Thursday, July 19, 2012
Travelling is one of those things that you can't exactly define by words. It's not something literal, it's something practical and the meaning itself varies in accordance to different people. Some people like it comfortable, some like it otherwise, it depends. For me, I prefer living their lives as they are. I mean you're crossing the ocean to be in this foreign country, you might as well eat their food and just walk in their shoes for a couple of days or weeks. It's for the new experiences, the thrill, the excitement, the wonder of exploration and the satisfaction of surviving a completely different life than usual.
One of the best things about traveling is coming home with a wealth of memories to share with people. " look what I did"! I can say. "Look how different I am now!" It’s an ordeal I put myself through—tugging myself away from the comfortable and the familiar and immersing myself in the terrifying strangeness of the unfamiliar in order to widen my perspective on experience. It's not something easy, especially for someone repressed as me, it's actually quite terrifying. When you're in the hands of a bunch of strangers who are even though tremendously nice and welcoming, gives you that inevitable acquaintance zone aura that just makes you feel a bit of an outsider. I feel like my voice is taken away from me, and the only way to recover that voice is to go home again where I am safe, secure, and strong. But it's a challenge, and I'm accepting it with all the courage and strength I have.
This marks the middle of my trip, and I'm still more than another week away from the end of it. I've learned a lot, at least I think I have, and I still have more to see and do. There are a lot of aspects in a third world country that differs so much to the usual way of living I am accustomed with, and it's a real eye-opener. Morally, emotionally, physically, politically, economically, hygienically, historically and especially in the spiritual aspects, there are a few things that we're ahead, and lots of things that we're lagging behind, and living the middle-class Egyptian life really emphasizes those differences.
So while I'm immersing myself in this lifestyle, worrying about my voice getting lost here in the middle of the unfamiliar, I try to remember that my voice and my story will be all the stronger for it when I board that jet plane back home, and by then I'll be able to share my stories, memories and observations in the way that I've always had. Til then, Happy Ramadhan :)
Labels: backpacking