years of cramming BS in college did me well, and I was able to get the information down right before it powered off. Cab drivers in Korea don’t really speak English, so I was lucky that I found one that was able to understand whatever the hell I was telling him. After I charged my phone and reunited with a very relieved Eric, I found this gem in my messages:

I laughed, but he was pissed.

After a long nap, Eric took me to this little slice of paradise called Hangang Park. In retrospect, strolling along the river was probably one of happiest, most peaceful memories of the entire Asia trip. We purchased some kimbap on the way there and scoped out the area for a nice, shady spot to relax. Summers are especially humid, so naturally the bulk of the crowd congregated underneath a massive bridge that overlooked the river. People had tents and blankets sprawled out along the lawn, and there were a group of people singing and performing for the crowd. They had some of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard in my life. Part of me wishes I went up to them and asked them if they wanted the photo, because they seemed so genuinely happy in that moment. Eric and I sat there for a while, enjoying the music and food while observing a few people perform these crazy tricks on bicycles.

I also managed to snap a photo that I thought captured a “nice guy” moment for Eric. Basically, there are a number of old Korean women scattered throughout the park that are paid(?) to pass out fliers and sell snacks. They probably don’t have much money and need to work these jobs to make it to the next week, because conditions are grueling. It’s unbelievably humid out, and most people just brush them aside or ignore them. I guess Eric felt bad, because he got up out of nowhere and bought some food that we didn’t even eat. I promise this was one of those actually-candid photos. It’d be kind of fucked up if it wasn’t.

After we soaked up enough of the peace and zen around us, we decided to go on a little stroll along the river. I don’t know if this sounds pretentious, but the large public pool-fountain construct reminded me a lot of Plaça de Catalunya in Barcelona. The surroundings were just so full of life- splashes, youthful laughter, tiny plodded footsteps could be heard from all directions. I know this is probably a misguided judgement, but I found it difficult to imagine an unhappy childhood growing up somewhere with this in the backyard. I think there’ve been less than a handful of memories where I felt that genuinely content and at awe with the world I live in, and this was one of them.

Unfortunately, our time at Hangang park came to an end. We met up with Eric’s uncle on his dad’s side of the family and a few of his other relatives for ayce (all you can eat) shabu shabu. After meeting his dad’s side and hearing about his mom’s side, I could really see both parts of their personalities in him. It was really interesting to piece the different puzzle pieces together- I wonder what people think about me when they meet my parents. Anyway, we had a long, hearty dinner and I enjoyed spending time with them. Eric seemed really happy to be able to see them, since he grew up with most of them and they moved to Korea about half a year ago.

By the time dinner finished, it was pretty far into the evening. Guess what that means. That’s right. More alcohol. We hurried home to put on a pair of pants, since that’s what we considered “nicer” clothing, and made our way out to our first night in Gangnam. We made plans to meet up with Sally Hahn, one of my friends from Princeton. Meesh was supposed to join in, but she bailed toward the end because she didn’t want to go out two nights in a row. What a party pooper. Well, she’s actually pretty fun to party with, but I’m just bitter because her company would’ve been greatly appreciated.

Having Sally around was still great, though. If I’m ever back in Seoul while she’s there, I’m definitely going to hit her up because she took good care of Eric and me. First, we went to this Korean bar-restaurant thing. I forgot the name for it, but typical Korean bars are food joints that sell alcohol. The alcohol’s relatively cheap, but the gig is that you need to purchase some food in order to purchase the alcohol. That’s where the bars make the money, but I guess it all evens out in the end. Plus that food was mad dank (Erthan Slohng lingo). We went out to this club called Octagon, which is one of the highest rated clubs in the world. It was pretty expensive- I think that night hurt my wallet the most. I guess you get what you pay for, though, because we had a ton of fun. Some guy wearing an Anonymous mask started a cypher, and you best believe I found myself at home there. Actually, who am I kidding. The only time I’m brave enough to freestyle is when I’m well-enough inebriated to the point where there’s no way my freestyle looks any good. Some tragic happenings occurred that night as well, but for the sake of everyone’s reputation, I’ll leave that a mystery for you to never figure out.

Keeping up with the pattern, we woke up with our lovely splitting headaches and aching bodies. Eric had plans to meet up with his mother’s side, but I had promised Meesh we would spend some more time together before I left for the next destination. And thus, Eric and I temporarily parted ways for the first time (while sober, and with a clear sense of direction).

Lovely, lovely Meesh brought me to this beautiful man-made river called Cheonggyecheon. Apparently, it used to be a massive sewage dump that polluted the streets with a rotting stench. Sort of like the smell you’d catch a whiff of walking by my college dorm. One of the Presidents realized how much public spaces affected the livelihood of its inhabitants (duh), and spent tons of money reforming it into what it is today. Sometimes, I wish cities in America would make better use of their public spaces. Even in NYC, everything has a bit of a rustic, rundown vibe to it (unless we’re talking big corporate buildings).

Meesh and I actuallly ran into a little Muay Thai tournament that was taking place near Cheonggyecheon. It brought back plenty of memories (and trauma), since Meesh was there when I started taking on Muay Thai seriously and competing in London. I made the mistake of purchasing some spicy pad thai, and found myself sweating a good amount more than I should have a few minutes into our walk. After melting a trail of sadness for a good fifteen minutes, we found a restaurant that served pigs feet. It sounds weird, but I grew up on that stuff and I can promise you that it’s something you definitely don’t want to knock until you try. We ate our fill as we caught each other up on our lives. It’s crazy how much can change in such a short time period. It’s only been a few weeks since, but I bet if I met up with Meesh for another dope, scrumptious pig’s feet feast, I’d have just as many new things to tell her.

Eric was planning on meeting us later in the day, so Meesh took me around some nice spots to kill time. I can’t remember the name of the place (mainly because so much of my brain-space was hellbent on remembering the names of locations near my Airbnb so that if I got lost again, I wouldn’t be scared of getting lost and dying), but there were all these cute little shops and boutiques littered across these stone-brick streets. If Meesh and I were dating, that would have been one of the most ideal date locations, and that’s me talking by LA standards. I thought my hometown was a place that shipped out romantics, but I guess there’s a reason why every other person’s holding hands with someone on the streets. There was this one shopping complex (The one pictured above. Look at Meesh btw, isn’t she adorable.) with shops spiraling up to the top. At the top was this little “love lock” things where couples could go and attach locks with their names written on them to a fence. Y’know, one of those things. It’s actually pictured in my profile photo for the blog if you still don’t know what I’m talking about. And if you’re still confused, go peep my travel album on Facebook (shameless plug).

After Eric arrived, we got some shaved ice and went shopping for souvenirs. Well, more like we walked into a shop that happened to sell souvenirs- we were really there for the AC, because all three of us were literally melting through our pores. I was feeling especially tired toward the end of our time with Meesh, so I mainly stood in the background and let Eric and Meesh interact with each other. I felt so exhausted from the consecutive disasters that happened the two nights before that I couldn’t muster the energy to maintain conversation with these people, even though they were both people very near and dear to my heart.

As usual, we said our goodbyes to Meesh and moved onto our next destination. I thought it would be a crime to call myself a dancer, come to Seoul, and not take dance class. So to prevent myself from committing any crimes against humanity, I dragged Eric to his first dance class at 1Million with me. We went to a random dance class, hoping we would learn some dope choreography, but instead we took Jay Kim’s class (sorry for the hate, but I just couldn’t dig it). I still had a ton of fun dancing, though. Becoming a part of the dance community was one of the most dynamic changes to my senior year at Princeton, but I can easily say that dancing has made me a much happier person at the core. We met some guy (sorry I can’t remember your name!) from Vegas who was also traveling Asia post-grad, and grabbed dinner with him after class.

When we were released from Jay Kim’s cornyography (get it? corny choreography = cornyography) dance-den, we were lucky and fortunate enough to enter a long, seemingly perpetual spree of torrential downpour. What made the situation even better was that the only person who had an umbrella was Eric. After waiting a good fifteen minutes, we gave up on the world and admitted defeat to the crazies that were doing the rain dance in some basement to ruin our lives. The station was about a ten-minute walk away, but somehow with all the rain, it turned out to be a fifteen-minute sprint away. Even though we all were soaked head to toe, even though I nearly slipped and cracked my head open a few times, even though that day is probably the reason why my shoes smell like shit today, I don’t think I would have chosen to not run in the rain that night even if I had a massive, protective hamster ball that would’ve protected me from any moisture from above. I don’t know if you’ve ever done it, but going out into a blanket of thundering rain with no protection is probably one of the most exhilarating corners of life. Running through it is even better. I guess I still don’t really know what it means to be alive after 22 years in this body, but I felt so incredibly alive that night.

That long day was unfortunately the preface to a long night. Eric and I had mountains of laundry because we did a great job of overpacking, and we had to do laundry before leaving for Taipei the next day. And so as all bro-y Californian dudes do while they wait for laundry, Eric and I drank a bottle of makgeolli (Korean rice wine) and put on face masks.

The stuff of nightmares, am I right. You’ll also notice that there’s clothes hanging from the curtains in the background. That’s what made that night long. Almost everything that could have possibly gone wrong (and right) happened during our stay in Seoul, and the night before we took off, the owner came up to us with a bag of heavy, soggy, washed clothing and told us that the storm broke the drier. Under pressure, we jerry-rigged a little hang-dry system out of everything we could possibly hang clothes off of and prayed that everything would be dry in the morning. I can’t really remember if the clothes were ok in the morning, but I do remember going to Taipei. Things always sort themselves out somehow. Or you die. But usually you don’t die.

Throughout the entirety of our stay in Seoul, we had flurry of hello’s and goodbye’s to both old and new faces. I’ve always felt that part of growing up is about learning how to develop your relationships with people around you. And now, I think I’m finally beginning to understand the exact weight of those words. Developing these relationships isn’t just a one-track process of fortification. It’s a dynamic process in which we create relationships anew, build them into friendships, and loosen some old ties to make room for the new. Sometimes, the old ties tighten up again, but sometimes they don’t. And that’s totally OK.

I think that I’ve always understood the last part, subconsciously. But to truly grasp it and accept it is something I need to learn, and something that I am still learning. It’s scary to know that something that was once so special might not be at some point in the future. But it’s also exciting to know that something that might have been a small encounter- be it someone you met at dance, someone you said hi to on a bus, or someone who was your Airbnb host- could develop into an invaluable, lifelong friendship. Of course, it is just as much a possibility that the loosening will never happen- that those relationships and friendships will last your entire life. But consciously knowing that they might not, and accepting that they will not if the situation were to arise– that’s the hard part. I guess this is a long, drawn out of learning that life moves on, and that’s I’ll eventually find some way to be content irregardless of whatever direction it may move in.

Sorry for the long post, but I guess it just means that I was really living throughout this entire experience, collecting stories here and there to add to my little trove of memories. I always know I have an overall positive experience when I have plenty of stories to tell, even if those experiences are negative ones. Because it’s our narratives and the way we tell them which give our lives life. A few years ago during the summer, JD and I saw a quote scribbled on the back of Vesper Bar in Amsterdam that read: “Summer is the time when you drink triple, see double, and act single.” I’m glad the 22 year-old me was able to learn and apply something I learned in my college years.

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Taipei bound here we come wooowooo aww yea put that street food in my belly unf.

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neytinintransit · 7 years

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shit i did in kyoto/osaka (fin.)

There’s not enough time to write about that stuff here, so here’s a few pictures you can look at. Osaka was basically Vegas in Japan, and Kyoto was some sort of trip to the spirit world in a Studio Ghibli film.

Osaka at night

Eric in Osaka at night

Some rocks we found on the way to the monkeys

A dam near the monkeys

The monkeys

Some children’s toys that were pretty. They were also near the monkeys

Deer at Nara

My new friend

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P.S. Tsujiki Fish Market was Tokyo, but I forgot about that so it didn’t make the main cut. You can see stuff here.

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neytinintransit · 7 years

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one summer’s day (ed. 1)

Every morning, my mother goes down to her old crystal shop at the front of our house and burns several spears of incense as she prays. And every morning, my mother prays for Ryan and me. In fact, she is so religiously dedicated to this ritual that my high school friends always associated me with the smell of incense before I grew smart enough to invest in some strongly-scented body soap. When she prays, she demands complete privacy and silence (a request which my brother and I may not treat with much respect), for fear that part of her spirit may be trapped in another world if interrupted mid-process. Eric discovered this contraption pictured above at the beginning of our visit and, being the free spirit he is, didn’t hesitate to set it in motion. Oddly enough, even though I just hopped on a plane and flew an ocean away from home, the scent makes this foreign environment seem mildly familiar. I was talking to Joy about this, but I think I’ve traveled enough to out-grow my fear of foreign lands.

Another thing I’ve learned from past travels is that I quickly grow tired of aimless wandering when there isn’t any form of personal growth involved. Last Spring, I remember wandering around Rome and feeling at a loss for why I was there and not home. Why wasn’t I at KO Gym working the bags with Coach? Why wasn’t I cooking up some fancy, fulfilling side-project? Why the hell was I spending so much time at these random spots in the world, walking my feet sore to the bone? There was no purpose or direction. After all, that’s what aimless wandering is. And on the plane/train ride here, I decided that wasn’t what I wanted. Not ever again- or at least I hope.

So as I mentioned in the blog post below, I’ve decided to set a number of goals. They’re not necessarily huge, monumentous goals. Just little things I’d like to be able to tick off here and there. The list is growing/shrinking as I skip around the continent, so there isn’t very strong commitment to them either. But they’re there, and I’m hoping for them to move me forward.

But before we get to the abstract stuff, let’s do a quick-dirty rundown of Tokyo. I’m not quite as shocked anymore when this happens, but once again my worlds have collided. Pictured left is Raheem of Princeton, the nobel ram that everyone adores. On the right is Eric of Troy, the pupperino that’s accompanying me for the duration trip. We all met up in Ginza, the classy, high-fashion upper-class neighborhood of Tokyo. We didn’t spend too much time there, but I was able to go through this stationary shop called G.Itoya and hunt for little gifts. I mentioned below that one of my goals was to find souvenirs from different parts my travels for a select few people. Some of them told me that I didn’t have to, and if you’re reading this, I promise took your advice to heart. I will not mindlessly purchase meaningless artifacts, but if I do see something that I know will make said persons happy, you can bet I’m taking that gold back to homebase.

After scrambling around for a restaurant that had vegetarian (Raheem is vegetarian) options, we made a trip over to the Tokyo Tower. On the way there, we happened to pass through a number of Japanese gardens, landscapes lush with greenery, unlike the gardens back home sprinkled with a variety of colorful flowers.

Pit stop no. 1 is that red-white Eiffel Tower looking thing. As expected, there’s an elevator that takes you to the top and provides a 360 degree view of Tokyo. To be honest, it wasn’t the most awe-inspiring activity, though it was a good introduction to the city.

After marching around the tower and shopping at the random souvenir shops throughout several floors, we made way to meet Eric’s college friends, Yi and Lucy. They’re traveling together like Eric and me, and their personalities click pretty well. Yi has one of the most dynamic personalities I’ve met, with as much energy as Dory from Finding Nemo. Lucy is much more calm and relaxed, but feels very genuine and down to earth from our conversations.

The five of us mapped out a 20 minute walk to Harajuku, the stylish art and fashion district of Tokyo. With a steady combination of terrible navigation skills and California-style walking, twenty minutes became a solid hour and a half. There were no regrets from walking on my end, however. To me, that just meant we had an extra hour and ten minutes of conversation and exploration (e.g. a puppy shop, Shake Shack, more gardens, getting to know friends, old and new.

And at the end of our journey, we were blessed with this little gem in the sky. Sunsets at the beach are wonderful, but they don’t quite capture that magic that these sunsets do— the way the autumn-shaded sunlight collides with the clouds to create the purple and orange and yellow and red.

When we weren’t staring at the sky, we were browsing through some pretty cool (and cheap) shops. I really liked this place. It reminded me a bit of 南锣鼓巷 in Beijing, except it was a bit more stylish with a larger variety. Almost like a hybrid of that and Brick Lane in London, I guess. It’s funny how you start comparing places in different countries to one another after you’ve traveled enough. Almost like how you start to describe new friends in relation to old ones you’ve made after you’ve run out of room in your mind to store completely new identities.

On the note of old friends, we met up with Hiro and got Izakaya later that night. Izakaya usually consists of bar foods and beer/sake, and it was a great way for us to talk about the parts of life that passed when we were apart. She really is one of the kindest, warmest, most considerate souls that I’ve ever met. And I feel like part of me always misses her company. I guess that’s when you know you’ve found yourself a good friend.

Since we’re coming closer and closer to that metaphysical, abstract level of thought, we can just go there. On this trip, I want to be able to glean little life lessons and pockets of wisdom as I march forward. To be able to reflect, understand, and meditate on certain thoughts and philosophies that I’ve developed and changed through the years. It’s a process called adulting, and it’s happening. I have to accept that, and I have to embrace it with complete willingness, otherwise it will out-run me.

Pictured above is an Ema. Quoted directly from Wikipedia, “Ema are small wooden plaques on which Shinto worshippers write their prayers or wishes. The ema are then left hanging up at the shrine, where the kami (spirits or gods) are believed to receive them.” One of my favorite parts of my trip through Tokyo was finding little shrines scattered throughout the city that contained stopping points that collected the wishes and hopes of its inhabitants. On the flip side of every lotus flower was a wish that someone in this world felt was important enough to share with the world.

I’m not one to believe in fate, but I do know that certain things catch my eye for a reason. And when this note appeared in my field of view, I felt myself immediately attracted to it. For some reason, this phrase elicited a sense of nostalgia- both the pain of loss and the hope for a happier future. After reading it, I began to contemplate why people feel, so strongly, this urge to love. Why is it that people believe that the capacity to care for something other than you is greater than any form of care you’ll ever have?

Within the past few years, I’ll admit that I’ve done things I’m not proud of (Teemo reference ‘sup). With each of those actions, I started to like myself less and less. I saw flaws in my behavior and how they existed in complete contradiction to what I believed were my values. Self-love is hard to maintain, and if you’re not careful, it eventually withers away. But what I think I’m starting to realize is that love and care for others is what anchors me down. I’m not sure why, but when I love so strongly— be it my family, a significant other, a city— it draws out behaviors and actions that I find admirable. It makes me a better person, and a person that I think I could possibly love.

And I think that is why An is searching for love again. I know the whole preach of independence is important, but for some reason, it’s awfully hard for me to love myself if I can’t find that same love and care for anyone else.

Everyday, thousands of people travel to shrines to pray for their loved ones. For those that have both passed and are living, they pray for the well-being of their souls. These shrines connect people to loved ones, beyond the flesh and bone with which we were born with. While walking around, I noticed several people fresh from work, coming to pay their respects and leave their wishes.

Next to the shrine, piles of burnt incense serve as a monument to these prayers. Growing up, I’ve always found it interesting that incense was chosen to be the tool of choice to pray to the Gods. Growing up, I’ve also found it interesting the way my mom and dad seemed to sacrifice so much for my brother and me.

Growing up, I had all these dreams of success, of wild, wild success. I’ve had dreams of becoming the president of the United States, of becoming the CEO of the next big startup. I’ve thought of all these things, and I still do. Without a doubt, I believe that my mom and dad thought of these things throughout their lives as well. I believe they still do.

And yet, I’ve always found it so interesting how they were able to make all these sacrifices for my brother and me. Why do my mother and father work their entire lives for our sake? Mom doesn’t care about real-estate, and Dad sure doesn’t give a shit about construction. So why would they dedicate the day-in-day-out to us?

Every morning, my mother goes down to her old crystal shop at the front of our house and burns several spears of incense as she prays. Every morning, my mother prays for Ryan and me. And I’m beginning to understand why I would do the same for another, and why I’m not completely crazy for doing so. I’m not saying that it’s the right path, by any means, but I can understand it now. Because when you’ve found something you like, very very much, what you want doesn’t seem so important anymore. You find joy and love in theirs.

On a final note, I can’t think of another picture that I resonate with more right now. I don’t know why I always do this to myself, but it’s currently 4:30AM and I’m ready to konk the $#@% out.

Goodnight world.

—

TL:DR I get why people have kids now.

Adulting pt. 1 checked.

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