I’ve been home for nearly a week while Eaman backpacks through Iran, but before we parted ways, we had a long conversation about this past year, what we’ve learned, what we would’ve done differently and what everything has meant to us. We’ve had these dialogues pretty often and usually spontaneously throughout our travels, but this was the first time that we could step back and really mull over all the time spent together.

So what did we learn?

The day we departed back in September 2011 on the left and the day we ended the trip together just a week ago on the right. Tried to get the exact same pose. Mixed results, but the same clothes!

Well, we learned that picking up a little of the local language can go a long way, that some touristy sites are still magnificent, that you should never eat the raw cheese at Cusco’s San Pedro market, that renting an apartment instead of a hotel room is such a fun and different way to see a city, that Argentinean steak is really that good, that Patagonia might just be the most beautiful place in the world, that the hardest stuff (like trekking for 5 days or WWOOFing) is the most rewarding, that Eaman can learn how to drive stick-shift via YouTube, that visiting friends abroad is always a good idea, that the San Blas Islands are a slice of paradise many people have never heard of, that friends can become family in a matter of three months, that surfing and stand-up paddleboarding are super fun, that Vietnamese street food is some of the best, that Laos will forever and always hold a special place in our hearts, that Bangkok is actually a lovely city and not the congested metropolis we assumed it would be, that I can snatch, squish and kill a mosquito with my bare hands, that going to a place like Myanmar, where tourism is so new, should be on everyone’s to-see list, that Burmese salads are delicious (who knew?), that the world can sometimes be a horrible place but giving your time can make things a little brighter, that you can always come home, that the Taj Mahal is other-wordly beautiful, that taking a vow of silence can give you some much-needed time for introspection and that, just when you thought you knew everything about your partner, a year of travel can make you even more deeply connected and seal a bond that nothing can break.

And would we have done anything differently? Besides maybe getting more fluent in Spanish, nada. It was because of these choices that we came out of this experience as happy and inspired as we did.

But out of everything we took from these last 13 months, three big lessons continued to crop up in conversations.

Hospitality. I already extolled the virtues of all our friends and family, who so graciously gave us everything (and more) when we visited them, but somehow, I can’t seem to get over how much they impacted us. It’s not just about hospitality; these people taught us about kindness in a way no one has ever before.

Passion. Zest for life, joie de vivre — call it what you want, but we’ve realized we want to lead more passionate, interesting lives. We want to be invested in the things we do, and as Eaman said in the last post, engage in activities because we want to, not because we’re supposed to. Along the way, we met so many inspiring people who are so excited about life. A German woman loved horseback riding so she found a ranch to volunteer with. A Burmese student wanted to branch out at school so he took up Spanish. A Thai woman loved seeing new places so she became a flight attendant.

Sure, we had opportunities in New York — actually, really amazing ones that you’d be hard-pressed to find elsewhere in the U.S. — but we just didn’t take advantage of very much of it. “Lack of money” and “lack of time” are seemingly valid excuses, but they’re still excuses. It’s kind of like, ya know, traveling the world. There are always reasons not to go; you just have to one day, bite the bullet and do it. And in the end, what it boiled down to wasn’t about time or money; it was a lack of inspiration and confidence.

We feel differently. Now, we realize how lucky we are to have opportunities. We want to dive into art classes and sports and recipes and books, try new things and be more knowledgeable citizens of the world. Put simply, we want to make the best use of our time and have something to show for ourselves to ourselves. What are we waiting for?

And finally: We’re all a lot more similar than we are different. Just take a look at the news or magazine stand and you’ll see that we live in a world where differences are emphasized — skin color, race, religion, sexuality, socio-economic status, education level, whatever. You know what we realized after 13 months around the world? Generally speaking, we’re actually all pretty much the same and want the same things in life — to be happy, close to our family, spiritually connected, successful and smart. We all just take different paths to get there.

Observing and participating in different religions was a particularly eye-opening aspect of the trip. There were so many practices and rituals that Eaman and I found to be common across various religions. To us, a Hindu idol isn’t all that different from the Kaaba which isn’t all that different from the Jewish tefillin. Are they not all just focal points to make a connection with god (or some greater being if you’d rather call it that)? Are prayer beads not a symbol of devotion across most religions? I’m not trying to be sacrilegious and I suppose it’s in the eye of the beholder, but these eyes see a lot more same than different.

Now that I’m back and have had time to feel my way around my figurative old stomping ground, I can tell you that I, for one, feel completely different. I feel emotionally lighter with much more mental clarity, confidence and inspiration. I still have no job prospects and no apartment, but I feel so invigorated and confident that everything will work out. If you want it to, it will. I truly believe that. And really, I’m just happy. It’s such a simple thing, but let me tell you, I wasn’t happy in New York. Sure, I had a great job, wonderful friends and that Manhattan apartment I always dreamed of, but at the core, I wasn’t happy. Today, I can’t stop smiling because there’s not a lot in my world to be upset about. I have an amazing, supportive network of family and friends, a boyfriend who means the world to me and a travel experience that changed my life.

People have wondered if I’m sick of talking about my travels, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Why wouldn’t I want to talk about one of the most significant, memorable, happiest times of my life? It was at some points scary, frustrating and lonely, but I wouldn’t be as happy or as at peace with my life as I am today without having gone through those feelings. And with that, I chose this chapter of the story.

As I mentioned, Eaman is still traveling through Iran and will have posts about his solo adventures here on the blog soon. It’ll paint a very different version of the Iran you see on the news, a version that we think all of you should see.

For now, thanks for always reading, commenting and staying connected while we were away. Couldn’t have done it without you.

xoxo

Before I delve into stories about our Vietnam adventures — FYI we have had some really rad ones so far — I have to admit something: Adjusting to Asia has been hard.

Asia is much rougher around the edges than South America, and as it turns out, I’m having a little more trouble getting into the swing of things than I anticipated. In fact, I find myself less mentally and physically prepared than when we left back in September of last year. Maybe it has something to do with coming off three months of “normal” life in Hawaii. Maybe it’s that Vietnam isn’t as easy of a place to travel as, say, Thailand. Maybe it’s that some of the novelty of travel has worn off in month nine. But probably, it’s all three.

I find it strange and surprising to admit I’m having trouble in Asia, considering I’m Indian and have witnessed/been a part of life in a Third World country, and I’m not saying I don’t feel really lucky to be here, experiencing things some people never see, but I’d be lying if I said everything was beautiful and romantic and just lovely all the time. And I’d be shocked if other long-term travelers never felt the feelings I’m about to describe.

Hong Kong was a nice transition because we stayed with a friend, but now we’re fending for ourselves. And it can be exhausting here in Vietnam — sidestepping speedy motorbikes, haggling like it’s a physical sport, figuring out the most effective way to say NO and the heat. My god, the heat.

I knew we were coming to SE Asia in the humid monsoon season, but seriously, who can cope with this? True, I sweat more than the average person, but here, I wilt. My hand fan helps but not much considering it’s just waving sheets of moisture-soaked air at me. It doesn’t help that the altogether dirtier air and streets make me feel that much worse. I find myself wishing for rain, since it’s the only way to keep temps down. (Post-rain days are actually quite pleasant.)

I may sound like a princess right now, but I’m just being honest. I feel gross all.the.time. and having a bit of an allergy problem makes it worse because the humidity makes my skin so itchy and uncomfortable. My favorite part of the day is coming home after dinner, knowing I won’t be going back out, and basking in AC, my new best friend. (I’m so thankful that accommodation is cheaper in Asia than it is in South America so we can come home to a comfortable private double room in clean guesthouses.) I was never this prissy in South America but I wasn’t battling such severe elements there.

But that’s just one side of our rough start. The other is that somewhere between South America and Asia, we got jaded — just a little. Not to sound like a brat, but now it takes a lot to impress us, and unfortunately, that’s one of the side effects of long-term travel. We saw so many beautiful things prior to Asia that going to the tourist spots X, Y and Z isn’t good enough anymore. As a way to keep things fresh, we now crave great experiences, not great sights. We want to interact with locals more and travelers less. (But we still love you, fellow travelers! It’s me, not you.)

But with this region’s procilivity for tour packages or perhaps the proclivity to be up in our faces (more than South America, in my opinion) and with the language barrier in Vietnam, it’s been a challenge to get them. From what I’ve heard, SE Asia is a backpacker’s dream because of well-oiled routes for travelers and English as the common denominator.

Well, we don’t want well-oiled routes and Vietnam is the exception to the English rule. To avoid the tourist scene, we ask locals where they like to go, eat and play, but, at least in Vietnam, they can’t comprehend going off the well-worn path. Most reply with tours, big cities and much-frequented monuments.

We have to work really hard here to get what we’re looking for. That said, after very persistent questioning and befriending a travel agent in Hanoi, we’ve been lucky to have already had a few really enriching local experiences. It’s just that it’s exhausting to get to that point and once one successful mini-trip is over, the thought of researching another is exhausting. We feel a bit burnt out, yet not ready to end things just yet. I don’t want to be jaded.

I’m thinking this is just a hump we have to get over; I’m already feeling better about it after getting out of busy Hanoi and away to the northwest mountains in Vietnam. But this is definitely not a feeling I anticipated. I guess it’s just the reality of long-term travel. This isn’t really a vacation anymore. (I mean, sometimes it definitely feels that way.) This is day-to-day life.

I think one detrimental side effect of our online personas — whether they be on Facebook, Twitter or blogs like this one here — is that they set you up for failure — failure to achieve a life that can seem completely unattainable. (Understatement of the century, I know.) Everyone seems happy, rich, social, fashionable and accomplished online. You may think that my life is grand because I’m traveling all over the world, have a happy and healthy relationship and am pursuing my dream. Well, you’re right and life is pretty grand. But, not all the time. I’m human and am subject to mood swings, negative thoughts and the same worry-filled self-reflections that anyone, anywhere faces. And so here, my most recent “real” moment. (Apologies if it’s a bit all over the place, but if you created an infographic of Thoughts in Archana’s Head at the Moment, it’d look pretty all over the place, too.)

If you’ve been reading this blog, you also know that I have a problem with dwelling on the negative when life stands still. It’s usually only when I’m on the go that I feel like I’m truly living. (It’s a good and bad thing sprung from my NYC years.) Well, now that we’re living in Honolulu and life is somewhat routine, the nagging Type A-derived demon — who last visited when we were living in Buenos Aires — is back. Yet again, I find myself looking forward — not living in the moment — and focusing on what I don’t have instead of what I do.

I know I mentioned in this post about our six-month travel-versary that I still don’t know what I want to do in life but, as advised by my friends, I should take this time to dabble. Dabble in writing. Dabble in cooking. Dabble in the outdoors. Dabble in dabbling? I think the reason I’ve been fretting as of late is that I’ve come to a realization: I don’t dabble. I usually know what I want and I go for it.

I have more varied goals here while traveling and specifically in Hawaii. I’m supposed to be practicing my Farsi, but I’m lazy. I’m supposed to be doing yoga every day, but I complain that I’m tired from work. I was supposed to already have tried paddle boarding, yet somehow, I haven’t even tried it in the two months we’ve been here. I feel lukewarm about all these things and what I now realize is that I miss being passionate about that One Thing.

Hidden within these mini goals was an effort to unlock some hidden passion, the thing that makes me tick. It used to be the dog-eat-dog magazine world, but now the road is a lot less clear. I hear the way my cousin, Pratt, talks about yoga and I, too, want to find something so monumental and influential in my life. The problem isn’t that I’ve lost that drive to find it; it’s that I haven’t found that “something” that turns the wheels and I’m, in turn, blaming myself for not finding it soon enough.

But I’m fooling myself into thinking that I’m supposed to be seeing some tangible return — in this case a life and career path — after six months of traveling.

And I’m not alone in this emotional roadblock. I was explaining my internal conflict to Eaman a few days ago and as soon as I articulated that it was the goal that was lost, not the drive, he realized that we’re going through the exact same thing. Like I so fervently pursued my magazine job, he, too, went after an investment banking job with equal gusto. Since then, he hasn’t chased anything with such excitement. In the last few weeks, we had both been going through some sort of mental struggle that neither of us could put a finger on, but in that moment, we realized just how similar (more so) we really are.

Either way, it’s put a damper on the last couple of weeks — minus those wonderful birthday-celebrating days — and when I finally vented about it to one of my best friends, Suchit, he explained, so well that we — as well-educated children of immigrants — are hard-wired to achieve, achieve, achieve. It’s hard to step back and let your life unfold organically and, in the process, reveal that light-bulb moment. And even before I left to travel in September, I rattled off a list of goals to accomplish while traveling to my other best friend, Avni, and her response was: “Yeah, or you could also just have a great time.”

I know what you’re probably thinking: Geez, just let loose! Enjoy the moment, and you’ll figure it out later. True, but try telling that to yourself when you’re bummed out. It’s a lot easier to give advice than it is to take it. So for my part, I’m trying to remember all these wise words, but of course, letting it all out on the blog is its own kind of therapy. Thanks for indulging and pardon this reflective interruption.

Happier posts ahead — we have news!

Six months ago, Eaman and I were sitting in JFK airport, waiting for this year of fun and adventure to begin. Since then, we’ve gone to six countries in South and Central America and done a whole lot that I’ve already shared and re-shared with you. Now all I keep thinking is: How is time flying so quickly? What’s the rush? Can we make it stop? Please?

But realizing how rapidly each day, week and month goes by and stopping to recognize the milestone upon us, it encouraged me to sit down and think about what’s transpired in this time. Leaving South America had me doing some self-reflection already, but now, being on U.S. soil in month six has resulted in some interesting new revelations about myself that I definitely didn’t see coming when we left September 20.

The day we left:

I feel happier around foreign languages than I do around English. When I was at the airport yesterday, two girls and their mother – all from Luxembourg, I eyed their passports – were speaking in what I think was Luxembourgish and it was like music to my ears. Call me crazy, but for me, there’s something so pleasant about hearing Dutch or staccato German or even just English in a Kiwi accent, probably because it evokes such happy memories. For six months, all Eaman and I heard were foreign languages. When we’d enter our hostel room in a new city, if we heard a different language, it was exciting because it meant we’d be introduced to a whole new culture. (We’d be less enthused to hear American English.) Sure, we all eventually spoke in the common denominator language of English, but the point was that we were surrounded by a hodgepodge of different backgrounds. It became symbolic of being on the road, being adventurous, being truly out there. A part of me flip-flops between loving life in Hawaii and missing life on-the-go, and this language issue is definitely derived from the latter.

When we landed in Hawaii last month, we couldn’t stop speaking in Spanish for a couple of days – a “gracias” here, a “quanto cuesta?” there. To have to revert back to English – and not that slower, slightly more articulated Spanish we all sometimes use amongst foreigners, but pure American English – made me feel like the journey was over. Of course, it isn’t, and there’s a lot to be done in Hawaii as well as Asia (whenever that happens), but it was a jarring change. Thank goodness the owner of the smoothie shop I work at is Argentinian, the general manager is Venezuelan and two employees are Mexican; I still get to hear Spanish often. And do I even need to mention just how many Japanese immigrants live in Honolulu?

It takes less time than you’d think to readjust. In Panama I kept saying, “I can’t wait to have an apartment and read magazines in English and be able to order food without hesitation and not get screwed over by cab drivers.” But then we got to Hawaii, and within a day or two, it was business as usual. In fact, it was scary how easy it was to slip back into Americana (minus the aforementioned language non-barrier issue). It made me realize how little time you need to get back into the swing of things. And I’m not talking about work – because it will definitely take me a long time to get back into that mode – but general life. There isn’t really an adjustment period. I grew up in the States long enough to revert back quickly. When I was home, I ran some errands at the mall, Barnes & Noble and the like, and it felt just like the time when I was home for three weeks in September after moving out of New York and before leaving for our trip.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before we ordered Papa John’s in Hawaii:

And I think a part of the reason I got the smoothie job is because the general manager and I connected instantly about backpacking. She and her husband had done basically what Eaman and I are doing sometime ago, but after a point, she told her husband, “I want to go back home, re-settle and take my time to ease back into life.” He told her the readjustment period is a short one and that she’d regret it, and it turns out she did. She echoed my sentiments: It really doesn’t take that much time, so when you’re on the road, stay for as long as you can.

To drive the point home further (for me), I was working the cash register one day at the smoothie shop, when a husband, wife and their son came in. They gave me their phone number so I could look them up in our rewards program, and when I recognized their San Francisco-based cell numbers, I asked if they lived in Honolulu or were just visiting. With smiles – sheer relaxation, really – on their faces, they explained that they were taking “a sabbatical from life” and living in Honolulu for one month and the Big Island (Hawaii) for another. Seriously? With a kid? I found that incredibly eye-opening. They proved that it doesn’t have to end.

I don’t think I fit in with the East Coast anymore. There were hints of this as I was leaving New York, but I don’t think the fact became fully realized until I came home last week. I had flown into Newark, NJ from Honolulu, and as I was getting onto the AirTrain, people were running to get into the car first. Did I miss something? What was the rush? Where was the “excuse me”?

Plus, there was just a general gray energy. (I totally believe in energies now, by the way. Meet enough new people on a daily basis and you’ll learn to read energies, too.) I mean, I don’t blame East Coasters; the weather, though currently wonderful, can suck in March. I, too, had been a victim of it for many years.

Of course this is a blanket statement, and many of my friends and family are happy there, but I think after seeing the places I’ve seen in the last six months and realizing what suits my personality, I now know that I want to be somewhere with good weather and happy people. There’s just this wonderful energy and affection in Honolulu – I also felt it in San Diego big time – and I feel a lot happier and better about myself in that figurative climate. I also have slowed down quite a bit, and I just don’t think I can keep up on the East Coast. I don’t sweat the small stuff as much, and being around that inherent anxiety is a turn-off. I do miss New York, and I’m so happy I left the city on a high note, but apart from maybe one day owning a place in Nolita on our old street – a girl can dream – I don’t see myself there in the future.

I miss my friends. A lot. In El Calafate, Argentina I was reading a lengthy email from one of my best friends, Avni, and bawling shortly after. I just felt so far away from my second family. And then when I was home, I caught up with my other best friend, Samira, and as awesome as it was, it made me realize how far from her I’d be in a few days. See, I have friends from various segments of my life, some of whom have never even met each other, but what they all have in common is that they’re a part of a very small group of people who are like a second family. I knew it’d be hard to leave my friends, but I didn’t think I’d cry about it!

Such a treat to be able to see my friends Jotsna and Shilpa, who I’ve known forever and ever, during their family’s recent visit to Hawaii:

I still have no idea what I want to pursue in life career-wise. In a perfect world, I would just keep backpacking my way around the world. That, however, requires money. And to get money, one needs a job. I do think there’s something to be said for the Hawaiian way of life, as explained to me by one of the managers at my smoothie shop: Work just so you have enough money to live a happy life. Basically, work to live, don’t live to work. After six months, I do believe in this theory more than I ever would have before, but at the same time, there are some lifestyle choices that make me happy that aren’t necessarily things a simpler person would need – like visiting restaurants, traveling a lot, living in California, indulging in fashion and owning 2-3 dogs, including the medically plagued, expense-fraught English bulldog. At least I have clear goals…?

A picture my cousin, Ashwin, sent me:

I’m the kind of person that’s super driven under normal circumstances. Right now, though, my mind and interests feel all over the place. Maybe I want to go to pastry school. Maybe I want to start a (professional) blog. Maybe I want to write a book. Maybe I want to work in the travel industry. I just don’t know. And for someone who always knew what she wanted – to work in the TV department at Entertainment Weekly, a dream I had since 9^th grade that I fortunately got to accomplish – it’s a refreshing, but strange feeling for my mind to be so scattered.

But Avni broke it down so well: She said that sometimes when you’re so focused on one thing, your other interests fall to the wayside. Now is the perfect opportunity to explore a lot of different things at the same time, when I have the luxury of time to do so. I’ll eventually have that light bulb moment when something clicks and that’s when my inner go-getter will kick in.

I’m surprised by how many people tune into this blog. My family and friends have been dutifully following along, but I always get extra excited when I see someone I’ve never met comment on a post. I definitely don’t work the travel blogger network as much as other bloggers, so I don’t expect the same returns, but to know that my very personal, non-service-oriented posts are actually drawing people in is a great feeling. Thank you, all! You’ve kept us company when we felt so, so far.

And today isn’t just our travel-versary. It’s Persian New Year! Norouz Mobarak!

Last night we rung in the new year at our hostel, La Casona de Odile, which threw an incredible dinner and dance party. The festivities began at 8:30 p.m. with canapes, appetizers and berry punch in their backyard and continued indoors with a lavish three-course dinner.

We’ve been at hostels for group dinners, like the one we went to in El Calafate for Christmas Eve, but this dinner felt different. You could tell how much love was put into creating the meal, which all the staffers helped to make. This hostel is such a community, and they made us all feel like we were sitting to dinner in our own homes. Everyone had such a huge smiles serving us, and I’ll admit, after cooking our own food the last few weeks, it was really nice to just enjoy the food (and not wash dishes).

They offered a full, delicious menu — both veg and non-veg:
- Spinach and cheese empanada and quiche // Beef empanada and quiche
- Wild mushroom and spinach lasagna // Lamb stew
- Flan cake with dulce de leche, cream and raspberries

It was maybe one of the best meals of my life.

I feel so lucky to be on this journey, and with my best friend along for the ride. Cheers to 2012 and many more adventures to come.

Click ahead for more pictures from last night.