MERGE life+travel - Sept/Oct 2013 (#2)

CAMBODIA  KYRGYZSTAN  SRI LANKA  HONG KONG  ABU DHABI  A GUIDE TO OKTOBERFEST + MORE!

SEP/OCT 2013

Cambodia DISCOVER

by MOTORBIKE

SEP/OCT 2013

is a lifestyle magazine that inspires & unites full-time travelers worldwide with engaging stories, insights for your next journey, stunning photographs, remarkable worldwide events, and even more: aims to incite you to make a transformation towards a life fueled by these rich experiences if you aren’t living it already.

editorial team Editor-in-Chief: Nicole Beck Editorial Assistant: Mosila Andrei Alexandru Contributing Editor: Dr. Forrest Beck, ND Contributing Editor: Jacob Moss Copy Editor: Kristin Sengdeng

Design by HALF ASLEEP STUDIO Creative Director: Natalie Walstein Design Assistant: Rebecca Brayman

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a note from nicole

I know you will love this issue of MERGE. A little something for us all; from the poetic description with which Hannah Loaring depicts the country of Cambodia on the back of a motorbike, to the simultaneous feeling of hilarity and nausea you might experience when you read of Jacob Moss’s night in Kochkor, Kyrgyzstan. I am so fortunate to work with all of these incredible writers, and so happy to be able to share their talents with YOU! If you love MERGE and the idea of true unbiased travel writing, please share information about the magazine with your friends and HELP US GROW! See you on the road of life,

Nicole Beck

Founder & Editor-in-Chief

>> photo: sunset over the snake river canyon near twin falls, idaho (usa) by nicole beck

atlas score MERGE has created a ATLAS

ranking system to #

give you a quick idea

of how committed a writer is to a life of perpetual travel and how difficult this life might be for them. ATLAS is an acronym for Assessment of Travel Liberty And Sovereignty. How unfettered from conventional responsibilities, how free to do as they please and how deeply committed they are to a life dedicated to travel. Each question is granted half a star for a possible total of 5 stars.

4. Reach? Are they traveling inter-

nationally?

5. Hand to Mouth? Have they

found a way to work independent of location?

6. Spring Chicken? Are they under

the age of 50?

7. Expat? Have they spent over

5 years generally outside of their home country?

8. Rolling Stone? Can they move

at anytime?

9. Free Agent? Do they travel 1. Homeless? Is there a place of re-

fuge they can return to between trips?

2. Can they hack it? Have they

been traveling for over two years?

3. Mouths to feed and backs to

wash? Are they traveling with children?

independent promotions?

of

sponsors

and

10. Crazy? Have they done some-

thing extraordinary, exhibited spec-tacular courage, or entered a unique situation by choice?

Some examples include travel to restricted areas, having a baby in a foreign country, or maybe an extreme hobby across many countries.

>> To find out more about any writer, simply click their name for a direct link to their personal website or blog.

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regional dialects

The contributors to MERGE Magazine are as diverse as our incredible planet. For many, English is a second, third, or even fourth language. Their writing is their voice, and just as we enjoy hearing an accent on a foreign speaker, we do not overly edit their writing to make it sterile for American eyes and ears. We allow the writer’s voice to shine through so you are able to have more of a personal storytelling experience as you read an article. Yes, our publication originates in the U.S., but there are readers from all over

the world enjoying the captivating stories found under the covers of MERGE. We appreciate the courage that it takes to write a piece of work for thousands of people to read, in a language that is not native. In addition, writers from the U.K., Australia, and other English-speaking countries will submit with spelling and grammar that is proper in their homelands. Please do not jump to conclusions if you see “traveler” spelled as “traveller” or some other instance.

Respect the diversity of this world and enjoy the stories!

Editorial Notes

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Frequent Flyers >> Meet the

Team

NICOLE BECK Editor-in-Chief

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DR. FORREST BECK Contributing Editor

JACOB MOSS Contributing Editor

KRISTIN SENGDENG Editor

MOSILA ANDREI ALEXANDRU Editorial Assistant

NATALIE WALSTEIN Creative Director

REBECCA BRAYMAN Design Assistant

arrivals & departures >> This issue’s traveling team of contributors

HANNAH LOARING FURTHER BOUND U.K. to Cambodia

NINA FUSSING WHEELING IT Denmark to Hong Kong

JACOB MOSS UPICKAPATH Australia to Kyrgyzstan

NICOLE BECK MERGE MAGAZINE U.S.A. to U.A.E.

FORREST BECK, ND ART OF SELFISHNESS U.S.A./Canada to U.A.E.

SUSAN SHAIN TRAVEL JUNKETTE U.S.A. to Nicaragua

PAMELA MACNAUGHTAN SAVOIR FAIRE ABROAD Canada to Sri Lanka

Meet our Contributors

7

in this issue

Kyrgyzstan

92 Nicaragua

14 Abu Dhabi, UAE

72

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38

Calendar of Events

For the Beer Lovers

Sept./October 2013

Guide to Oktoberfest

40

SEP/OCT 2013 Hong Kong, China

///// THE STAPLES 10 Calendar of Events 84 What in the World Did You Say?

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Cambodia

///// TRAVEL LOG 14 Is Volun-Tourism Your Key

to Perpetual Travel?

by Susan Shain

26 Love, Hate, and the Desire

That Binds

by Pamela MacNaughtan

38 For the Beer Lovers 40 Into the Heart of Asia

by Nina Fussing

60 Cambodia

by Hannah Loaring

72 Out of the Frying Pan & Sri Lanka

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Into the Fire: The UAE Paradox by Nicole Beck

92 Escaping Kyrgyzstan’s ‘otel

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Fight the Flight

By Dr. Forrest Beck

from Hell on Horseback

by Jacob Moss

///// EDITORIAL 52 Fight the Flight: How to

Avoid Feeling Like the Walking Dead on Your First Week in a New Country

by Forrest Beck, ND

calendar of events

SEPTEMBER 7

1

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9

US TENNIS OPEN ENDS IN NEW YORK

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the venice historical regatta, italy

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Have that garage sale or book that trip!

>> photo by carlo naya

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4

fight procrastination day

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another look day As you de-clutter and prepare for travel, take a second look to make sure you are donating and recycling anything you can.

steve erwin's death Steve Erwin “The Crocodile Hunter� died while filming an underwater documentary on this day in 2006.

new york fashion week: sept. 5-12

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sturminster newton cheese festival, uk

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oktoberfest IN munich, germany (and worldwide)

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Check out beer festivals around the world on pg. 38. >> photo courtesy of the

great american beer fest

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singapore formula 1 grand prix

grape throwing festival in mallorca, spain

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20 international day of peace >> photo by jenny z.

29 19 tet trung thu, vietnam

Mid-Autumn or Moon Festival >> photo by STEPHEN

J. SULLIVAN

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safety pin invented on this day in 1849

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Calendar of Events: SEPTEMBER 11

calendar of events

OCTOBER

1

VEGETARIAN DAY albequerque international balloon fiesta, new mexico: oct. 5-13

>> photo courtesy of paul d. deberjeois

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exploration of space begins as sputnik orbits the earth in 1957

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2

3

4

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MAHATMA GANDHI'S BIRTHDAY (BORN 1869) Also known as the International Day of Non-Violence.

face youR FEARS day >> photo by steven

o’sullivan

fair trade month Be thoughtful about what you buy and from whom you buy it.

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9

10

11

29

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31 united nations day

internet day (1969) The first internet communication was sent.

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OCT. 12-14: DISCOVERY DAY, COLUMBUS DAY, DISCOVERY OF AMERICA DAY Hail to the first world explorers! >> photo by Maciej Podg贸rski

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reptile awareness day Habitat loss and the threat of extinction are significant concerns. This day promotes awareness of reptiles, their natural environments and ecological challenges.

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20 EVALUATE YOUR LIFE DAY

music day Promotes awareness of the cultural, learning, and global importance of music in society.

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>> photo by peter mazurek

Calendar of Events: OCTOBER 13

travel log

/// LOCATION Nicaragua is the largest country in the Central American isthmus & is one of the poorest countries in South America.

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Is Volun-Tourism Your Key to Perpetual Travel?

A study in Nicaragua » Words & photos courtesy of susan shain, TRAVEL JUNKETTE

The air is thick with moisture and the smell of garbage. The thermometer, if there was one in the vicinity, would read well over 95°F (35°C).

I’ve just taken a cold shower, yet I’m already dripping in sweat. I’m perched precariously on my bicycle, swerving and often dragging my feet on the ground to maintain balance.

This morning, I’ve already narrowly avoided collisions with a horse, a cart bursting with bananas, and at least three different taxis. As I ride, I pass by a group of men sitting on a curb in undershirts and sandals.

They appear to still be drunk from the night before. They yell a variety

of colorful expressions at me (none that I haven’t heard before).

Why am I here? Is it worth it?

Then, I arrive at school. Small children the color of coconuts spill out of the gates, shouting “Hola, Susi!” and quickly grab for my hands. One even runs up to take my bicycle from me, proud that he’s able to assist a teacher.

It doesn’t take me long to remember. This is why – the smiles on these kids’ faces, and on my own.

The sweaty bike rides, the incessant calls of thoughtless men, and the never-ending diet of rice and beans -- they’re all made worthwhile by the kids at my school.

Is Volun-Tourism Your Key to Perpetual Travel?

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The Wonder of Volunteering Abroad Earlier this year I volunteered in Nicaragua for three months with an organization called La Esperanza Granada. Their focus is on education, with the majority of the work taking place in elementary schools in impoverished barrios surrounding Granada. The organization has been running for eleven years and has a strong system that “gives a hand up, not a hand out.�

Their mission is well thoughtout, and their work, important.

Teachers in Nicaragua are overworked and underpaid. The students are desperate for an education that could lead to a decent-paying job, but often lose focus or get lost in the shuffle.

La Esperanza Granada has a small army of international volunteers who work in the schools as teachers’ assistants or English teachers. There are also volunteers who work in the office to bolster their fundraising and marketing efforts. The goal of the volunteers is to provide support to theteacher and encouragement to the children.

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"Teachers in Nicaragua are overworked and underpaid. The students are desperate for an education that could lead to a decentpaying job, but often lose focus or get lost in the shuffle."

My experience was wonderful.

I was able to spend three months living and working in the oldest city in all of Central America. And because I was a volunteer, I had an automatic circle of friends, I vastly improved my Spanish, and I met and interacted with the local people on a deep level.

The best part, however? The life-changing part? Well that had to be my students. They were the shiniest part of any day, and they taught me more about appreciation and gratitude than I could ever teach them. Their positivity never ceased to amaze me, and completely reaffirmed my belief that happiness comes from within. These kids had

next to nothing, but were some of the most smiley, giggly, and energetic kids I’ve ever come across.

I’ve built my life and career around my love of travel. I work seasonal jobs and do freelance work online not for glory, fame, and riches (still waiting on those!), but for freedom. The freedom to fall in love with a country on a visit and return as a volunteer. The freedom to earn a living with my laptop while there.

The freedom to spend my days with some of the cutest little people the

"They taught me more about appreciation and gratitude than I could ever teach them‌... and completely reaffirmed my belief that happiness comes from within."

world has to offer -- giving them love, motivation, and high-fives, and receiving far more than that in return. If it sounds amazing, that’s because it is. But only if done right, and for the right reasons.

The International Volun-Tourism Fad Everybody wants a piece of international volun-tourism these days. There are companies and 18

organizations devoted to navigating the waters for newbie travelers and would-be do-gooders. Some of them charge thousands of dollars to organize a volunteer placement, housing, and language exchange.

The concept behind it is great, but amidst all the racket, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to find programs that are both beneficial to a community and meaningful to a volunteer.

The volun-tourism fad has been most detrimental when wielded

"I’ve built my life and career around my love of travel." by over-eager parents of high-school and college students. In these cases, it’s serving as an avenue for wealthy kids to travel abroad -- with the goals of boosting their college and/ or internship applications, and not of helping others or learning anything.

These students could be doing more good in their hometowns.

Many young volunteers came to Nicaragua as if it were something to check off on a resume or tell their friends at home about. Since they weren’t there for the right reasons, these were often the volunteers who got frustrated and didn’t see the point in what they were doing. This frustration led them to slack off in their tasks, and instead focus on partying, traveling, and making new friends.

During my months in Nicaragua, the only disappointing parts of my day were, sadly, the other volunteers. I’d occasionally see them sitting, hungover, in a corner of the classroom -- not assisting

with anything, and likely, hurting the image the children had of us. Worst of all was arriving at school and having students run up to me to ask where a certain volunteer was. Though everybody made a time commitment when they agreed to volunteer with the organization, many people didn’t take it seriously and would leave to travel in the middle of their stint. This confused the children, frustrated the Nicaraguan employees, and angered the more dedicated volunteers.

Is Volun-Tourism Your Key to Perpetual Travel?

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Volunteering Abroad Isn’t a Vacation

Volunteering abroad isn’t a vacation; you’re working, and you’re not getting paid. You’re not chilling at a hostel; you’re integrating yourself into a community and into people’s lives. There’s no degree of separation like there is when you’re just passing through. That’s the beauty of it, as well as the danger.

When you’re traveling, you check in to your accommodation, enjoy some local food (and perhaps alcohol), and spend some time doing the normal tourism and leisure

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activities. There’s nothing wrong with this; it’s what I do the majority of the time I’m on the road.

The positives: it’s easy and flexible. If you get a little too drunk one night, or decide you want to take off to a new city the next day, no big deal.

The negatives: you’re not becoming immersed in the place you’re visiting. You may not get to meet any locals, and you won’t learn as much.

Volunteering is completely different. When you’re living and volunteering somewhere, you’re expected to care. The local people will assume you’re invested in them and their community. Because of this, they’ll reward you with respect and trust. Though this is beautiful, it’s also a lot of responsibility – and is not to be taken lightly. In order to have a positive experience, you need to carefully assess whether volunteering abroad is right for you. People who choose this option without the careful planning and forethought it deserves can make the experience less than ideal for co-workers, fulltime employees, and those that should be benefiting from their volunteered time.

Should You Volunteer Abroad?

Though it’s awesome that you want to volunteer abroad, it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you. Here are some questions to ask yourself when deciding how you can best use your time to serve others.

What is your motivation? When you think about the way your volunteer experience is going to

look, are you picturing a bunch of new friends and cheap booze?

That’s a totally respectable desire (one that we’ve all had), but not one that fits with a volunteer experience. Go on that backpacking trip through Southeast Asia and have a killer time. If you’re volunteering to get into a “good” school or make your resume look better, then why not try volunteering at home? There are just as many places that need your help right in your neighborhood.

Is Volun-Tourism Your Key to Perpetual Travel?

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Does the volunteering project align with your interests? I was shocked to meet people volunteering with the schools that didn’t really like kids. I don’t know if they weren’t aware of that prior to working with kids on a daily basis, but it’s definitely something they should’ve considered. There are so many wonderful organizations out there; you’re bound to find one that jives with you. You’re going to be the most useful when you’re passionate and excited about the work, so make sure you’re looking 22

for the right volunteer opportunity.

Do you have the skills necessary to offer assistance? I often thought about joining the PeaceCorps once I graduated from college. What changed my mind was talking to many former Corps-members who complained that they’d had no actual skills to offer, which made it difficult to help. I don’t consider myself to have many practical skills, so that didn’t sit well with me. I have teaching experience, I’m good with kids, and I speak Spanish. Those are all skills

that fit perfectly with my volunteer project in Nicaragua. There are a lot of other volunteer opportunities that wouldn’t fit my profile. For example, anything involving driving or lifting heavy things. Two of my least favorite things. Committing serious thought to your ability to help others will pay off. Not only will your own experience be more rewarding, but anyone whose life you touch as a result will be grateful to have had someone as invested and passionate as yourself.

How much time do you have to commit? Really think about this.

Assess your money situation, prior obligations, and how much time you actually want to work for free. Once you’ve made the commitment, stick to it. If you don’t have a lot of time, maybe find a volunteer opportunity where you’re doing marketing or manual labor. There’s not as much emotional attachment that way.

If you’re volunteering with kids, I think the absolute minimum should be one month. It takes kids a little while to build up trust, and having new people come in and out of their lives so frequently isn’t going to be helpful.

Are you going to be happy in your new location? I’d advise that everyone travel to their chosen location before going to volunteer there. What if you hate the food or the culture? You probably wouldn’t want to spend a significant amount of time in the country helping its people. Before choosing to volunteer with La Esperanza, I’d traveled in Nicaragua and knew that I felt comfortable there and really liked the city of Granada.

Have you thoroughly researched your chosen organization? There are many organizations out there, and they all offer different levels of assistance. If you haven’t done much international traveling, you probably want to choose an organization that offers more support. If you feel comfortable with your travel skills and are on a budget, then many in-country organizations would be a great fit. You also want to make sure the organization is legit and has thoroughly assessed their mission and methods of providing service. There are a lot of sites to help you research opportunities; I list several that I like on the resources page of my blog.

Is Volun-Tourism Your Key to Perpetual Travel?

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Are you going to be frustrated if you don’t see immediate results?

This is an important question, and one that I think many would-be volunteers fail to ask. The odds are that you’re not going to see immediate change, especially if you’re not volunteering for an extended period of time. Before you agree to any opportunity, it’s important to adjust your expectations.

How to Make the Most of Your Experience

As with many things, you’ll get back what you put in to international volunteering. It’s funny how the universe is so predictable like that. If you focus on partying, you’ll end up after three months with a hangover, no money, and the feeling that you just spent three months partying. It won’t be a wonder why you feel like you “didn’t make a difference.” You probably didn’t.

Put in the time and effort, and you’ll be rewarded. You may not be rewarded with accolades or money, but you’ll know it when you see it.

Well, actually, you’ll feel it. A child 24

finally understanding the difference between multiplication and addition, the grateful sigh of the teacher as you help a rowdy student focus, or boosted confidence reflected by the eager raising of a hand.

But, it’s also important to remember that you’re not going to effect great change in a moment’s notice. To do this, you may have to adjust your expectations. This is fundamental in having a positive experience, both for you and the community in which you’re working.

All of the La Esperanza volunteers attended a weekly meeting at which we’d bid adieu to departing volunteers and welcome new arrivals.

The departing volunteers were asked to reflect on their experiences. I was shocked by the number of volunteers who said that their time was “much different” than they’d expected, or that they hadn’t made “as big of a difference” as they’d hoped. I’m not sure what they were expecting. For the children to suddenly learn to read and write? For Nicaragua to immediately ascend from its status as the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere?

When volunteering, you have to view yourself as part of a system

that’s building something great.

My being in Nicaragua didn’t directly change any lives, but the continued presence of volunteers at the schools is instrumental in building confidence, preventing students from falling behind, and giving support to overworked teachers.

Over the years, this will cause change. Big change.

When I made my goodbye speech, I shared one of my favorite quotes: “We cannot do great things on this Earth; only small things with great love.” Mother Teresa said that.

I think she knows a thing or two about doing things with great love.

If you live your life with the intention of bettering the world around you, you will.

"We cannot do great things on this Earth; only small things with great love." - Mother Teresa

About the Author: Susan Shain International Volunteer & Writer at Travel Junkette CURRENT LOCATION: Alaska, USA / CITIZENSHIP: USA

Susan Shain has been working seasonal ATLAS

adventure jobs and traveling the world since

2008. She believes that volunteering, whether

at home or abroad, is one of the most rewarding experiences you can have. For more information on traveling, working, and volunteering abroad, check out the resources page of her blog, Travel Junkette. You can also catch up with her on Twitter and Facebook.

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Is Volun-Tourism Your Key to Perpetual Travel?

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/// LOCATION Colombo is the largest city & the commerical, industrial and cultural capital of Sri Lanka and is located along the Southwest coast of this vibrant country.

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Love, Hate, and the Desire That Binds » Words & photos by Pamela MacNaughtan, SAVOIR FAIRE ABROAD It takes a lot for me to admit defeat. I’m Irish, English, and Scot

tish, so naturally I blame my heritage for my stubbornness and resolve to ignore advice from fellow travelers who I consider negative or aggressive. And by aggressive I mean they tell me a place sucks and that I should go elsewhere, and I promptly make a note to ignore them and go anyway. Childish? Maybe, but that is how I roll.

My trip to Colombo, Sri Lanka was no different. I was told flat out to avoid Colombo, and I planted my feet and stayed in Colombo. Most of the time I come out on top in these

situations and confidently do a ‘nah, nah, nah-nah, nah’ when I prove someone wrong. This time however, the naysayers were kind of right. I should have skipped Colombo.

As a solo female traveler with sizable cleavage I face many challenges that other travelers do not, the biggest one being attention – especially when traveling in Asian countries. While I’ve become immune to the attention in many countries, my first encounter with Sri Lanka left me unnerved and running for the nearest big brand hotel chain.

I checked into a guesthouse near the beach, which looked lovely,

Love, Hate, and the Desire That Binds by Pamela MacNaughtan

27

travel log except for a beady-eyed Sri Lankan man who stared at me in a way that made me feel as though my room might have hidden peep holes.

Ignoring the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach I left my things in the room and walked down to the beach where I found a place to sit down, have a drink, relax, and try to settle into a new and unfamiliar place.

I sat at my table watching local families play on the beach, and thought about my guesthouse, trying to ignore a man standing nearby, staring at me. Should I stay and see

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what happens? Should I leave and find somewhere that made me feel less uneasy? I pondered my options as I left the restaurant and walked down the beach, heading back to my guesthouse. That’s when my decision was made for me.

The moment I stepped off the beach a local man was beside me asking me where I was staying.

I recognized him as the man who had stood outside the beachside restaurant, staring at me, just fifteen minutes earlier. Did he hide somewhere on the beach, waiting for me to leave the restaurant? I walked straight ahead, deciding to ignore him and hoping he would go away.

He didn’t get the message. He kept following me, asking where I was from, whether or not I was traveling alone, and where I was staying. I was rattled and didn’t know how to get rid of him. I knew I couldn’t walk back to the guesthouse as he would then know where I was staying. I had to walk somewhere different and completely unfamiliar to me in hope that he would eventually tire of being ignored.

That’s when I came across my salvation, a red mototaxi with a kind-faced driver who immediately understood that I was uncomfortable

with my walking partner. As I climbed inside his mototaxi and sat down my decision was made. I asked the driver to take me to my guesthouse where I collected my backpack, and then instructed him to drive me to the Hilton, where I hid for the rest of the day.

It was shameful, but I was hating Sri Lanka. Traveling in Asia can be challenging at times as the culture is different from that of Canada (my home country). Staring is normal

in Asia, and for the most part I am cool with it. Asian people, from what I have experienced, are curious and sometimes daring in their curiosities.

I’ve had older women in China stop me in the street and start poking my boobs, and then try looking down my shirt in a way that a 1 year old would go in search of their mom’s breasts at lunchtime. It was incredibly awkward, but as a woman I can understand her fascination with the size of my cleavage. When that attention comes

Love, Hate, and the Desire That Binds by Pamela MacNaughtan

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"By day I would venture outside the hotel to explore the city. By night I would sit on a lounge chair outside, look up at the stars, and listen to the Indian Ocean crash against the shoreline."

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from a man, it’s different. There is an underlying sexual component that comes into play.

Why do I say that? It’s something that seems to be beaten into the minds of solo female travellers. It’s an incorrect notion, of course; not all men want to get in your pants. I know this. That being said I also know my gut. I’ve been very fortunate on my travels and I haven’t had too many bad experiences. So when I’m in a situation that makes me feel sick to my stomach, I listen!

That night all I could think about was heading back to Thailand, but a cooler head prevailed after a good night’s sleep, and I awoke feeling different. There was no way I could go back to Thailand early, not after saying I was going to stay in Colombo and prove that it was awesome. No, I needed to save face.

I needed to stick it out.

I needed to move to a less expensive hotel.

With a room in the basement of a local boutique hotel, which was nicer than most of the hotel rooms I’ve stayed in (it came with a hot tub in the bathroom), I used this as my Colombo buffer. By day I would venture outside the hotel to explore the city. By night I would sit on a lounge chair outside, look up at the

stars, and listen to the Indian Ocean crash against the shoreline.

As perfect as my hotel made me feel, walking around Colombo constantly assaulted my senses. I fell for a mototaxi scam similar to tuktuk scams in Thailand where drivers claim they will take you to popular and important temples, but they end up taking you to two minor temples and three shops. Something I pride myself on avoiding in Thailand.

When I realized I fell for the scam in

Colombo, I instantly felt frustrated with myself, and the city. But after ditching the driver I stumbled upon a mototaxi driver who was friendly, honest, and after a few minutes of confused conversation he agreed to take me to a local outdoor market.

I fell in love with Colombo at that market. Hidden from the main road, the market was filled with mostly men, and fresh fruit and vegetables were displayed on sheets or tarps laying on the ground. As I

wandered around the market with my camera, my driver kept an eye on me, making sure I didn’t get myself into trouble. Piles of key limes, onions, and peppers surrounded me. Men were gawking (understandable as I was the only foreigner there), people were talking, and I was feeling excited and alive. This is what I live for, what I travel for – culture.

After a rough start in Colombo I was finally starting to relax and see past the noise, the dirt, and the stares. Maybe Colombo is worth 32

spending time in after all. Maybe I was right to ignore everyone.

On my last day in Colombo I pulled a piece of paper with a number on it out of my bag. It was the number of the driver who had picked me up and taken me to the hotel on my first night. He had offered to take me on a tour, and I was curious as to what he wanted to show me, plus 500 rupees didn’t seem like a lot of money.

I wasn’t disappointed.

With a full bottle of Absolute Vodka in his cup holder, my driver

sped through Colombo, meandering from one temple to another. Our first stop was, Sri Kailawasanathan Swami Devasthanam Kovil, the oldest Hindu temple in Colombo.

I was simply an observer, asking the musicians inside if I could photograph them while checking out the various shrines. In other words I was in stealth mode, trying to be a silent witness and not attract too much attention, which is a comical endeavor between my skin color and chest size. Needless to say, I was

unsuccessful and before we left the temple I had been blessed and given food to eat for my health.

Once I was ready we walked back to the mototaxi and drove to the red and white striped mosque, followed by my favorite temple in Colombo, Sri Ponnambalam Vanesar Kovil, the “granite temple.�

Unlike Sri Kailawasanathan Swami Devasthanam Kovil, at the granite temple I was not permitted to take photographs, so I put my camera away and relied on my sketchy

Love, Hate, and the Desire That Binds by Pamela MacNaughtan

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"The best way to describe the temple is to compare it with the movie Lara Croft, Tomb Raider. Inside the temple was dark, with small windows close to the roof resulting in random beams of light."

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memory, committing as many details to virtual paper as I could with the aid of an iPhone app. The best way to describe the temple is to compare it with the movie Lara Croft, Tomb Raider. Inside the temple was dark, with small windows close to the roof resulting in random beams of light.

The only color in the temple was that of the worshipper’s clothing, and a select number of golden statues. I could have found a corner and people watched all day long. And I would have if I didn’t have a driver in tow.

As it turned out Colombo wasn’t completely awful. There were definitely some redeeming qualities to the city, and when it came time for me to fly back to Thailand I found myself wishing I could stay longer.

But, once again she turned her back on me when I tried to exchange my Sri Lankan rupees at the airport.

I didn’t have receipts from when I withdrew the money, and none of the banks wanted to exchange them into Thai Baht. So, I fought. I played the arrogant tourist card and argued until the men behind the counter became so exasperated that they exchanged my money in an effort to get rid of me.

Needless to say, I have a love hate relationship with Colombo.

I found some wonderful places

to explore and met some friendly locals. But I also found myself getting frustrated by the way locals did business – a rougher version of Thailand. I’ve dreamed of going to India for years, but they say Sri Lanka is like India, yet not as intense. Now I’m not sure if I can handle India.

It’s a shitty thing to admit, but I’m actually nervous. I don’t want to hate it. I want to love it. The same goes for Sri Lanka.

Love, Hate, and the Desire That Binds by Pamela MacNaughtan

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As humans we are not perfect, and having a 100% perfect travel record is an impossible task. The key to having more positive travel experiences is to know yourself and your limits. It’s about making decisions that you are comfortable with, and not allowing yourself to give in to guilt trips by so called hardcore travelers who may paint you as anything but.

Traveling in Asia has taught me that I need to wear a thick skin at times, and that if I wake up feeling overtired, or not myself, then it’s okay to have a ‘me’ day and do things like hang out at the hotel and read

instead of subjecting myself to the possibility of hating the country I’m in by noon. It’s about balance. Every country has something good to offer, and that is what I’m looking for when I travel.

Colombo almost broke me.

I almost changed my flight and returned to Thailand. But I didn’t.

I stayed, and I discovered that there are some beautiful places to explore within the city. When I finally do go to India though, I’ll be thinking about Colombo, and remembering all the tests I faced that helped make me a stronger, more open-minded person.

About the Author: Pamela MacNaughtan

Writer. Blogger. Solo Traveler. Photographer.

Troublemaker. Bacon-addict.

CURRENT LOCATION: Touring Canada / CITIZENSHIP: Canada

In 2010 Pamela left her retail management career to pursue her dream of traveling long term, and hasn’t looked back since. She is attracted to strange, odd, unique, or crazy experiences. Pamela has toured working brothels, travelled from Thailand to China by boat, and driven from Prague, Czech Republic to Ashgabat, Turkmenistan. When Pamela is not writing for MERGE magazine, you can find her adventures on her blog www.savoirfaireabroad.com.

ATLAS

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The calendar of events for September and October were so heavily laden with beer festivals of one sort or another that we decided they deserved their own special section. Keep in mind that Oktoberfest is a worldwide phenomenon these days and local “Oktoberfests� can be found anywhere from Brazil to Vietnam.

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>> photo courtesy of andreas steinhoff

Sept. 5 – 8

Sept. 6 & 7

Irish Craft Beer & Cider Festival

The Great Canadian Beer Festival

Dublin, Ireland

Victoria, BC - Canada

Sept. 6 – 8

Sept. 21 – oct. 6

Brussels Beer Weekend

Oktoberfest (the original)

Brussels, Belgium

Munich, Germany

Sept. 26 – 28 & oct. 3 – 5

stockholm beer & whiskey festival Stockholm, Sweden

oct. 10 – 12

oct. 28 – nov. 2

great american beer festival

norwich beer festival

Denver, CO – USA

Norwich, England – UK For the Beer Lovers

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travel log

Âť Words & photos by nina fussing, wheeling it

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It’s a city like no other. It’s one of the densest in the world with over seven million people crammed into only 426 sq miles (1,104 km²). It’s chock-filled with high-rises, stores, streets, and evening lights so bright you forget there’s such a thing as stars. It’s bustling, crazy crowds that crush you like spawning salmon in the human flow. It’s a potpourri of people from all over the world reveling in high-end shopping and all-night parties. It’s a place no nature-loving Dane in her right mind would ever venture. Or so it might seem.

Lurking beneath the surface Hong Kong is actually something entirely different. It’s unique, artistic, culturally historic, spiritual, a foodies dream and a place where just about anything is possible. There are miles of open hiking trails, parks and even an abundance of wildlife, if you know where to find it. It’s so very different from anywhere else that you’ve really got to live here to “get” it, and once you synch with that heartbeat, it’s hard to leave. Hong Kong is a place where tourists stop to shop and those in the know come to stay.

I’m a Dane by birth, but have been lucky enough to call Asia home twice in my lifetime. I grew up in

Into the Heartbeat of Asia by Nina Fussing

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/// LOCATION Hong Kong is located on China’s south coast & is known for its expansive skyline and deep natural harbor.

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"It’s so very different from anywhere else that you’ve really got to live here to 'get' it, and once you synch with that heartbeat, it’s hard to leave. Hong Kong is a place where tourists stop to shop and those in the know come to stay." the Far East spending my tender teenage high-school years in Hong Kong. Sixteen years later hubby and I got to go back as expats and re-experience the city as “real-life” working adults. Through these two experiences I managed to see many different facets of Hong Kong from the exclusive high-end to local streets and living. It’s this rare diversity that drives the pulse of the city and also creates its lure. As a foreigner you can live as luxuriously as you’d like (almost without limits), but you can also immerse yourself in the local culture, lose yourself in the wilds and live far more cheaply than almost anywhere else.

“Fragrant Harbor” of the Far East was once just a barren rock. The English picked up this insignificant island in 1842 after the first Opium Wars. Eighteen years later they added a piece of the mainland (Kowloon) after the second Opium Wars followed by yet more land

But before I dwell on our experience let me set the stage with a bit of history. Looking at Hong Kong today, it’s hard to believe this Into the Heartbeat of Asia by Nina Fussing

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(the New Territories) on a 99-year lease in 1898. The years thereafter gave Hong Kong a decidedly English flavor which, mixed with the industrious labor of the local Chinese, made it flourish into one of the busiest ports of the world.

In 1997 the whole rich package was handed back to the mainland. In name it became part of Communist China, but it retained its mixed roots.

This was this history we walked into when we moved to Hong Kong in 44

2004 as ambitious young engineers.

We were both working in the semiconductor industry at the time and managed to land expat positions that gave us well-paying jobs as well as a stunning 3,000 sq.ft apartment in the exclusive midlevels area of the Island. From there we entered several years of what I call our “expat� lifestyle. I had a high-flying job in Taiwan which I commuted to each week while Paul covered Asia sales. This meant lots

of time away from home, travelling and working very long hours (easily 12-15 hours per day) intermixed with going out at night and partying hard when we got down-time. It was every young career-aspiring persons dream, and Hong Kong totally delivered on every front.

Despite our excess of fun we saved cash. If there’s one thing which costs moolah in Hong Kong it’s precious space and our snazzy apartment cost close to US$10,000/ month (a crazy amount were it not part of our expat package), but the city makes up for it by providing just about anything else, if you want it, at super-budget costs. Our apartment was a mere 10 minutes from downtown a $HK15 (= ~US$2) cab ride where we could eat ourselves silly with local food for $HK40-$HK120 (a mere ~US$5-15) and party the night away for another $HK80 (~US$10).

That’s not to mention the part-time maid we had who cost us only $HK200 (= ~US$25) a visit. That’s Hong Kong living for you, a total mix of high-end and low budget, if you so choose.

A few years into our Asian experience we underwent a massive life change. The stress of work was taking a dangerous toll on my health

"As a foreigner you can live as luxuriously as you’d like (almost without limits), but you can also immerse yourself in the local culture, lose yourself in the wilds and live far more cheaply than almost anywhere else."

Into the Heartbeat of Asia by Nina Fussing

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and we both, rather spontaneously, decided to quit the regular slog and seek a totally different lifestyle.

Within two days (for rather obvious financial reasons) we moved out of our luxurious high-rise and into a ridiculously small, totally local building for around $HK13,000 (~US$1,670/month) in Causeway Bay. Our apartment had no main room windows, a one-burner kitchen so small the fridge was in the living room, and a stacked view of highrises all around, but it was “cheap” and in an excellent central location.

We became the “gweilo” curiosities,

the only whites in the apartment complex, but it also gave us the opportunity to cut expenses and explore another side of Hong Kong.

Thus started our “local living” experiment.

It was during this phase of my life that I ditched the left side of my brain and got involved in the arts. Hong Kong is, fundamentally, a place of locals and immigrants mixed together in one spot, all looking to make their way. That creates a wonderfully diverse population with an incredibly entrepreneurial spirit.

Nothing is beyond doing in Hong Kong, if you have the guts to try it. You can set up an incorporated company within a day (quite literally) and be in business the next day. You can meet someone online and decide to launch a major project on the spot.

There are so many “visitors” that making connections is effortless and fast.

This is exactly how we spent the next few years in our city. I incorporated and started a food photography company which grew to cover several local events. I met a random guy in a local coffee shop and spent the next 2 years acting, directing and producing theatre

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shows with him. I met another gal and started a Hong Kong photography group that eventually grew to 400 members. I even got involved in local dog rescue (through the Hong Kong Dog Rescue) and connected with yet another friend to do pet sitting services. Paul switched jobs and decided to go back to school getting a Masters in Finance at the University of Hong Kong (for a mere ~US$15,000) and created friendships with local Chinese students that he continues to enjoy today. Just like that we went from high-flying expats to Hong-Kongese

locals, and there too Hong Kong delivered.

We also took this time to explore the lesser-known sides of town. As hard as it is to believe over 70% of this city is undeveloped and wild. There are 234 outlying islands many of which still have an old-time fishing village feel to them (check out Cheung Chau), mountain parks with miles of open hiking trails (go hike Dragon’s Back for a real thighburn) and even the world’s second largest sitting Buddha (Tian Tan Buddha) who is gloriously displayed Into the Heartbeat of Asia by Nina Fussing

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on Lantau Island. In town you can discover local gems in the old alleys from night-time markets (head over to Temple Street for the original experience) to unusual foods (snake soup anyone?), rummage-style shopping where you can buy entire wardrobes for less than US$1 (check out some of the back Wanchai alleys) and glorious flower shows (the annual Lunar New Year Flower Market at Victoria Park is something else).

Our four years in Hong Kong came to an end when we decided to move back state-side and eventually 48

become fulltime RV’ers. Despite the amazing bustle and diversity of the Island we longed for wide open spaces and cleaner air. The latter, the air pollution, reached a peak in 2010 and was possibly the only thing we never abided in the city. Would we do it again?

Absolutely! There are many who come to Hong Kong and never leave and, in many ways, you could say my heart still beats there.

The pulse of this city is in my bones and one day I may very well find myself back there again.

Looking To Move To Hong Kong?

Visa Requirements – If you’re just looking to visit you can enter Hong Kong on a basic tourist visit (typically valid for up to 180 days, depending on citizenship). Those looking to stay or work must either be sponsored on a work visa or bring in enough money to get an investment visa, both of which will also require you to get a Hong Kong ID (easily done in a day at the local Government office). Many foreigners come in as expats or for specific high-demand jobs such as English teachers (check out ESL and Teach Away). Dependents are able to come in on a dependent visa which allows you to live, work and study in Hong Kong (unmarried and gay couples are not eligible). After seven years in Hong Kong you qualify for permanent residency.

Apartment Costs – The one thing that can cost you lots of $$ in Hong Kong is rent. Space is at a premium on this small island and if you’re looking to live in any of the “expat” areas you can easily spend over US$10,000 per month, but

if you’re willing to be flexible and live more locally you can find more reasonable deals. On the main island you can look at older apartments in areas such as Wanchai, Causeway Bay or North Point or seek outside and farther from downtown in areas such as Llama Island, Sai Kung and Kowloon.

Living Costs – Outside of rent, living costs can be very reasonable.

Food, entertainment and clothing can all be as high-end or as cheap as you’d like depending on whether you shop at Gucci or buy the local stuff. We went as local as we could, shopping for veggies at the street market, going to the corner butcher and eating at the local restaurants.

The only thing I had trouble with was finding pants long enough to fit my Danish legs! With some things you just can’t go local.

Transportation

–

Public transportation is excellent and unless you’re living in a really remote area you won’t need anything else.

Between the MTR (underground), buses, ferries, trams and taxis you’ll be able to get anywhere with minimal time and costs. All of the public Hong Kong transportation can be Into the Heartbeat of Asia by Nina Fussing

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accessed with an electronic Octopus card. Just swipe and you’re on!

Health Care – Local hospitals are very good and if you get a HK ID card you’ll be eligible for public healthcare (subsidized) the same as locals. Hong Kong also has several private hospitals which are higher cost, but provide more personalized and (often) faster service. In our case we made use of the public system and found it to be excellent. I also frequented a local Chinese doctor for acupuncture.

an issue. There are active charities such as Clear The Air dedicated to improving this, but in the short term pollution will remain a factor for the city. 

Climate – Hong Kong lies just south of the Tropic Of Cancer and so is considered sub-tropical. Summers are hot and humid, winters cool and generally clear. Air pollution, particularly when prevailing winds come from mainland China can be

About the Author: Nina Fussing Blogger & Photographer at Wheeling It CURRENT LOC.: Oregon Coast, USA / CITIZENSHIP: Denmark

Nina Fussing is a blogger, photographer ATLAS

and all-around nature-lover who lives and

travels fulltime in her 40-foot RV with her hubby and 12 paws. Come join the adventure at http://wheelingit.wordpress.com.

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Simple clean formula, just three ingredients each - base of coconut oil, beeswax and fragrance oil. CLICK THIS AD FOR MORE INFO! WORLDWIDE SHIPPING AVAILABLE

editorial

FIGHT THE FLIGHT How to Avoid Feeling Like the Walking Dead on Your First Week in a New Country » Words BY dr. fORREST BECK, THE ART OF SELFISHNESS

Sometimes when your life is purposefully thrown in upheaval by an international move, it is best to use routines and formulas to ensure you don’t spend the first few weeks lugging your crumpled mass to and fro. This was a challenge that confronted me recently when an opportunity for new growth came knocking from the United Arab Emirates, of all places. However, before my medical expertise utilizing natural health care could be of service to another company, I was going to need it first.

In order to plant ourselves in an apartment in the UAE, we had to close a chapter on life in the Big Rig (our motor home). My family’s life wasn’t exactly rooted anywhere given our full-time travels in the US using our coach. But a move is 52

a move and this one still required all sorts of maneuvering within a compact timetable of my employer’s design.

And so, it got me thinking, “What happens when the lifestyle we have worked hard to create – where we dictate the terms, has to be temporarily suspended?”

As much as we would all like to adopt the mañana attitude, at times it isn’t in the cards. That was certainly the humbling scenario I was facing. So, for those of us who have to be “on” when arriving for business travel or want to head out on a short side trip where every hour counts, this is for you.

If you’re able, the major benefit to spending a decent chunk of time in a new country, (something we strongly support at MERGE Magazine) is that you can afford to slow down when it comes to sightseeing and soaking in the culture. Before we explore what was effective not just for me, but for other patients I’ve advised, let’s hit on what you may want to avoid – novelty.

As alluring as new food, new friends, and new experiences can be, my suggestion is to avoid going out on a limb while transitioning your first week. Let your body have a bit of security with the familiar; similar to how you might bring along certain toys or stuffed animals your child knows in order to make her feel more comfortable. I had to do something constructive so I would be coherent when beginning work ten brutally short hours following touchdown in Abu Dhabi. This ended up being

“For those of us who have to be 'on' when arriving for business travel or want to head out on a short side trip where every hour counts, this is for you."

two parts orchestration and one part listening carefully to my body.

Everyone’s travel circumstances are different, but hopefully you’ll be able to cherry-pick some useful information that will provide a gentler landing instead of a jolting arrival. I know what I’m up against.

The points I’m raising in this article are equivalent to a daily spoonful of cod liver oil – and we all know how most people take to that! So, open your mouth and say ah; this medicine should be a lot easier to swallow.

Fight the Flight 53

What I’m going to try to tackle is the most challenging travel route, heading east. Most people you talk to have little problem going from east to west, but the opposite can really throw us for a loop.

According to a medical seminar on jet lag, differences in recovery whether from east to west or west to east, are largely due to light-dark exposure in the new time zone and circadian rhythm requirements for readjustment.

With that in mind, you can imagine successful country adoption is often dependent on the basics: sleep, hydration, food choices, and minimizing significant stress like losing your passport or getting deported. Let’s tackle them one by one.

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sleep It may sound a bit odd, but depriving yourself of sleep the week prior to travel actually helps a lot.

This may not be a tall order if you are taking off on your first adventure in a while and have packing, trips to the local donation center, garage sales, and the requisite goodbye celebrations, to name a few events still vivid in my mind. Some people may be tempted just to stay up from the time you board a plane until it is nighttime at your destination. The reason why this often fails, is that it’s too big a leap for our bodies to make in one day, rather than the slower adjustment a week offers.

Bring earplugs or the modern day equivalent such as noise cancellation headphones and eye covers. Once the sauna-like conditions prior to takeoff pass, airplanes are generally chilly, which is good for sleep. Just make sure you layer properly for your individual comfort. For example, let’s take the trip I made recently, Portland, OR to Abu Dhabi with a layover in Amsterdam. Pretty wiped out boarding the plane at PDX, I got adjusted and was out within an hour of takeoff. We’re not talking the high comfort that I walked by in first class

either, but it was sleep nonetheless.

After grabbing a bite to eat in Amsterdam and chatting with a new acquaintance, it was time for the second leg. This time I stayed awake watching a few movies that I had no hope of seeing in the theater with a little one. By the time I arrived at my hotel it was 10PM. Because my earlier sleep was suboptimal I was ready for bed. Besides, the next morning was work so I had no choice but to wake early and to continue doing so for the entire workweek.

Water

Notice I didn’t say fluids. While I won’t preach to you here about eliminating or reducing caffeinated beverages including coffee, tea, and colas, if you regularly use these substances it’s best to save them to coincide with your new morning

wherever you are headed. On the plane, water will keep you more hydrated, help you avoid picking up bugs as easily, and if drunk moderately shouldn’t have you queuing up for the loo too frequently. One tip I always give patients when traveling is to add a drop of iodine to their water at least on one occasion for its antimicrobial properties. Plus, it is a great first aid tool to have around as you travel the world.

Alcohol

Some travelers tend to steadily imbibe in the air thinking it will knock them out more easily (often true) or help pass the time. But, it’s a shortterm solution that can not only affect your ability to adjust to a new circadian cycle, but also leave you in less capable hands to deal with new situations. And for me, showing up in the Middle East under the influence could have been enough to throw me right back on another plane at my own expense, or worse. There will be plenty of time for you to unwind with a cold one, just preferably not on the plane. Remember the goal here is to optimize how you function your first week. If you don’t care, then by all means sip away.

Fight the Flight 55

Food

Aside from trying to mimic a normal feeding schedule, there is very little reason to eat nearly the same quantity you are accustomed to while jetting around. For one thing, you will barely be moving (unless you’ve booked a flight on an A380 equipped with a showerspa and lounge) given the cramped quarters so it’s not as if calorie burn is an issue. For another, what is it like to try to sleep when you either don’t react well to a food or overeat?

No fun. It’s bad enough having to use those winged latrines in the first place. It’s hell doing it over and over or spending long periods of time in one.

Don’t think of limiting food intake as deprivation, but instead preparing your palate for new tastes.

There are wonderful foods all over this globe that you are on your way to enjoy. There are also many meals, especially on airplanes, which we have no way of knowing the entire ingredient list or preparation.

Therefore, something that must be addressed in this day and age is food intolerances and sensitivities.

Making sure you have safe

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foods along for the ride pays off in dividends. Also, with quick homework it’s usually easy to identify at least one or two stores in your new destination that you can grab something that is consistent with your regular diet, even if you have sensitivities.

Stress

Stress cannot be avoided, just minimized. A new country, even if we speak the language will inevitably challenge us in various ways. That is hopefully one reason we choose to depart our comfy, maybe mundane lives back in the motherland. A lot of us travelers crave new situations, new smells, new faces, and new sounds. Despite such novelties, stress can be greatly decreased by just a touch of planning to get you there in one piece feeling like yourself.

"A new country, even if we speak the language will inevitably challenge us in various ways.

That is hopefully one reason we choose to depart our comfy, maybe mundane lives back in the motherland."

Your favorite music, catching up on some reading or writing, and breathing exercises all can come in handy during a long trip. When we spend hours in the air, it is nice to feel like something was accomplished on the way, leaving more leisure time when we arrive.

Melatone-it

Melatonin is a hormone that normally rises at night and helps induce drowsiness. It has a very good track record for aiding in circadian rhythm reset. It is one of the most well-researched nutraceuticals in the world with hundreds of scientific articles elaborating its effects.

Fortunately, it is not only quite safe but also inexpensive and prevalent.

If you are just not feeling very tired come bedtime at your new place, then thirty minutes prior to when you want to go to sleep,

take one capsule of melatonin to artificially raise the level in your blood. A general dosage is 0.25 to 0.50 mg per capsule, though some people require much more than that, especially if you are a bigger person.

This is also quite safe in children to use temporarily in just these types of situations. It is a much better alternative to Nyquil and other overthe-counter medications that many parents resort to.

Your first night may not be deep sleep filled, but if you can get five to seven hours of fairly sound sleep you will be ahead of the curve.

In addition, if you can establish a healthy routine these first few days and nights you won’t feel hung-over for a week.

One last tip for sleep is setting an alarm earlier in the morning. Not only will this give you a great taste of daily life in your new home, but it will prevent you from staying in bed Fight the Flight 57

out of habit even if you are tossing and turning. So take a stroll, hit a café, and soak up some good vibes.

Before you know it, you’ll be a fully cognizant and respected citizen in your adopted country.

Motion Intense exercise under perfect circumstances can be seen as a significant stress, let alone when you are adjusting to a new time zone. We do know that professional athletes, who travel great distances to compete, often see decreased grip strength, reduced lung capacity, and an overall lower ability, at least for a period of time.

What does this mean for you?

Take it easy on your body. Stick to low-impact exercise the first week

such as yoga, brisk walking, and some dynamic stretching. Once your body re-learns when it’s time to sleep and wake, then re-engage with your normal regimen. And if you don’t have one, take the opportunity to start something new while your senses are at attention.

Simple Prescription 1. Be a bit sleep deprived for a week before your departure.

2. Time your sleep schedule on the plane to mimic your new time zone.

3. Bring eye cover and earplugs.

4. Drink moderate amount of water, with a touch of iodine.

5. Avoid caffeinated drinks and alcohol.

6. Eat less – just enough to satiate and don’t be adventurous on the plane.

7. Minimize stress by playing relaxing music, reading something enjoyable, or catching up on work.

8. Melatone-it by taking a capsule thirty minutes prior to your new bedtime.

9. Eat foods you’re familiar with and don’t overexert yourself during your first week.

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About the Author: Dr. Forrest Beck, ND Contributing Editor & Author CURRENT LOCATION: Abu Dhabi / Citizenship: USA/Canada

Forrest has had an insatiable wanderlust since ATLAS

spending a college year abroad in Austria and

backpacking around Europe. He tried on a

conventional lifestyle, but couldn’t find one that was comfortable for very long, citing a need for more time with his growing son. A graduate in naturopathic medicine, he owned and operated a family practice in Port Townsend, WA for 8 years before authoring a book titled “Cultivating the Fine Art of Selfishness” and implementing his own advice to the fullest by doing what he loves to do while being of service to others. He has spent the last year road tripping in his motor home with his wife (editor-in-chief at MERGE) and son. He is now working in Abu Dhabi in the UAE as a health advisor where he will travel extensively for work and pleasure.

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Âť Words & photos by hannah loaring, further bound

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/// LOCATION Cambodia is a country located in the southern portion of the Indochina Peninsula in Southeast Asia.

Cambodia by Hannah Loaring

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travel log

The day begins much like any other. We dress, hurriedly bundle our scattered belongings into our daypacks with little care for creases, grab our helmets, and with one quick check under the bed, we are out the door and greeted by our travel companions, Sophia and Russ.

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But today is not like any other.

Today is different, and my heart is heavy with the knowledge that we have come to an ending of sorts: the end of our Cambodian road trip, traversing the countryside on a rusty 125cc Honda with two strangers who have become firm friends.

We first met Sophia and Russ back in Battambang over a month ago. We’d been crossing their path for the past few days, drinking at the same bars, eating at the same restaurants, each time a smile of recognition passed between us.

But it wasn’t until we came face to face as my partner Lee and I made our way out of a tiny cave in the hillside at Wat Banan that we finally exchanged words, and agreed that this serendipitous meeting was surely a sign that we should meet again. And so we did, the very next evening, to share beers and travel stories well into the night, before deciding to write a new one together on a month long adventure across Cambodia by motorbike.

Our journey became official a few days later in the capital city of Phnom Penh. With our oversized backpacks safely stored at our gracious guest house, we packed just a handful of clothes, some basic essentials and our laptops, and with one small bag each, the adventure was ready to begin.

As we steered our bikes across the mighty Mekong River and out of the madness of Phnom Penh, the road quickly turned from the grey of tarmac to the terracotta of

mud, and our humble bikes rattled and groaned with every rock and pothole. Less than an hour out of the city, the inevitable happened – Lee and I broke down. Stuck on the side of this so-called road we cursed our bad luck, our bikes, and each other as we weighed our options.

"As we steered our bikes across the mighty Mekong River and out of the madness of Phnom Penh, the road quickly turned from the grey of tarmac to the terracotta of mud..."

Cambodia by Hannah Loaring

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Just ahead of us stood a shackcome-shop of sorts, and Lee wheeled the bike over while Sophia and I headed inside to ask for help. Though we didn’t hold out much hope of finding a mechanic in this ramshackle little place, we did find the next best thing, and stood somewhat amazed as a sinewy old man in tattered trousers intimated that he could help. Waving his arms, bronzed and muscular from decades of hard work, he managed to explain through 64

limited English and effusive smiles that his friend lived just down the road, and he was a mechanic.

Half an hour and $1 later we were back on the road, overwhelmed by how fortunate our misfortune had turned out to be, and grateful for the kindness we had been shown. The warmth of the sun mingled with our relief, and miles soon passed us by undisturbed.

Later that afternoon we pulled over to rest our increasingly sore muscles, and wait for Sophia and Russ to catch up. A small group of children waved at us with bemused faces from across the road, laughing as we smeared sunscreen over our already dirt-streaked faces and arms, until it more closely resembled war paint.

As we stood in the shade, an impressive old Harley Davidson drove past, adorned with what appeared to be a toy orangutan tied to its handlebars. The driver seemed just as surprised to see us as we were him, and doubled back to greet us. A fellow European, he was tall and rugged, the quintessential biker in a chequered shirt and ragged neck scarf. He had driven from Laos, and was ending his journey in the same place that ours had begun.

Cambodia by Hannah Loaring

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"Fields gave way to orchards, grasslands turned to forest, and wide-open spaces became bustling towns in an instant as the beauty of Cambodia flowed out before us like concentric circles in the rippled grey of the rain-filled rice paddies."

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A short while later Russ and Sophia arrived, having been delayed when the plastic casing had blown off of Sophia’s rather battered helmet - all she was left with was the polystyrene interior, still strapped to her head. In yet another stroke of serendipity, our fellow motorcyclist just happened to have a spare helmet that he had been planning to sell when he reached Phnom Penh. It was almost too good to be true, and after a quick deal on the roadside, we were once again on our way.

We were roughly halfway to our destination that day, the riverside town of Kampong Cham tucked neatly in a bend of the Mekong.

Finally the road turned to tarmac again, and I felt my body relax as we cruised along past vibrant green rice paddies and grazing water buffalo. Fields gave way to orchards, grasslands turned to forest, and wide-open spaces became bustling towns in an instant as the beauty of Cambodia flowed out before us like concentric circles in the rippled grey of the rain-filled rice paddies.

As we pulled into Kampong Cham I was almost disappointed to slide off the bike. We toasted our safe arrival that night on the banks of the Mekong, watching the sunset

as the smell of freshly roasted corn mingled with the warm air. Something else hung in the atmosphere that night, some intoxicating aroma so powerful it stayed with me throughout our journey: the smell of adventure. I could almost see it, twisting on the breeze like the curling tendrils of incense, snaking its way towards us. Everything about our trip so far had been blessed by the magic of serendipity, and as I drew a deep breath, I could almost feel my chest crack open as I let go of my tension and stress, my fears and reservations, and gave way to the countless possibilities that awaited us.

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"I could almost feel my chest crack open as I let go of my tension and stress, my fears and reservations, and gave way to the countless possibilities that awaited us."

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Over the next four weeks our journey took us north from Kampong Cham to Kratie, where we watched as Irrawaddy River dolphins played, and ate our weight in Khmer curry in our favourite little restaurant. We swapped our motorbikes for bicycles for the day, slowly pedalling the 9 km circumference of Koh Trong Island, revelling in the ability to move our limbs for a change, and chasing the

chickens as they zig-zagged across our path.

From Kratie we drove east to the foothills of Mondulkiri, where the greens turned even greener, and jungle covered hills rose up from the carefully tended fields of rice and corn. We picked our way slowly along the unpaved and narrow roads, until monsoon rains transformed them into a river of mud, and we were forced to turn back, deciding instead to head south to the coastal towns of Kep, Kampot, Sihanoukville, Koh Kong, and the islands that lay beyond.

But Cambodia had other ideas, and once again our plans to explore the more remote provinces and islands were thwarted by the rains.

Instead of feeling disappointed, I relished the chance to experience Cambodia in all of her beauty and cruelty, and took delight in the familiarity of the petrichor, and the way the air changed with every hill crested or corner rounded. I began to see things differently, finding joy in every detail and sense - watching the raindrops collect and gain speed as they cruised down the surface of my helmet visor, or the tension in Lee’s body as his determination grew

with every difficult road. I wished my eyes could take photographs as we sped past countless fragments of beauty, instead willing my mind to hold on to them, filing them away with every blink of my eyelids.

That’s what Cambodia has become to me over the past four weeks, a sensory practice in letting go and appreciating every wrong turn, flat tyre and rainstorm. I have learnt patience and perspective, and developed a trust that everything will work out. Though our road trip has been far from what we planned, it has taught me not to limit myself with this mindset, trapped by my own expectations.

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"Cambodia is a country filled with beauty and grace, kindness and humility, and an indomitable spirit that runs deeper than even the harshest wounds of her past."

And so I climb back on our bike for the last time, one final day of driving ahead of us from the coast of Koh Kong back to Phnom Penh.

We take our time, savoring each mile as it slips away beneath us. I feel as though I could just stay here forever, my arms wrapped loosely around Lee, my face turned towards the unknown. Storm clouds hang heavy in the sky above us, and as we head into the last rainstorm of our journey it almost feels like a cleansing of sorts, shifting the dust of all that has passed, washing the road clean for new adventures ahead.

Cambodia is a country filled with beauty and grace, kindness and humility, and an indomitable spirit that runs deeper than even the harshest wounds of her past. The spirit of this remarkable country is unbreakable, an irrefutable resilience and strength I now find fragments of within myself, ingrained amongst the grit and dirt. We didn’t arrive here looking for a journey of this kind, but as has been the common thread of our entire time here, Cambodia has given us just what we needed - all we had to do was remain open to the possibilities. 

About the Author: Hannah Loaring Graphic/Web Designer & Writer at Further Bound CURRENT LOCATION: Indonesia / CITIZENSHIP: UK

ATLAS

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A writer, designer and truth seeker, Hannah paid off her debt, sold everything she owned, and can now be found slowly living and working her way around the world.

Cambodia by Hannah Loaring

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Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire:

the uae paradox Âť Words & photos by nicole beck, editor-in-chief of merge magazine

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/// LOCATION

>> map courtesy of discover asia

It was 108°F (42°C) the day we left Phoenix, with no mentionable humidity. Presenting exposed skin to the elements resulted in an immediate stinging and burning sensation that we had learned to avoid. Knowing this, we wondered how we would manage the 120°F+ (48°C+) temps with over 60% humidity we were destined for.

Traveling north on a final road trip in the motor home to see most of our friends and family, we hesitantly embarked on the cynically named “de-acclimation

Abu Dhabi is the capital & the 2nd largest desert city (in terms of population) of the United Arab Emirates.

trip.” For a couple weeks in Portland, OR, the summer’s high temps reached only half of what we were about to experience.

Along the way, in the midst of talking and planning, I turned to my husband and said, “If we had a daughter instead of a son, would we be doing this?”

The promptness of his reply confirmed my own fear, “No, I don’t think so.” And then in what seemed like an instant, we were boarding the plane for Abu Dhabi, in the United Arab Emirates.

The UAE Paradox by Nicole Beck

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>> photo by dcubillas

travel log

An American’s First

Ramadan

We were told repeatedly that we would arrive during Ramadan, the annual Islamic holiday lasting for one month. The only word, which was used repeatedly and by multiple people to describe the timing of our arrival, was interesting. “It will be very interesting, as you will arrive during Ramadan” we heard over and over again. What did this mean??? I must admit that as open-minded as I think I am, the word Ramadan had a negative connotation in my mind, yet I can’t place the actual source of this feeling. This phenomenon of unjustified judgment speaks volumes to the reasons why I travel for my young son’s education, as much as my own.

My need to research and mentally prepare was thwarted by the abbreviated timeframe available to pack our lives into a storage unit (again) and move to the other side of the world.

We figured we’d get right to the bottom of this Ramadan business soon enough.

Honestly, I had gathered enough to know that Ramadan was a celebration. I reasoned that Christmas is really about a month long too, and assumed they

were probably similar in nature. Going to a new place – we might as well see it in all its mysteriousness and glory. Let’s just say that A did not equal C…

My concerns were heightened as my husband’s new company sent informational brochures for us to read in hopes we wouldn’t accidentally be detained, reprimanded, or deported within hours of arrival for breaking one of many specific laws that exists only during Ramadan.

In the U.A.E. restrictions are placed on everyone during Ramadan, regardless of your own religious beliefs.

For adults who are not suffering from an illness, pregnant, breastfeeding, traveling, or other mitigating factors, this means that you fast from sunrise to sunset – a complete abstention from nearly everything (including food, smoking, music, sexual relations, and cursing). Despite the temperatures and loss of hydration via sweat, you are prohibited from even taking a drink of water (in public anyway). Even work is abbreviated by a couple hours each day for the month.

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The purpose of the abstention is twofold: first as an act of purification, but secondly it brings an awareness of the fortunes enjoyed regularly in a Muslim’s own life. Ramadan is a very charitable time and abstaining from simple pleasures that can be taken for granted puts the focus on those less fortunate and increases giving and kindness.

During our first couple weeks, I 76

was confused by the size of the city, the infrastructure available, and the quantity of malls and shopping areas.

The city was practically empty, and even on a trip to Dubai, I felt like I had the largest mall in the world to myself, and that was only one of sixtyfive across the city. It was like a scifi movie where the city’s population had been decimated by an unknown contagion. When I inquired about this

to a Muslim woman working in Pottery Barn, she explained one of the goals during Ramadan is for Muslims to read the entire Quran. So, in addition to the regular prayers throughout the day, Muslims also spend a lot of time at home reading and enjoying time with family.

At sundown, the daily fast is broken with the “Iftar.” These large meals are often enjoyed at home with family.

Restaurateurs also work to capitalize on lost income from being shut down for most of the day and offer spectacular buffet experiences reminiscent of Las Vegas. We were invited to one such event for my husband’s work, and I have never tried so many new foods and drinks in one sitting. With the enormous population of Indian, Pakistani, and Filipino laborers, the buffet was an overwhelming blend of ethnic foods that I wished I had a culinary sleuth on hand to decipher.

The dates for Ramadan and Eid al-Fitr (generally called “Eid”) change annually and cannot even be determined early, as they are based on sightings of the first tiny sliver of crescent moon that appears after a new moon. Each year, the dates for Ramadan can vary by geographical region, occluding weather, and angle of the moon for visibility. This year, we were celebrating a third birthday of one of

our new friend’s daughter, when around 8pm, everyone started receiving text messages announcing that Eid would in fact begin the following day, and no one would have to go to work. It’s that short of notice. Additionally, Islam uses a lunar calendar so each year, Ramadan moves back by about eleven days. This phenomenon means that over time, Ramadan is celebrated throughout the seasons with a strong connection to the natural world at its foundation.

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"Now that Ramadan has ended, people are everywhere all the time.

It is so strange to go to these gigantic, yet previously empty malls to find them absolutely packed with people."

Eid

My son has decided that Eid is just as awesome as Christmas. Here, the Muslim men carry handfuls of small denomination bills to give children for Eid, which lasts for three days (again, this is a regional preference, but in the U.A.E., it is three days long). Clearly not Muslim, Paden was no exception to these kindnesses. Whether in an elevator or a restaurant, we were approached by men who wished him “Eid Mubarak” and handed him anywhere from 10 to 30 dirhams (about $3 – $8 USD).

Now that Ramadan has ended, people are everywhere all the time. It is so strange to go to these gigantic, yet previously empty malls to find them absolutely packed with people.

The multi-lane arteries that feed cities 78

are now pumping with energy and cheap hydrocarbons. I realize now that the timing of our arrival was indeed interesting, but also fortuitous. The calm during Ramadan allowed us a very peaceful introduction to an incredibly busy city.

You’re Moving Where?

Toni White of Reclaiming my Future recently asked on Facebook - “Is there a country you never want to visit?

Why?” According to popular opinion, I am now living in the middle of the most inhospitable area of the world, and looking at a map, I absolutely agree.

This weekend we will drive to Oman for a visa run, and later for a visit, but other than that, my immediate neighbors do not offer enough safety and allure for me to visit, especially with my 5 year

old son. The U.A.E. is an oasis in the ill-named “axis of evil” with a daunting and oppressive KSA (Kingdom of Saudi Arabia) border surrounding most of the country.

The need for new experiences is an addiction I’m afraid. And while I have never understood the risks taken by socalled “adrenaline junkies,” similarly, my insatiable craving for new foods, people, cultures, sites, and experiences leaves many dumbfounded. In the few weeks here, I have stopped dead in my tracks at the sites of hearts, brains, testicles, kidneys, and other unidentifiable organs for sale in the grocery, just like chicken breasts in the States. I have enjoyed traveling the freeways legally at 120-140 km/hr and illegally at 20 more (up to 99 MPH), knowing that the cameras won’t trigger and the police don’t bother. I have relished the astounding economy here, as buildings can’t be erected fast enough, storefronts are filled with businesses, and there are no beggars on the street corners. I have had my mind blown by the ingenuity of the UAE; from their ability to simply create more land wherever it is needed, to the architectural marvels, record-breaking amusement parks, entertainment outlets, and their incredible infrastructure to maintain it all. In four weeks I have only been held

up in traffic twice.

Despite the intense consumerism in the U.A.E., whether in the form of clothing or electricity, there is a movement by the government to bring awareness to the residents about sustainability, resource conservation, and environmental education. From the protection of sea turtles and mangroves, to the technological development and education that will eventually offer a sustainable economic future for the UAE after the country’s oil deposits The UAE Paradox by Nicole Beck

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"The U.A.E. obviously doesn’t have the financial problems that my home country and many others suffer from, and from the outside, they really do seem to flaunt it." are depleted. The “Eco-Future” exhibit, while geared for children, was interesting and educational enough to hold my interest given my background in environmental science.

Despite being surrounded by drone attacks in Yemen, civil unrest in Egypt, and the horrors that continue in Syria and Iraq, I feel like I am living in a place that isn’t “broken” for the first time….ever. The U.A.E. obviously doesn’t have the financial problems that my home country and many others suffer from, and from the outside, they really do seem to flaunt it. But now immersed in this world, I am witnessing the importance of civil rights for laborers and environmental initiatives for resources.

I see strong criticism of foreign

companies who open shop yet don’t offer as much innovation or as many intellectual jobs as expected. I see a country desperately working to make every decision, the best decision for their future, and it is a welcome sight.

“We cherish our environment because it is an integral part of our country, our history and our heritage.

On land and in the sea, our forefathers lived and survived in this environment.

They were able to do so only because they recognised the need to conserve it, to take from it only what they needed to live, and to preserve it for succeeding generations.” — Sheikh Zayed Bin Sultan Al Nahyan

An Independent Woman in the Most Conservative Part of the World I have said many times that I think the most important characteristic you must either have or develop if you want to travel full-time is flexibility. No matter how great a planner, researcher, fortune-finder, or soothsayer you are – things invariably go “wrong” while you travel and you must let go, or at least adjust your paradigm.

Realizing that you will encounter

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"The thought of embracing someone’s religious customs, because here they are the same as cultural customs, was not something I could easily reconcile.” situations where you have no control might be the scariest aspect of perpetual travel for some people. If you are tired of being called a “control freak” or exhausted with the micro-management of every aspect of your life, then this lifestyle could be the ultimate therapy.

As a person, I entered this country knowing that I may be treated as a lesser person because of my sex and beliefs. While excited for a new adventure, I did grieve quietly to myself one evening before coming.

The thought of embracing someone’s religious customs, because here they are the same as cultural customs was not something I could easily reconcile.

Dressing differently than I typically would in hot weather, remembering when I meet a man, to refrain from the confident extension of a handshake, unless it is offered first in my direction.

Being mindful not to sit down next to 82

a man at a social event, should it be mistaken for something other than sitting. These seemingly small daily occurrences were huge to me. All concessions that I was hesitant to make given my upbringing in the U.S.

But, my flexibility has saved me.

I have let go of my judgments about another culture’s lifestyle and embraced my new life as an independent woman in the most conservative part of the world. I feel no less powerful or respected than before, and know that because I am willing to show the proper respect here, it flows back in my direction in honor of my willingness to compromise.

In hindsight, my thoughts about bringing a daughter here were wrong, at least for me. I was concerned that any child, but especially a girl, growing up here would be under the impression that a woman’s body was shameful or that women are somehow lesser people than men. Instead, a foreign child would learn that different cultures have different customs to be learned about and understood rather than judged.

And that a woman in an abaya and niqāb is no different than a woman in jeans and a t-shirt. She takes her children on the bumper cars and to the beach, she goes to work, she laughs, and she loves her family. Being here and seeing the

Islamic culture in context has been so wonderful, and apparently healing.

We moved here for the full package – the opportunity to immerse ourselves in a new, very different and misunderstood culture. A culture that likely doesn’t deserve the connotation it has developed via media in the United States. We did it to see more of this amazing world and to have new and different opportunities. We definitely did it for the opportunity to meet more like-minded people, who also realize the grass may be greener. We did it because we believe the only way to come to peaceful solutions in this world is to be more culturally educated, compassionate, and understanding of

each other as a world without borders, not as a nation behind a flag, a cross, or any other divisive symbol.

My life here will be very different.

But, if you read this magazine, you know that different can mean many things and should be acknowledged simply as that, nothing more or less.

We have committed to stay for at least one year, at which time I am curious if we will be eager to leave or content to stay. Only time will tell as we relish the seasonal changes and experience cooler months we are told are so delightful.

Regardless, I will certainly look back on our time here as one of many very unique, enriching, and educational experiences. 

About the Author: Nicole Beck Founder and Editor-in-Chief of MERGE Magazine CURRENT LOCATION: Abu Dhabi, UAE / CITIZENSHIP: USA

Nicole LOVES traveling and used to struggle to ATLAS

reconcile her passion with the two week

vacation allotment of standard employment.

She has had careers in environmental science, project & small business management and motherhood. Experience from these past lives helped her create MERGE Magazine; a collection of exclusive experience-based features, which she now runs on location. In addition to mothering and road schooling her son, she enjoys writing, so in addition to working with the writers, designers, and advertisers at MERGE, she will include a little something in each issue. Send her your thoughts at nicole@ merge-mag.com.

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>> photo by piotr menducki

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This Issue’s Question:

What is the strangest animal encounter you’ve ever had?

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I was backpacking through Ethiopia when I heard a rumour about ‘wild’ hyenas in Harar, the oldest Islamic city in Africa. Apparently one family had been feeding these wild animals for a few generations so now the hyenas ran around the city after sunset, darting from dark corner to dark corner howling until the family would show up with some juicy red meat.

Straight on the bus I went, 14 hours later I was in Harar, desperately seeking this family. A few street kids helped me find the right area. It was dusk and what I thought were wild dogs were beginning to appear. It was getting dark so I couldn’t really make them out, but as one brushed up beside me, it was no dog. The hyenas were here. A few more winding corners later I saw the gentlemen out to feed the hyenas. There seemed to be about 5 but when I forgot to turn off my flash as I took a photo, the real number was unveiled. Dozens of eyes lit up reflecting my flash. This was some scary stuff.

The guy beckoned me over, and showing off, he stuck some red meat on a stick, and proceeded to put the stick in his mouth. One large

hyena crept forward slowly and then in an instant aggressively snatched the meat (and stick) from the man’s mouth! Bloody hell!

Before too long, peer pressure had me on my knees with a stick and red meat in my mouth. 2 hyenas crept forward; a little bit of a scuffle broke up between them. The larger one was victorious and he walked straight up to me and snatched the meat. I was terrified. But I did it. Within 15 minutes I was back in my guesthouse vowing never to try that again!

Johnny Ward OneStep4Ward.com

What in the World Did You Say?

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On my first safari drive in Kruger National Park, South Africa, we saw a massive bull elephant feeding in the trees about 75 feet away. Slowly he came closer to get a better look at us – 60 feet, 50 feet, 40 feet, 30 feet – until at last he stood no more than 15 feet from my side of the vehicle.

In awe, I stopped photographing, and he lifted his trunk in my direction as if to sniff out my intentions. After a moment, he turned and walked over to the nearest tree, bending it to the ground as if it were a mere matchstick.

He was clearly showing off: “Do you see what I could’ve done to you?”

I wept with joy.

Bret Love GreenGlobalTravel.com

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Diving with Oceanic Black Tip Sharks in South Africa! They were so curious and would come straight at me, before gracefully swimming right past. It is an incredible feeling to co-exist with one of the most misunderstood creatures on the planet. The only time they got a little too curious for my liking was when I was at the surface taking off my equipment. One was so close, that I hit it with my arm as I was taking off my fin. I guess sharks don’t have the same idea about personal space as I do!

Laurel Robbins MonkeysAndMountains.com

My travel companion’s sister happened to be working at a private game reserve in South Africa while we were travelling through the country in 2008, and we were lucky enough to be able to stay onsite there with her for a few days. One evening as the sun went down, we were invited to jump into one of the work jeeps and join an impromptu game drive. Awesome! We spotted plenty of wildlife in the fading light, and then started tracking the real quarry for the night – leopards. They are one of the few animals that really scare me, but there’s no way I was turning down an opportunity to see one up close and personal.

Armed only with a red-filtered spotlight, we eventually spotted a pair of eyes at the end of the dirt track and quickly pulled off the road.

Unfortunately we stopped right in front of a small tree – going forward in a hurry wasn’t an option. Damn.

The jeep we were in had no canopy – ideal when it came to views, less ideal when it came to convincing a leopard not to jump inside. As the big male padded closer, we all stopped moving. I’m pretty sure we even stopped breathing as he came alongside the jeep, almost within touching distance.

And then he stopped, and sniffed, and looked directly at us.

When an experienced leopard researcher says ‘oh shit’ from the front seat, it’s perhaps time to get a little concerned.

After what seemed like a week, but was probably only about 20 seconds, our feline friend carried on wandering down the track and into the undergrowth and we all let out huge sighs of relief. “I’ve never seen a leopard do that”, was the comment. Oh good, that’s a relief then.

We found out the next morning why that big cat was so interested in us. The jeep we had been in had been used to cart an impala carcass around earlier that day, and half of it was still sitting in the back of the vehicle. Yes, that’s right, we’d been carrying around a fresh kill all night in an open top jeep, and waving it under the nose of a hungry leopard from a few metres away.

Quite frankly, I am astonished we didn’t become a statistic that night.

I have absolutely no idea how.

Dave Dean WhatsDaveDoing.com

What in the World Did You Say?

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I was in Borneo searching for the country’s elusive pygmy elephants on the Kinabatangan River to photograph them for the local tourism board. On the second to the last day, my guide spotted some on the riverbank as we passed in a boat. We pulled over and climbed on to the bank, but it was difficult to photograph the elephants. We couldn’t move closer than about 40 feet because it would anger the elephants and there was too much foliage to get a clear shot. To make things worse passing boats of wildlife seekers spotted us and came ashore to see what we were looking at. All of the people made the elephants irate and they ran off into the bush.

My guide grabbed me. “Quickly,” he

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said pulling me to the boat. He pulled the boat around and approached the shore about 100 yards downstream as the elephants emerged from the jungle. On land, pygmy elephants have a natural boundary of about 40 feet, but, when separated from a person by the natural boundary of the water, they will allow people to come very close. Thorpe brought the boat closer and closer until I could nearly touch the face of the closest elephant. We were so close I took this photo of his eye without even zooming the camera.

Matt Gibson Matt-Gibson.com

Australia is well known for its animals; especially the ones that want to kill you. But the ones that often live along side humans, the poisonous snakes and spiders, are hard to spot. So it’s not surprising that I was in Australia for about 6 months before I had my first poisonous snake encounter.

We were walking down a short little track near a lighthouse on Kangaroo Island. We were only 20 meters away from the car park on a blistery, cool, windy day. I’m surprised I heard the hissing over the howling of the wind rushing past my ears, but luckily I did. The black-bellied tiger snake, both aggressive and very poisonous had crossed our path, only a meter away from our unsuspecting feet. It reared up, staring us down.

And what did we do? We very bravely ran away of course… but not before snapping a pic (from a distance).

Jade Johnston OurOyster.com

Several days into our six day safari in South Luangwa National Park in Zambia we noticed that a hippo hadn’t moved all day. As the day wound to a close and we began our night safari we realized that it was extremely ill and immobile.

Regardless the reason, the end result was the same – an exhausted and sun-burned hippo stranded inland as night fell. I had always wondered how nature photographers were able to watch nature unfold without doing something. Little did I realize that I’d end up getting a first hand lesson about the harsh realities of the circle of life.

As we ended our night safari, we swung back by the hippo to see if it had drawn any large predators. It turned out that it had in the form of a large male leopard. As we arrived the leopard was just finishing feeding on the hippo. Apparently we were not the only ones who had been keeping an eye on the poor beast. Given hippo’s massive teeth and incredibly thick hide they are the M1 Abrams of the natural world and ordinarily to be feared and avoided. For the leopard to approach the hippo and successfully

What in the World Did You Say?

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pierce its thick hide, it would have had to attack from either the throat or the rectum - normally a risky proposition that the leopard wouldn’t dare consider. So, we expected that this meant that the hippo had died of exhaustion during the day. Shortly after we arrived, however, we realized that, to our horror, the hippo was still very much alive. Satiated the leopard laid down and began cleaning himself several feet away as several hyena moved in and began to feed. The hyena attacked the hippo just below its tail and tore into the tender flesh slowly opening an increasingly large hole. The hippo showed minimal signs of distress, though it would periodically rise to its front feet in response to the hyena’s tearing and tugging before collapsing back to the ground. It was truly tragic and heart breaking.

Sitting there, you know you cannot or should not intervene. At

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the same time, you can’t help but wonder if it would really make that big a difference for the guide to just shoot the hippo and then let the process resume. It’s a brutal quandary and it left us all heart broken, torn, on the cusp of tears, but also very grateful for the not-sogentle reminder that nature is not all beauty and cute moments. It’s a dirty truth that everyone secretly hopes to see a kill as part of their safari experience. You just always hope it is clean and quick. Over the following three days we watched the natural process continue as the corpse fed hundreds of animals. I expected it to stink by the following afternoon but within a day and a half all that remained was a flesh-less skull and thick spinal column. It was a powerful reminder that nothing is wasted and that nature is profoundly efficient. It was one of the most powerful natural experiences I’ve ever had and still sends chills down my spine when I think about it more than a year later.

Alex Berger VirtualWayfarer.com

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Escaping Kyrgyzstan’s ‘OTEL from Hell on Horseback — Part One » Words & photos by Jacob Moss, upickapath

I stood before the shackled door below a neon sign reading OTEL. Somebody had stolen the H it seemed.

A feeling of unease had groped me since arriving in Kochkor off that windowless minivan – the kind of unease a traveller feels when they arrive in an unknown place with the night at their back. Their rucksack is heavier; their senses flicker on like street lamps as they feel a vulnerability that can only be shaken by checking into a room, a place to shed their belongings, to gather themselves – a home base.

These emotions are familiar to the kind of traveller who doesn’t plan, yet fumbles; who reads a map, rather 92

than a guidebook or a brochure; who travels in countries that his government recommends only travelling to if absolutely necessary.

Travelling is always necessary.

Exercise a high degree of caution in the Republic of Kyrgyz was the advice given by the Australian government’s Smart Traveller website. While such advice would deter many, it only plays into temptation’s hands for a traveller guided by curiosity. It’s like mother saying don’t play with the snakes in the creek across the road.

What if there weren’t any beds around? A prospect I turned over in my head while kicking the dust and shaking the melodramatic padlock

/// LOCATION Kyrgyzstan is a mountainous and land-locked country located in Central Asia

travel log the doors to - what I had been told – was the only hotel in town.

Just as I turned to walk away I was met by a frazzled and frayedhaired woman running towards me – “yes, open, we are open,” she said, fumbling with a fistful of keys. The key matching the industrial lock was unusually small and the sound of the chain coming off the door was unusually soothing – Relief.

I indicated to her the universal sign for a bed by leaning my head on my hands clasped together. I realised I was signalling the obvious in a ridiculous manner. She nodded excitedly, nevertheless.

This did however seem to inspire a splurge of sign language to come from the tiny round-faced woman who held a permanent frown.

I stepped inside the door and asked her how much in Russian – the language still more widely spoken than the local Kyrgyz language in this outstation of the old soviet empire – “Skol’ko eto stoit?”

She snatched my hand and wrote $2.50 on it - Prices are often quoted in US dollars in the ex-Russian colony of Kyrgyzstan.

She threw my hand down by my side and pointed to the ceiling, while shaking her head, explaining 94

something to me in Russian. I joined her in the shaking of heads, clueless to what she was saying. It was not until she handed me a candle that I realised she was pointing at the light bulb and explaining to me the unique amenities at the OTEL: No electricity. She then began another round of pantomime and I felt like we were playing charades as I tried to guess the meaning. She pointed to the bottle of water poking out of the side of my bag and shook her finger at me: No water. I nodded in understanding. She then flung her arm up in the air and began to rub her armpit – then shook her finger: No showers. She grabbed my hand

I looked back down the foyer to the dimming light of the street outside and mimed my decision in the shrug of my shoulders.

and pulled me along the corridor to a door leading to a back garden. She pointed to a corner of the garden, squatted and feigned a look of exerted constipation and I guessed this one right away: toilet’s a hole in the ground out back. I looked back down the foyer to the dimming light of the street outside and mimed my decision in the shrug of my shoulders.

Two oblong dark patches stood where the room’s numbers once had been on its door. I noted a hint of a smirk momentarily altering her

permanent frown as she located the right key amongst the fistful, jammed it in the keyhole and gave the door a mighty kick. Dust jumped and swirled before resettling itself as if we had disturbed it from slumber when the door swung open. The room consisted of an old wooden wardrobe, a bed that sagged into the middle like an old soggy sandwich, with a coat stand thrown on it. She lifted the coat stand and put it into the corner of the room, put a candle and a roll of toilet paper on the bed

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side table and clapped her hands as if to say voilà, good as new; But instead all she said was – money.

Kochkor, located at Kyrgyzstan’s bellybutton, is the launching pad for horse treks setting out to the snow-capped peak encircled Song Kul Lake, in the country’s northern Naryn Province. But business has not been good since civil unrest erupted between the ethnic groups that make up the country in 2010. The tension is still latent in the country, yet lulled for now. However the tourists, even the rich Russians who were renowned for coming for their wellness weekends, are hesitant to return.

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I was swarmed by suspicious glances as I returned to the street.

Every set of eyes were on me. It’s not the glances that unsettled me but how their beholders behaved like shadows. Their looks were piercing as if they were coming at me through a spyhole. It could have been merely their curiosity in a foreigner but my mind had already jumped to its own, more sinister conclusions. Wind had worked away at the onlookers faces and made them look exhausted. The whole place gave me the jeepers.

My plan was to eat a quick meal in what looked like somebody’s dining room, yet had a sign claiming

to be a restaurant out front. The streets were completely black save for a few lonely street lamps and my flashlight that bounced across the road as I walked.

I sat in the empty restaurant, rolling a piece of grisly mutton around my mouth, a typical part of the subsistence diet of horse milk, fatty meats and bread of the once nomadic Kyrgyz people. I felt an uncomfortable indigestion rising within me – and it had nothing to do with the food. I have always felt invincible as a traveller. Naively so.

I had always cut those people short that harped on about certain places

being dangerous as if they were located at the end of the world. My response was always that if you travel informed, respectfully and walked around a place like a local, you could avoid harm in any place – within reason of course. My Australian passport had always felt like what the all-seeing eye is for the Islamic faithful, like the horned hand for Italians, the honourable surrogate penis statue for the Thais – it was my charm protecting me against all evil. Such naïve credence is somewhat needed in a traveller – it’s made of the same stuff that allows people to leap from tall

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mountains with nothing but planks of wood strapped to their feet and a couple of sticks in their hands for good measure. However, here I was, picking strings of meat fat from my teeth with a toothpick, betraying for the first time that sense of invincibility; for the first time coming to the realisation which no traveller should ever come to – that that’s all just a load of bullshit.

No matter how much I tried to convince myself that this whole thing was just a concoction, a situation where a thought had been let loose, running through the streets of my cranium screaming terror – I couldn’t shake it. Picking stubborn thoughts out with a toothpick isn’t as easy as six-week-old meat.

The premonitions playing out in my head forced me out of that restaurant and to scurry on back to my room. Upon arrival another realisation came to me – Don’t eat what looks like six-week-old meat when your only access to a toilet is a mucky pit in the corner of a garden. Another premonition appeared – complete darkness, torch, pit of poo, renowned reputation for being uncoordinated.

Back in my room I lit my candle, pushed my side cupboard up against my door, jammed the metal coat stand between the door and the foot of the 98

bed and decided to read – an attempt to convince myself of another reality which was far removed from how I currently perceived mine.

I read of James Goodwin’s hike through Eastern Europe to Istanbul – On Foot to the Golden Horn. He wrote, “We walked, just as people always had.” This reminded me of why I had come here – to ride a horse, as people always had. It fascinates me how a traveller’s mode of transport influences their

Here, in the fence-less land of nomads, I wanted to see this world from astride a horse.

vantage point of perceiving the worlds in which they travel. Here, in the fence-less land of nomads, I wanted to see this world from astride a horse. These thoughts kept taking me to the edge of sleep, yet were pulled back by voices coming from the street and the increasing sounds coming from the hallway and other rooms.

The influx of guests seemed to intensify more as the night went on and the sounds coming from the rooms could only be recognised as the squeals, grunts and panting of human limbs working their way into each other.

I now realised what I had checked myself into.

No matter how forceful your thoughts are, your body’s exhaustion will always wear down their will. I finally dozed off at around 1am to a carousel of thoughts: escaping this place on horseback, what kind of creature makes as ridiculous sounds as humans do when mating, and how many candles were lit in the world at that very moment.

I was startled awake a few hours later: Feet shuffling in front of my door…

The clanking of metal in the lock…

The light of a torch creeping under my door, moving back and forth…

Somebody was trying to get into my room.

Panic is not an initial reaction. It doesn’t strike like a match, yet rather sweeps over you like a bushfire.

With a leap, in one single movement I was out of bed, with my Swiss Army Knife – which comes under the calibre of “elegant pocket tools” – and my back against the door. The crash of my landing was met with silence on the other side of the door and the flashlight went out. I stood their contemplating what I would do if the person was to get in. How vulnerable I was in

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such a situation, in such a country where the police were more likely to side with whoever is on the other side of my door, rather than me.

Five minutes passed.

Silence.

Not a footstep.

Not a voice.

I couldn’t even hear breathing, not even my own and it may have been the case that I had held my breath for the entirety of those five minutes.

Until I finally heard the sound of descending steps on the stairs.

I didn’t sleep another wink that night, yet stood guard with Goodwin’s words – “Travellers journeyed for the same reason pilgrims did: to improve their chances and to steal a march on death.” – and with my elegant pocket knife, I awaited dawn.

When daylight came through the yellow, musty curtain it must have been the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I slung my rucksack on my back and made my way out onto the street. Children were chasing each other in front of the hotel and their mothers, who stood watching from the brick blank-faced houses smiled and waved to me as soon as they caught my eye. I smiled and waved back.

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Shrunken market stalls are huddled together along the street, every one selling the same stuff – mutton skewers or the typical flat bread found in much of Central Asia (looks like a pizza base and could be used as a fine Frisbee) – is being handed out through their tiny windows.

Each stall’s veneer works its way up to a gabled peak, while their roofs are simply a few pieces of tin thrown over the top. They look as if they’ve been made with LEGO bricks, squatting like their owners sitting on children’s chairs in front of them.

Majestic mountains that looked as if the low clouds had stained their peaks white surrounded the town. I had not noticed them when I arrived the night before. The crystal air felt sweet to inhale and filled me with the morning’s sense of a new day. My rucksack was light and the prospect that soon I would be astride a horse, seeing this world from a whole different vantage point, was before me.

•

This is the first installment to a two-part story. The second installment will be published in the next edition of MERGE.

About the Author: Jacob Moss

Journalist. Solo Traveler. Writer at UPickAPath.

CURRENT LOCATION: Greece / CITIZENSHIP: Australia

Jacob Moss is a journalist with a curiosity for travel.

ATLAS His journalism is the kind that is part of the newly minted multimedia breed, yet one that still believes in the pillars of old fashioned quality reporting and feature writing. He specializes in the areas of travel, politics, society, culture and the obscure and is fascinated by the interaction of different societies, their dwellers and the issues each face. Jacob is the founder of UPickAPath, a unique, interactive website where he haphazardly allows his readers to decide the steps in his next adventure, and often, his fate.

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