Photo by Evita Robinson

Love. The more I learn about it the more worthless the word becomes; the more I feel it, the less its utterance is called for. Love is circular, love is a peak, love is a valley, love is around me, and love is inside me, before me, after me, and between me. I truly believe that all existence is love or a practice in it. Love is death, love is life, and love is strife. But the more I learn of it, the more I realize that love is none of these things. Love just is. (Some things just don’t require as much thought as we think. In fact, all these words I write are worthless compared to the feeling they attempt to evoke.)

When you travel you hear many peoples’ stories. You find that most people’s compasses are directed by this four-letter word, whether they use the word or not. As my stay in Thailand begins to come to a close I have been often lost in thought. Today, however, I found myself absent from my mind. I have experienced the joy I was seeking tenfold here in Thailand, but today was the first time I felt absolute clarity of mind. No four-letter word could describe it, but let’s just say it was lovely.

Each of us has given up something for this life. Life in general is full of sacrifice, but it can be argued that a life of travel is rife with sacrifice. Every time we go somewhere we are bound to leave new friends, new comforts, new customs behind. I’ve come to realize that this is not just a vagabond lifestyle, this is life and death. When you are open to it, travel can therefore become a crash course is the cycle of life and death. In short, travel can be a lesson is how to let go. (It’s called freedom, ladies and gentlemen.) But we don’t think of sacrifice as freedom. We think of it as a strife, we resist it; but if you ask me, a shift is occuring.

To confront one’s demons, many travel. Many call this “escapism”, but they don’t yet know the freedom and the courageous spirit that is exercised when you just go. You breath in, you breathe out, you live, you die, you land, you fly – all these are not mutually exclusive; they exist together, but we resist the “bad”. This life welcomes the yin and the yang. I’ve come to learn that therein, there is no good or bad, perfect or imperfect, right or wrong. There is only love. Sometimes we just forget that in order for a thing to be complete, there must be two sides and when you are in the valley, it can be hard to see the peak. After all the sacrifice, and confrontation, really, this is only love. (Bear in mind that I’m a guy who likes to look at the core of things, so take this as you will.)

They call it lust for life, but it is with love that I take flight, take refuge, and take one step after the other. This is no ordinary love. This is the love that welcomes change, that accepts that life is constantly in a state of flux; the kind of love that doesn’t warrant home-sickness. It is not the love you rely on when you’re lonely or the kind of love you make – it is part of you. It is the people that come together to see you off, the joy they bring you in absentia, and the way they will always welcome you back with warmth and loving kindness. This love I carry with me all over the world, boundlessly grateful to everyone that helps me see its yin and its yang, as each guides this evolution of self.

(God, I know this sounds a lot like all that New Age-y bullshit, but I vowed to own up to everything this experience yielded and, goddamn it, this is it.)

In short, I’ve come to realize just how special this love is. Not everyone carries with them the faith and strength that this sacrifice provides. I began this lesson long ago as a boy transplanted from one country to another and back again. I’m not going to pretend it’s all been sunshine and roses, because it’s hasn’t been. After all of that, however, what comes naturally to me is to live a life that is open; then I can take this omnipresent love I receive – in all its forms – and return it in a way that makes every day a practice in peace. And I know that even if I never spoke that four-letter word again, love would always be there to guide me.

Cambodia ignited more life into this experience than I had ever felt prior to crossing that border. There are definitely notable days in Thailand (i.e. waterfall as a group), but there was something alive in me while traveling to another country I’d wanted to for so long. Something organic. Something special. Something real…something that I connected to with the people on my journey.

On this journey, the life of a traveler, you come into contact with so many people within the places you see. So many people leave imprints on your life, for the rest of your life and I find myself wanting to hold onto many of them. But they are a part of the ebb and flow of the life of a nomad. These are a few gems I met along the way to and from Cambodia.

“Are you singer?”- Polin

“No, I’m a writer. I work in television in New York.”- Me

“Are you single?“- Polin

“Oh, am I single? Oh, no. I have a boyfriend. And you? Do you have any family, children?” -Me

“Yes, I have one daughter.”- Polin

“Congratulations! Are you married?”- Me

“Of course. No wife, no daughter.”- Polin

Polin was my guide and driver throughout all of Ta Prohm, Angkor Thom, and Angkor Wat. He shuttled me around in his tuk tuk through a horrid downpour and sunshine to make sure I saw everything I wanted to, and those I didn’t know I wanted to. He was sweet. There was a genuine innocence to him that really struck me as kind. After getting lost for twenty minutes in Ta Prohm, I needed to eat before continuing the journey. I’d already decided that I would pay for Polin’s lunch before he even sat down. I had no idea how frequently his income came,or how plentiful it was. I had to make sure he ate well. Our conversation webbed into talk of other countries he’d love to visit, as well as the fact that I was his first customer all month. It was September 29th. He spoke a lot about different salaries people could make in varying countries doing different types of work, especially in New York. His fee was $10 to drive me around the ruins from 1pm until close, and back to my hostel. I slipped him a tip him, as he slipped me a piece of paper with  all of his contact information (in perfect English), in case I needed a ride the next day.

While eating with Polin, I couldn’t help but meet eyes with Vahtaa (I apologize if the name is spelled wrong), a young man with the most beautiful eyes and chiseled face I’d seen in Cambodia. He smiled when all the children came up asking for me to buy something off of them. Not because of the rush, but because they would all stop and stare at me. He told me that they had never seen a foreigner with a feather earring like mine. They liked it.

“Are you from South Africa?”- Vahtaa

“No, America. I’m from New York.”- Me

“Oh because I am studying South African culture in school and you look like their style.” -Vahtaa

His English was impeccable. We spoke about how he was working in Ta Prohm when they shot Tomb Raider. His tales of Angelina Jolie and them shutting the site down for a time were entertaining. I was really captured by him, as he was so young and intelligent. I gave him my card with the link to the website on it, telling him it could help with his English reading. I really hope he stops by. More than that, I hope his future is as bright as his smile.

In the midst of my painful bowel before the Cambodian border, I hadn’t really noticed that Yalan had been one of the many people on the bus. From China, she’s traveling around and we ended up having only one person sit between us in the minivan ride from the Thai border back into Bangkok. It was in this ride we realized we were going the same way, to Chiang Mai. We now had a traveling partner in each other. We left Khao San Road, journeyed to Hua Lampong station to acquire tickets for the overnight train to Chiang Mai. Downtown, we ate dinner and got to know each other better. She is an amazing artist and allowed me into the world that is the pages of her personal journal. Though in Mandarin, it read like a comic book. She had little illustrations that depicted what she was talking about in words…well, characters. We were together from Cambodia all the way up to Chiang Mai, the next morning. I couldn’t have asked for better company.

Honorable mentions in this blog are:

Anthony, Georgia, and their Mom who I teamed up with in order to get Cambodian visas (sketchy) and make it across the border in one piece.

Also Ms. Jo Peeps, who was my right hand woman the entire time I was in Siem Reap. We shared a room, and the fish spa!

You all mean more than you know. Thank you.

Getting better…but damn.

So I got back into Thailand, from Cambodia, yesterday. Most of my documentation of the trip is going to be going there and while there, coming back was crazy. I caught a virus on my last morning there. Or at least that’s what the Thai doctor said here, at the hospital.

All I know is that I didn’t think I was going to make it back over the border. I felt like they were going to see me, quarentine me, and try to keep me in Cambodia.  Which would have been no bueno, as it’s said by rule of thumb that if you need medical assistance in Cambodia, the best thing to do is get to Thailand asap. I had to pull out my biggest acting to date.

I still don’t know what it was. It could have been the fish curry that I had the night before leaving. It was in a liquid sauce and may not have been cooked to boil. It also could have been the juice/fruit from the hostel’s breakfast on my last morning. Say they washed the fruit in tap water. Who knows? All I know is that true to form, my body reacts quickly when there is something in it that needs to come out.

It hit like the tundra. I got dizzy and my stomach started bubbling at the rest stop literally two minutes from the border. Thursday morning, I left half of my insides on one said of the border, and the other half on the Thailand side of the border. It was not pretty. Thankfullly, one of the women riding with me was armed with instant Imodium. It got me through the three and a half hour trek from the border to Bangkok.

After the ten hour trek on the train, to Chiang Mai, I got home and eventually made it to the hospital yesterday afternoon. No fever. Good blood pressure. No more loose bowels. Ya know, all the good stuff. I was left with a sore throat, that which has since subsided. Now I just have a bit of fatigue, sneezing, and an apparent sinus headache which makes my eyes hurt a bit. I feel like I have allergies.

I looked the doctor in the eye,”So, no malaria?”

He laughed. “No malaria, just virus. Drink a lot of water, rest, and I will prescribe dehydration packets for you.”

330 bhat later= $11 I had paid to see the doctor and got my prescription.

Thank you so everyone sending me well wishes. You guys rock for real. Love you all and I will keep you updated on the progress.

So, I’m headed to Cambodia. It’s official. The packing is done. I’m writing emails to everyone and catching up with the family back home before I begin this strenuous trip down and over to Cambodia.

The only female in the group is ditching the guys and headed to Angkor Wat by her lonesome.  This trip is long overdue in my life. I have been psyched about seeing, touching, and inhaling the air at Angkor Wat for a good year now. The time has come. The excuses are no more.

In a few hours, I’ll be starting the first leg of this trip, headed right back to where we came from, Bangkok. The field producers and other cast members are not coming, for financial and visa limitations. The show must go on, even if I tape this portion myself. I will officially be on my Lara Croft, Tomb Raider shit! I am PSYCHED! This is where I’ve really been wanting to go… here goes something.

Onwards and upwards, my friend

So I’ve been working on coordinating everyone’s travel itineraries. Everything should be settled within the next couple days and one lucky cast member – our least traveled, in fact – will get a crash course in the vagabond lifestyle. And it should look a little like this:

• Drive from Louisiana to Ft. Lauderdale (approx 15 hours)
• Fly to L.A. at 7am (approx 5 hours)
• Leave a day and a half later from L.A.
• Connect in London (approx 10hours)
• Fly to Hong Kong (approx 12 hours)
• Haul ass to connect to our final destination: Bangkok, Thailand! (approx 2 hours)

Total travel time: approximately 44 hours, not including layovers. You’re welcome, Jeremiah.

So since I am the bearer of this itinerary, I figured I’d show him around L.A. a bit. That is, if his fear of flying doesn’t propel him into permanent catatonia.

Stay tuned…

During the last few weeks of June, fortune smiled up on me and I was able to share the incredible experiences that Ecuador has to offer with my longtime friend Amy Cao, NYC food writer and creator of the mouthwatering Amy Blogs Chow.

Amy and I met at Boston University when we were college roommates nearly eight years ago and quickly became inseparable. Between our bicoastal lives and global travels, time and distance eventually caught up with us. Neither of us could believe that 2 years had passed since I had last seen her during my first trip to South America when we traveled together from Buenos Aires to Rio de Janeiro.

It’s hard to explain the incomparable feeling of sharing a travel experience with someone you love.

How the joy captured in the moment is joy doubled, and forever encapsulated in your shared memory.

By the same token, the tense moments, the will-we-or-won’t-we-make-the-bus/get-robbed-at-the-ATM/find-a-hotel-at-10pm-in-a-new-town anxiety, the clumsiness of fumbling through language barriers and cultural divides, are made much more bearable – and even laughable – when you encounter them with someone you know and trust.

When you return home and start to tell your stories, try to convey the places you’ve been and how they’ve changed you, you find that despite your photos and flowery adjectives, no one else will ever understand those moments. Stumbling across markets filled with acres of vegetables and babies playing on potato sacks, their angel faces caked with dirt. Riding in the back of a truck on a bumpy dirt road past cows and laundry drying in the sun on the way to somewhere beautiful. Smiling at an old lady whose twinkling eyes crinkle at you as they wonder what faraway land you come from.

No one else will be able to recall the wind in your face, the sun smiling blindingly upon you, the realization and absolute conviction that the world is, indeed, your oyster.

There is much to be said for experiencing that moment on your own, for feeling every ounce of your personal power, and knowing that you can take on the world – and succeed. And yet the more I travel, the more I find that there is to be said for stringing that moment between two souls, for allowing the bliss of traveling to expand as it is shared -  until it encases both of you in a memory that you will carry forward together.

Have a taste in Episode 4.

The Nemi Lake Crew

Check it out!   Jet Set Zero Italy Week 4: Best-Of Edition

By now you’re all aware of the Jet Set Zero model of travel. If not, refer to Episode 2 (and find out about the dead guy on our doorstep) as the job hunt begins in Quito and see how we fare when Episode 3 airs this week.

Jet Set Zero goes like this: 1 country. 90 days. 4 soon-to-be-friends.

Problem: No money.

Solution: Find job.

I caught the traveling bug long before I joined Jet Set Zero. How did I foot the bill for my wanderlust before?

Soaking it up in Rio de Janeiro

I’ve financed my travels in different ways, including working both stateside and abroad. A fellowship in Tokyo during university landed me a job in asset management in Singapore post-graduation. Like Freddie and previous Jet Set Zero cast members, I also taught English in Korea, which offers some of the best paid ESL jobs coupled with a high standard of living. We at Jet Set Zero are living proof that working while abroad is one of the most rewarding ways to sustain a life overseas.

My favorite street meat stand in Busan, Korea

Whenever I’ve returned home to Los Angeles between trips, I’ve spent time working short-term contract jobs to replenish my bank account – anything from assisting the CEO of a hedge fund to conducting research for a consulting firm. I’ve also freelanced for my alma mater, writing economic forecasts on the real estate markets in Southern California for USC’s Lusk Center for Real Estate.

Catching up with friends back home

Working in this way – on my own terms – has given me the ability to save money for traveling and the freedom to travel as needed. And yes, for me, travel is a need.

A few weeks ago I was interviewed by freelancing guru Michelle Goodman, author of My So-Called Freelance Life and the inspirational blog The Anti 9-to-5 Guide. Her book and website should be some of the first stops for anyone aspiring to break free of the bonds of cubicledom. Michelle was interviewing people who, like me, resist the security of a permanent job in favor of the perks – ahem, freedom – of contract work or consulting.

Check out what I have to say in her article on ABC News Money column.

“You can settle down later, but I hope you never do. ”

-Carl Voigt, USC professor who changed my life

A Southern Italian mom's heaven.

When I said I wanted to gain ten pounds on pasta in Italy, I didn’t actually want the lbs to produce a double chin in my last pictures from the trip (which is inconveniently in the Amalfi Coast, where I only wear bathing suits). But here I am at week six in carb country and I’m 6 pounds heavier than when I left the States. I’m just about pasta-ed out, but before heading out of the country, the Jet Set Italy crew wanted to learn the secret to making chewy spindles of pasta so we can star at future dinner parties. If I’m going to be chubby, I’m bringing you all down with me.
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