Unexpected Gains from Backpacking: Friendship, humility, and discipline

A couple of weeks ago I graduated college, and without much hesitation, hopped on a plane for Europe!  That's right, I'm doing the cliche "backpacking" thing, and it has been the best experience of my life thus far.  If you want an update about where I've been so far, check out my Europe Pic-a-Day Album on Facebook.

Through the recommendation of just about anyone that I talked to, I am keeping a private journal of my experience - it is the primary and undoubtedly most important souvenir of my trip.  Taking the time to write each day has allowed me to remember, reminisce, and reflect on the backpacking experience on a level unlike anything else.  From this,  I have realized that journaling is very different writing practice from blogging publicly, and that the information you share outwardly, though of course it is a reflection of your internal experiences, really cannot do the soul justice.

That is why being a travel blogger would be so difficult.  When you travel, you experience so many incredible things - sights, foods, and friendships - but it is nearly impossible to communicate exactly what those mean to you.  I actually met a professional travel blogger in Rome and it was interesting to hear about both the struggles and benefits of his work. The real kicker came the night that he had to turn down a token Roman toga party in favor of working on his writing.  That, my friends, takes a lot of discipline.

But when you get down to it, traveling is all about discipline.  When people think of a "backpacker", they think of a completely free spirit with no direction in the world - someone who is just bouncing around from place to place with no real purpose or boundary.  And- OK- I have come across a few of those... but I have actually found that many backpackers I have met along this journey are actually great examples of discipline and self-control.

How so?

Well, we can start with money because that somehow affects just about everything else.  Backpackers are frugal people!  We may be spending thousands of dollars on our trip, but we want the most bang for our buck... plus most of us are fighting a disadvantageous exchange rate.  The more frugal and disciplined you are with your money, the more you can stretch the experiences of your trip.  personally, I have practiced frugality with money by booking cheaper rooms in hostels (8 bed dorm rooms, anyone?), buying fresh groceries from local markets and preparing meals or picnicking instead of eating out, and by doing my laundry by hand in the bathroom sink.   While actions like these allowed me to ultimately save money on my trip, it was the unexpected fringe benefits of these actions that have truly left an impact. Staying in hostels and sharing communal space has led to friendships; preparing dinner with those new friends has led to a more authentic experience of the land we are visiting; and doing laundry by hand, well in today's world of privilege and technology, that's humility.

But being disciplined is not just about what you can't (or choose not to) do. Being disciplined also shines through in reflecting upon one's own values and expectations for oneself.  When you travel and engage in the backpacking community, you are going to meet, talk to, and learn from people who come from all walks of life and from all corners of the world.  This experience is invaluable, and when coupled with strength in one's own values and disciplines, the experience of meeting all kinds of new people can be one of the most rewarding parts of travelling.

The best friendships are the ones that you can learn from, the ones that challenge you. These are the friendships that I am building on this adventure.


So I know I have written a bit now, and it probably just sounds like random ramblings.... But you can't say I didn't warn you. It is completely impossible for me to sum up the backpacking experience in any sort of eloquent or organized way. What this period in my life is teaching me... To put it into words would be an injustice.

As much as I would like to continue to tell you about what I am learning from my adventure, I would rather spend my energy encouraging you to go after your own adventure! Seriously, if you have ever thought about travelling, whether it is across a couple of states or across the world, you HAVE to do it! I will help you plan :) you will gain everything that you expected plus much, much more.

Paris Prose - The second lost generation.

The 1920’s had F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein, and Ernest Hemingway. 

The 2020’s will have ... well, maybe all of us.

There is little that young 

Americans love more than fleeing to Paris. In moments of 

desperation, in moments of celebration, or in moments of not 

knowing what else to do... 

Paris is always there.

The term “lost generation” originally described the generation in 

America that came to age during 

the first World War. Confused, 

hurt, and aimless, many of them 

pursued Paris. And while much 

has changed in the last 90 years 

since the original lost generation, 

the sentiment of today’s youth has 

remained much the same. In our 

coming of age, we just don’t know 

what to do with our new-found 

freedom in one of the freest societies in the world. 

It was the year 1964 when Ernest 

Hemingway published his memoirs from Paris in the 1920’s. He 

boldly named Paris “a moveable 

feast” - a resonating definition for 

young Americans of all generations. The point that Hemingway 

set out to make was that Paris, 

although temporary for many, 

is a permeating and transferable 

mindset - an idulgent way to perceive, think, and feel. 

In a land of abundance where 

technology and progress is championed and never challenged, it is 

easy to become exhausted. And 

while technological innovation 

and its resulting cultural changes 

are sweeping the globe with few 

exceptions, there is still solace to 

be found in Paris. 

Something about gargoyles and 

baguettes lights a certain dimming passion within us. 

Wandering aimlessly in the most romantic city in the world is an 

unforgettable memory for many. 

While the typical agenda for Paris 

may include strolling l’avenue des 

Champs-Élysées, climbing the 

stairs of la Tour Eiffel, and viewing the Mona Lisa dans le Louvre, 

those memories are trapped within the bubble of Paris. The best 

moments in Paris are the ones that 

you can take with you. 

The most lasting impressions 

from Paris are often discovered 

in becoming lost. In wandering aimlessly around the 7th arrondissement along the Seine, 

in stumbling into old bookshops 

or family-ran boutiques, and by 

biting into the crunchy shell of a 

maccaroon from a corner pâtisserie. When lost in Paris, fully immersed in Paris with no thoughts 

of anything else, you aquire a 

frame of mind that remains with 

you forever. One of peace, observance, and stimulation. 

The first lost generation was onto 

something when they temporarily left their American homes for 

Paris. They returned not only 

with tangible success, but with 

perspective which allowed continuous joy in life. The original lost 

generation set an example worth 

following. Our generation should 

strive to become lost, because in that, 

we may just find ourselves. 

**This story is from a magazine spread that I created for my Pub Design class. 

Packing for Backpacking [Europe]

If you haven't personally heard my squeals of excitement recently, you may not know that after graduation (which is 13 days away, by the way) I am going backpacking in Europe! For like... 40 days!  With just one bag and everything!

A friend and I set off for Rome 36 hours after crossing the stage and turning our tassels.
Talk about busting out of Kirksville with a vengeance.

Here's all of the places that we're going:

We're using a nifty little service called Busabout, which seems a little less complicated than a Eurorail pass.  Through Busabout, we were able to book all of our inner-Europe transportation and accommodation.   

Obviously I'm EXTREMELY EXCITED as I've never been to Italy or Spain before -- and I can't wait to return to France! But I've learned that preparing for this adventure is UNLIKE anything else that I've ever done!  This trip is going to be a far-departure of the time that I brought two large suitcases for a week stay in London or the time that I brought 5 suitcases for a summer in Minneapolis.

I've been doing my research on how to live out of a single bag for an extended period of time, and how to handle life constantly on the road.  Resources that have been especially helpful include Rick Steves' Europe, Nomadic Matt's Travel Site, and Her Packing List.  These websites have made me think of things that I would have never thought to pack and made me ditch items that I thought would be necessary. 

Since it's important for me to be at least moderately comfortable and stylish on the road, I have put A LOT of thought into what I'm packing for this trip.

So what's making the cut?  

First off, we have THE BAG:  

The Patagonia Black Hole Duffel, A highly water-resistant and super durable gear bag duffel, designed to carry your gear to faraway places.  Let's hope so!

And inside of that bag, we have little bags!  Packing Cubes from eBags:

I had never heard of packing cubes before, but apparently they are a *must* for on-the-go travelers.  When backpacking, we may only stay at a certain location for a couple of nights, so it is very important to stay organized through all of this moving around.  The compression aspect of the cubes also helps with space management.  I have already received these in the mail and can tell they are going to be a Godsend!

And what's going in those bags? (Can you tell how extremely Type-A I can be yet?)

Slim Bag #1: Health & Beauty

 This little bag holds all of this...

-3 headbands

-Shampoo and conditioner samples (to get through the first couple of days, I'm planning on buying actual bottles once over there)

-Overnight hair rollers

-Nail clippers

-Tide-to-go pen

-Razor

-Roll-on perfume

-Olay facial wipes

-Dryer sheets (to freshen things up when need be, they also act as natural insect repellent)

-Travelon dry laundry detergent stripes (For washing clothes in a sink- I'm excited to see how these work.  They look like those Listerine strips)

-Fabreeze spray

-Baby powder (for those days when you want to skip washing your hair)

-Multivitamins (your immune system is heavily compromised when traveling)

-Ibuprofen

-Ponytail holder/bobby pins/spin pins for cute hair buns!

And of course there's a bit of makeup in there too!

-Mary Kay all-in-one tinted moisturizer with SPF

-Eyeshadow

-Roll-on blush

-Lip balm

-Mascara

Slim Bag #2: Electronics and Travel stuff

-Journal

-Chargers

-Power adapter (not pictured)

-Copies of passport, credit/debit cards

-Copies of travel info and booking numbers

-A couple of padlocks for keeping my bag and valuables secure in luggage lockers

Slim Bag #3: Accessories!

-Cloth scarf

-Silk scarf

-Brown leather belt

-Skinny gold belt

-Pink, cream, and black ribbon (can be used as belts or hair bows)

-Necklace

Small Bag #1: Workout stuff and swimsuit

-Tempo running shorts

-Running/yoga capris

-Quickdry tee

-Running singlet

-Sportsbra 

-Swimsuit

-A few magazine clip-outs of exercises

**I realize that some people would never entertain the thought of packing exercise gear when travelling, but there is really nothing like starting your day with a run on the Promenade des Anglais or through the trails in Cinque Terre.  And I don't want to miss out on that.  

 

Small Bag #2: Pajamas, camis, and underwear

-Neutral colored camisoles (for layering)

-PJs

Now the fun part!  

There really is an art to dressing for backpacking, but also being able to look somewhat less-touristy.  I picked out a slim selection of clothing that would mix-and-match well together, and would allow for a variety of activities: visiting churches and museums, walking around all day outside, shopping, lounging by the hostel pool, going to a pub, etc. 

Shirts, Sweaters, and Cardigans:

-Red floral blouse

-Orange print blouse

-Rose lace tank

-White sleeveless blouse

-Black tshirt

-Denim polka dotted shirt

-Navy blue v-neck sweater

-Cream sleeveless blouse

-Coral 3/4 sleeve tshirt

-Blue striped tshirt

-Navy cardigan

Pants:

-Slim leg blue jeans

-Black skimmers

-Green jeans

Shorts/Skirts/Dresses:

-Floral print dress

-Black and lace skirt

-Khaki shorts

-Denim shorts (with lace at the bottom!)

-Blue cotton lace print skirt

-Striped skirt

Shoes:

-Brown loafers

-Running shoes :)

-White TOMS wedges

-Flip flops (for questionable hostel showers)

-Black flats

And lastly, we can't forget accommodation for inclement weather!

-Light waterproof down jacket

-Umbrella

...And that's everything!  I've already done a "practice pack" -- everything fits comfortably, with enough rough for a few souvenirs of course :)

I'll have lots of time to relax and write after finals/graduation, so be looking for some exciting blog posts soon!

In Response to the Boston Marathon Tragedy

April 15 will always be a special date for me; it's the anniversary of my first full marathon.  This year, April 15 was also the day of the infamous Boston Marathon.

Anybody who has ever run a marathon has at least entertained the thought of running Boston.  Breezing through Newbury street, Ashland Park, and then finally attacking Heartbreak Hill.  Qualifying for Boston is a great achievement, but the event celebrates much more than just human strength and success.  

The Boston Marathon attracts runners from all corners of our country, as well as runners from nearly 100 other countries.  You must run a previous marathon within a certain time limit to qualify for Boston, making it a supremely prestigious event. (The current qualifying time for a male ages 18-34 is 3 hours and 5 minutes. For those of you keeping track, that's about a 7 min/mile pace... for 26.2 miles.)  There is an exception to having the minimum time requirement to run the event-- Runners who pledge to fund-raise for a cause can also participate.  Due to these strict requirements, what you have at Boston is really special: About 30,000 athletes who are all celebrating life and the pursuit of constant improvement and achievement for humanity.  

So of course people would flock to an event such as this.  I myself would love the opportunity to spectate Boston (I'm not even dreaming of running it anytime soon... but maybe one day).  It was this deep admiration of everything that the Boston Marathon stands for, and my proud devotion to the running community, that broke my heart at the first knowledge of the bombings on Monday.  

Terror was not just instilled in the mass of a crowd, it was instilled at one of the world's most inspiring events.  Personally, I will pray for Boston, donate blood, and go for a memorial run.  Those are the easy courses of action.  But what I really hope to do in remembrance of the Boston Marathon bombings is to promote some of the ideas that the Boston Marathon champions.  I will not allow terror to block these ideals of inspiration in my life, or my desire for others to experience them as well.

You should never be afraid to be inspired. 

Hope

Belief

Passion & Dedication

Love Towards Humanity

How to Have a Snow Day

1. Wake up at 11am.  Decide that that's OK, despite having wanted to wake up no earlier than noon.


2. Take a bubble bath.  Read a fashion magazine and come to the conclusion that you just don't like this season's biggest trends.  


3. Put your pajamas back on.  Be brutally honest with yourself: you're not going anywhere today.  No need to wear a bra. 


4. Light a candle named "North Pole".  Even though Christmas was 2 months ago, figure that the candle is completely appropriate for a day when you have 2 feet of snow.  Plus you just really like the way it smells and if nothing else, you can spend a day in Santa's shoes and know what it's like to prepare for Christmas months before the holiday occurs.  


5. Decide that the above thought alone renders cookies for breakfast acceptable.


6. Make a latte while your "break and bake" cookies toast up in the oven.


7. Pour your espresso into a London souvenir mug, the only one big enough to hold a gigantic latte.


8. For the first time, feel no yearning to be there instead of here.  


9. Open the window so you can smell the snow.


10. Listen to The Head and The Heart.


11. Write a letter to a friend.  Get a little emotional, realizing that you spent all of college together and are ever-approaching graduation. 


12. Get a little hungry.  Decide that today, you only want to eat chocolate.  


13. Finally convince yourself to at least look at some of the material for your 3 tests later on in the week.


14. Quickly retract any desire to learn about operations management, but get a little carried away in reading for your econ history class. 


15. Take your penguins outside for a photo shoot.  Shamelessly instagram a couple pics and send them to Facebook. 


16. Feel overwhelmed by social media and how public our lives have become. 


17. Question the whole idea of "blogging".  


18. Study some more. 


19. Decide that you need a jam break, and bust out some old Format tunes. 


20. Look out your window and decide that it would be fun to bellyflop from your 2nd story apartment into the several-foot-high snowdrifts below.  


21. Practice self restraint. 


22. Watch a documentary on Netflix about sugar consumption in the United States.


23. Make snow cream. 


24. Continue studying.


25. Feel guilty about the snow cream and do a few crunches.  Lay there for a second between reps and realize that you haven't watched the new How I Met Your Mother episode.


26. Search for the new episode online. Watch.  Feel slightly disappointed that you still don't know who Ted marries even though you've watched something like 160 episodes. 


27. Continue studying.


28. Buy a mutual fund in hopes of somewhat expediting the someday purchase of your dream Mini Cooper. 


29. Study some more.


30. Crumble from the cabin fever and decide that you're ready for sun, beaches, and sand.  Prematurely pack for spring break.

Challenging Independence

Ah, independence.  Isn't that the anthem of any spry 20-something?

But while some my age are just discovering their yearn for independence, this isn't a new song for me. 

I've always been fiercely independent.  That stems from the fact that I'm impeccably stubborn. 

For me, independence has always been the more comfortable choice.  

Taking care of myself.  Figuring things out by myself.  Operating on my own schedule. 

And I've found that independence can be a great, rewarding adventure.
I've seen the fruits of independence flourish.
Self discovery, the ability to solve problems, productivity, resilience, self respect.  

But as much as I love my independent nature, I have to ask:  Is it selfish to be independent?

Overly independent people tend to protect themselves from potential vulnerabilities.  In nature- in the wild- that's a good thing.  You don't get eaten by bears that way.  But in society, a place where (sure, some people are out to get you) but others just want to love and befriend you, shouldn't you be willing to compromise your independent spirit in hopes that you can lower your guard and become closer to people?

This week I've learned that there is a lot to be learned from vulnerability and exposing yourself to others.  

I always thought that asking for help was considered "selfish", or that it meant that I wasn't a strong enough person to figure out something on my own.

Last week I had surgery on my knee, landing me in crutches for 6 weeks.  That's 42 days of compromised mobility.  Not the most practical predicament for a college student.  In one week alone, I've had to rely on others for rides to and from wherever I needed to be.  I've avoided going grocery shopping because I can't stand the idea of not being able to do that by myself.  And I have developed a really great maneuver for charging through doors so that they fly open for just the right amount of time for me to shuffle through them.

Every time during the past week that I've had to ask for help, or accept help that has been offered, I felt a little bit defeated.

{{{ I should backtrack by mentioning that the situation with my knee is relatively not that bad at all.  I am fortunate that despite all of my running the past few years, my knee pain was not actually a result from being athletic, but rather a bone deformity that occurred when I was younger.  Six weeks on crutches in nothing compared to tearing an ACL and facing up to a year in recovery, or becoming permanently handicapped from a serious accident.  I hope that this prose does not come off as a complaint, but rather as an explanation of the inconvenience I've had to face and what I've been able to learn from it.  }}}

So returning to the original train of thought... 


I know that I'm strong willed and even defiant.  These are traits that are very much a part of who I am.  I would never abandon them; I recognize their importance in my life.  But I also realize the obstacles they may provide.

Because it is not comfortable for me to not practice independence, I've had to muster up a tremendous amount of courage to ask for the things that I need.  And as it turns out, I've received so much more than I ever asked for.

In a week I've learned that there is no shame in reliance.  People who care about you want to help you.  By rejecting their sentiments, you are rejecting the ability to let them care for you.  Being loved and cared for doesn't make you less strong, or less independent.  It just makes you peg-legged and in need of a good friend and helping hand.

A special thanks is in order to all of my friends and family who have been especially supportive and loving during my recovery process.  It truly means the world. 

An Intercultural Reflection

Preface: 

I haven't posted to my blog in over a month.  Tonight I am posting an essay that I wrote as a part of my Truman portfolio in order to graduate.  It is in response to explaining my undergraduate intercultural experience.  Due to the subject matter, the essay re-tells some of the stories that have previously been told in this blog.  I yielded to posting this for its potential redundancy, but the presentation of my reflections are told in a different way so reading the post may still be of some interest, I hope.

Furthermore, as some of you know, I have a heart for exploration and have recently become intrigued by the idea of pursuing travel writing as a hobby.  I am currently searching for freelance opportunities and may start a separate, travel-related blog.  (Now is probably a good time to mention that all content on this blog is my intellectual property.)  "It's a Fabulous Life" is meant to be a blog that tells stories of who I am or things that I am interested in- and right now a big part of that is wrapped up in wanting to travel the world.

Post:

     One time, Truman, you frustrated me to a point that I literally had to flee the country in order to recover my hindered spirit.  Being holed up in Kirksville sometimes sucks all the cultural diversity out of you so that even reading the New York Times travel section will make you tear up a bit.  At least, that's what happened to me.  That was when I knew I needed to go.  Somewhere.  Anywhere, really.  But since I spoke a little French and had always dreamed of the Riviera, I decided I'd go there. 

     The ticket and hostel were booked.  Then I called my mom.  I remember sitting on a bench outside of Violette Hall on a nice day when I candidly slipped into the conversation, "I think I'm going to France in a couple weeks.  After finals."  When I told my friends, the most common response was, "Have you seen the movie Taken?"  I didn't care.  I'm a dreamer; I let my mind wander often.  This time I would allow my body to follow.  

     I had been to France before, always holding the most romanticist view of Paris and the corresponding culture.  As a child I had been obsessed with the cartoon Madeline, and to this day I still idealize her sense of spirit and childlike rebellion.  I envied her as she pranced in front of the cartoon drawing of the Eiffel Tower while munching on baguettes and wearing a yellow beret.  I threw nothing short of an all-things-French-obsessed tantrum when my father traveled to Paris for his job.  "I want to go with yooouu" I would whine.  I was three.  "When you're older." he said.  "When?" I persisted.  He settled on "When you turn ten."

     That was a semi-promise I didn't forget.  So for my tenth birthday I found myself in Paris.   Memories of creamy fondue, gargoyles, the Louvre, and of course the magnificent Tour d'Eiffel resonated with me years after I left.  I'll especially never forget how a rainy night turned into a snow-laced wonderland after climbing the height to the top level of the Eiffel Tower.  Ideal for a February birthday.  It was nothing short of magical.

     But I wasn't finished with Paris.  It would be another seven years before I would return to the city, this time as a junior in high school and freshly educated of the mysterès of the Lost Generation (Ezra Pound, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, and Missouri's own T.S. Eliot).  It was a family vacation, and of course visiting the historical sites and attractions was a priority.  However, revisiting a foreign place is an interesting experience.  There for the second time, I was able to see past the necessity of “attractions”; instead I was determined to soak up the culture as much as I could.  I remember saying "I just want to be there.  I don’t really care what I do once I’m there.”

     I remember tracking down the famous Le Select cafe, where F. Scott Fitzgerald would frequently spend all day writing manuscripts that would one day be famous.  I lingered in the cafe as long as my family would tolerate, in hopes that something in the air would possibly waft over me, giving me... something.  While I was waiting for whatever that was, I enjoyed a cappuccino.   

     I returned home from that trip a little richer, and content for the time being.  

     When I began college, I always had hopes of studying abroad- Maybe France?  But then again, I wanted to try something new. Then an opportunity to study abroad in China arose, but I chose a summer internship instead.  Before I knew it, I was in the spring of my sophomore year with no real plans to commit to studying abroad.  At the time, I felt too attached to my schedule at Truman- the regularity of attending classes and organizational meetings and being surrounded with familiar friends.  I didn’t want to leave for an entire semester; I didn’t want to miss out on what I might leave behind me.  I didn’t consider all the opportunity I could potentially look forward to.  While now, as a senior, I look at that decision with disappointment, I do not necessarily regret my choice to not study abroad in college. 

     As a way of compensating for not formally studying abroad, I made effort throughout my college career to travel and experience different cultures.  My junior year I visited a friend in London during spring break.  A few months later I crossed the Atlantic again to explore the south of France.  During my senior year I was able to visit a friend in Greece for a week. 

     I could write pages upon pages about the cultural experiences I was able to soak up in each of these far-away places, but I’ll focus the remainder of this essay on my third return to France.  This trip holds a significantly special place in my heart, as it was a solo trek.  Travelling alone made me vulnerable to the culture.  If at any point I was uncomfortable, I couldn’t turn to a familiar face for comfort, advice, or company.  I would have to find that from the people I met along the way.  

     I stayed in a youth hostel in the city of Nice, which is centrally located along the Côte d’Azur.  The nearby cities of Cannes, Grasse, Ville-Franche, and Monaco were easily accessible by short train rides.  Staying in a youth hostel felt surprisingly familiar.  Its dorm-like atmosphere easily led to camaraderie between travelers, a good amount of which were also travelling independently.  While I spent the majority of my days wandering the streets of these cities unaccompanied by maps (and almost always accompanied by a baguette), it was nice to return to the hostel that night to meet up with faces that soon became familiar.  Nights were spent cooking dinner in the kitchen of the hostel, watching a foreign movie, and talking about all topics of life over glasses of wine.  I met young adults from around the world: Finland, Canada, Australia, Italy, Germany, and Bulgaria. 

     It was sad to return from a day of wandering to realize that a new friend had left Nice- either for home or another city along their journey.  And when it was my turn to leave, I was immensely jealous of those that were able to stay another night or two.  And though I was gone for but a week, my week had been fulfilling and wisely spent.  I recall wandering through various museums.  I recall shopping in both large department stores and open air food and craft markets.  I recall tasting “socca” and “salade niçiose”.  I recall the conversations I had with young adults of different nationalities and cultural views.  And even if these particular moments and memories ever fade, the feeling of my experience is lasting. 

     The list of places I have been fortunate enough to travel to within the United States and across the world is personally meaningful and significant, but the list of places I yearn to go in the future is outstanding and daunting.  You cannot go everywhere.  You will leave the earth before you’ve seen every place on earth that you want to see.  But travelling is the most classic case of balancing quality against quantity.  I would rather soak up a cultural experience than rush through a list of destinations.  Travelling isn’t about completing a checklist.  To compare it with anything linear of the sort would indicate a misunderstanding of travel’s beauty.  Travel encompasses you in many directions: it is the food you eat; it is the people you talk to and the questions that you ask of them.  

To quote Anthony Bourdain (who I wouldn’t mind being someday):  “In the few years since I’ve started to travel this world, I’ve found myself changing.”