Goodbye Southeast Asia

My decision to leave Southeast Asia was a sudden one. Unexpected. Last minute. Unprepared. Sad. Excited. Nervous. Apprehensive. Unsure. Somewhere in the middle, but home.
Not including this past year of living and teaching in Thailand --- After over 2 months of being on the road and in the air, living out of a rucksack, bargaining for toilet paper and towels, sleeping beneath dusty fans, and showering and brushing my teeth using a spicket (or containing part salt water), I’m turning into a bitter traveler. And I don’t want to be that traveler. That traveler that bitches at the constant hawking instead of turning their heads with a polite ‘no thank you’. That traveler who curses under their breath about an over-charge of perhaps 50 cents. That traveler who feels like their always getting screwed and can no longer focus on the open-minded, cultural, let-it-go point of view. That traveler who has trouble smiling at confusing cultural moments and habits and/or misunderstandings.

I don’t want to become that traveler. So, it is time for me to take a break. I started to think that part of it was Indonesia, that is, at least my experiences in Indonesia these last three weeks, or so. I wonder if it would have been different had we started our rucksack journey in Indonesia, and moved our way up through Malaysia. Would I then be bitter towards Malaysia instead? Well, to be quite honest, I don’t think so. I actually really loved Malaysia, both the bad and good and all the in between.

Indonesia, as an archipelago, is hard to travel. The country doesn’t seem to have any trash collection system, nor even the horrible solution of burning, as with Thailand. Instead, it just lies in massive 5/6 story high piles along highways, and the street gutters are where stores and households empty their personal garbage. Then there was the issue of me being Asian. Never before (seriously, in all of my 26 countries visited!) has my nationality come into so much question. Okay, so I can get through the general assumption that I’m Japanese, or the curious facial expression that I’ve learned to recognize before the question is even asked… but, what I cannot stand is the doubt, the disbelief! Here’s a true conversation:

Indonesian man: Konichiwa (“hello” in Japanese)
Me: No, I’m American. I speak English.
Indonesian man: Where are you from?
Me: America.
Indonesian man: No, you look Japanese.
Me: Well, I’m not. (Trying to walk away)
Indonesian man: (walking after me) Take off your sunglasses, let me see your eyes!

or…. here’s yet another true example:

Indonesian man: Where are you from?
Me: America.
Indonesian man: You look Japanese. Your face is like Japanese.
Me: Well, I was born in Korea, but I am American. So, I guess I’m Korean and American.
Indonesian man: No, you look Japanese. I think you Japanese.

Understand my frustration? This happens maybe 10 times or more a day!

Okay, well – to get back on track – leaving Southeast Asia. There’s also the issue of my Australian Working Holiday Visa. What a nightmare! So… back to the good ol’ U S of A. For a month.