Stardust.

I am not a politician. I have no sway in the ways of the world, and I am considerably uneducated when it comes to the many intricacies of what motivates action and reaction on a global scale.

I am not a survivor. I have been unfathomably fortunate in my life to see and experience the world without major repercussion or fear or danger that others live in on a daily basis.

I am a global citizen. I have been to Beirut. I've walked the streets with my parents, drank in their bars, danced, learned. I have been to Paris. I climbed the steps of the Notre Dame as a child, marveled in the historic museums, ate in their restaurants, loved. I have done this and so much more in fourty five incredible countries that this world has to offer.
I travel because I love our world. I love the cultures: so different they are enlightening, so welcoming they are inspiring. I love the languages: all foreign but somehow all translatable through body language and smiling eyes. I love the food. I love the smells. I love the transformation of a foreign land into something familiar. I love expanding what I think I know about the world and constantly learning more.

This is not a happy post.

I am a global citizen and I am afraid. I have seen so much good in this world. Laughing children in impoverished Africa. Generous hosts in desolate Cambodia. Rescued elephants in rural Thailand. Cultural celebrations at home in Trinidad. I’ve seen open minds and open hearts in every corner of this wide world we inhabit. But I'm afraid that that's not enough.
In light of what has happened not just in Paris but in our world in these past horrific days I am sad and I feel hopeless.

I do not have political opinions or first hand tales of survival. I have feelings. I have feelings that are hard to untangle from my unhappy heart, filter through my frightened mind, and articulate into wise words. I have feelings that are biased, uninformed, and unhelpful. I don't have a suggestion for how to make the world a better place. I don't have encouragement for those who continue on, unaffected by the atrocities that we have all faced. I don't have respect for the people that I am so afraid of. I have feelings. I have fear. Fear that the next victim will be someone I know, someone I love, someone I will never see again. I have sadness. Sadness that so many can say that about people in their lives, not just as a result of the attacks on Friday, but the violence every day. I have confusion. Confusion as to how someone made of the same stardust that binds my bones and pumps my blood can make a conscious and calculated decision to take someone else's life, to devalue another human existence. I have feelings, and none of them are good.

So this is not a happy post. But I will not apologise. Feeling is all that we can do at a time like this. Feeling is what keeps us human, what gives this stardust meaning. Make it worthwhile.

Thoughts from Places: Home

Home is: friends, family, and food. Home is hammocks, heat, and happiness; beer, bikinis, and books; sun, sand, and smiles. Above all, home is fluid.

My home is the one point that I have always come back to. Between the 7 countries I have lived in and 45 countries I have explored, home is the one place I will always return. The place with the memories from as early as I can remember, the place with my family always ready to welcome me back, the only place with pencil marks on an otherwise innocent white wall, marking my growth throughout my life. Some growth is easier to measure than others.

But, through all of this, my home is just as fluid as any of my travels. The house we have had for almost two decades has grown up with us: every time I return my parents have added something here, changed something there - much like the subtle differences in myself that develop between each return.
The friends I have had for my whole life have grown, changed, left, returned, developed and created.
And the country. My country has changed more in my lifetime than I have. It has gone from young and naive to grown and misguided, from safe to dangerous, from corrupt to criminal and back again. But like any growing adult, it has learned. It has flourished and impressed and improved as much as it has struggled. And we keep moving forward. 53 short years of independence cannot be expected to shape the perfect country, but we can - and we do! - continue to try.

My home has taught me more than any far off land ever could, has welcomed me back with more love and positivity than anywhere else in the world, and has shaped me into the person I am today.

For all the things you see and do... never forget the restorative powers of home.

Thoughts from Places: Maine

When in a foreign country it is important to embrace the local culture: do popular activities, eat the favourite foods, and live as the locals do. In each country I've visited I've made a point to try to find a welcoming host to show me how they live. A friend in Thailand, a local guide in Vietnam, an entire village in Cambodia... Back in the states I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the extended family of a very dear friend of mine. And it was the best American experience I could imagine. 

Lewiston, Maine may not seem like anything special. The city centre looks like most American towns (that I know of), the neighborhoods are cookie-cutter comfortable (in my opinion), and the people seem much the same as any other town in the Northeast (in my experience). But, for one action-packed weekend, Lewiston Maine became my best cultural experience in America. A summer cookout with Maine lobsters and tender steaks, followed by afternoon apple picking, a stunning hot air balloon town festival, and topped off baking fresh apple pies from scratch. As I stood like a fly on the wall watching the women in the kitchen and the men in the lounge, every single one with a smile on their faces, I could not help but think I was living the American Dream. 

That may not be everyone's American experience, but for that weekend it was mine. And I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Even when you've returned, and the backpack is unpacked and you think you've regressed to reality, you can still find a welcome adventure in the most unexpected places. You never have to go far for your next great experience.

Body

In the last twelve months my body has...
Recovered from flu’s and fevers, been exhausted and exhilarated, cried, laughed, and screamed. It has known the touch of a man and the embrace of good friends. It has feasted on cultural cuisines, hiked me up mountains, swam me into waterfalls, and bathed with elephants.
In the last twelve months my body has gained weight, lost weight, and gained it all back again (and then some). My body has had cuts and bruises, tan lines and pimples, stretch marks and haircuts.

I have known insecurity, but I have never been able to let it linger for too long: for the strength and resilience of my own small body never ceases to amaze me. When I think I can't hike any longer it lifts me up higher, when I think I can't run any faster it takes me further. Whatever I think I cannot overcome my body proves me wrong. And that is a beautiful thing.

I am proud of my body, and I love every inch of it. Each scar that tells a story, each stretch mark which shows growth, each pimple that comes and fades, each unruly curly hair on my head. All of this is who I am: my body is me, and I am my body. And for that I am proud. And you should be too.

Thoughts from Places: A Return

I wasn’t going to write about this. It’s too personal I thought, too real. But coming back to reality is just as much a part of travel as the amazing adventures abroad, and I know many people who, like me, find it hard to readjust.

The truth is: coming back is hard. It’s hard because everything is the same, but you aren’t. It’s hard because you want to share your experiences, want to relive them by gushing about them to the friends you left behind, but they cannot relate. It’s hard because, believe it or not, life went on without you while you were away. People had their own excitement and joy, heartache and experience. And you missed out on that just as they missed out on you, and everything that happened between who you were and who you have become.

Coming back is hard because you miss the excitement. Because you crave the uncertainty of unfamiliar countries, and long for local cuisines that just aren’t the same in the West. Because you want to see the people you met along the way who you became so close with that you miss them like long lost friends, hoping that maybe they’ll understand that you are homesick for a place that was never truly your home.

Coming back is hard because when a place is laced with old memories it’s hard to find space to make new ones, and you don’t want to let go of all the ones you have just made. It’s hard because in the every day routine that you have returned to all of the wild & wonderful moments almost feel like a dream from another life, another version of yourself that you almost don’t recognise.
It’s hard to approach the familiar as you would the unknown, awkward to do alone here things that you would have been excited by there. It’s uncomfortable to conform to the comfortable.

But the return is just as much a part of the adventure as the journey itself. It may be hard, and it can get lonely at times, but it will never be so bad that the incredible experiences were not worth it. Embrace it; coming back may surprise you.

Travel

I have known many loves.

The love of my family: Never wavering, never questioning, ever present a short reach away. A love that taught me how to walk through the world, how to touch and be touched by my fellow people, of every creed and race.

The love of friends: Unapologetic and without judgment. A love that allowed me to grow from the best version of my awkward adolescence into the best version of my tentative womanhood. A love that taught me to laugh and gave me the safety to cry.

The love of a boy: True and honest, and young and eager, however temporary it was. A love that taught me as much in its ending as it did in its life.

Yet, of all the loves I've known, none is as much a part of me as the love of travel. A love that inspires me, guides my every footstep and dances with my future before I think to look ahead. A love that stole me as a child; creeping into my bones and infecting my marrow, and has wed me as an adult; binding with my blood cells and coursing through my veins. An ever present love, a companion when I need it most, and an ally when I don't. A friend.

A love of opportunity: the opportunity to visit with a family friend, a friendship forged in Trinidad & Tobago, borne in Texas, USA, and stretched all the way to Manila, Philippines. A love that has given me many friends, in every city I have explored. A love that allows me to bathe with elephants, cuddle with koalas, and hike with monkeys. An endless, generous love.

This love I bear is the most devoted love I have known, as much a part of me as my quick legs and restless soul. So even when I travel alone, with no companion but my duffel bag and naïve hopes, I am in the company of love: the love of travel.

Thoughts from Places: Cambodia

The hardest part of travel is not the carrying of heavy bags, not the uncomfortable transportation or even constantly wondering when next you will have a nice shower. The hardest part of travel is always the end.

Cambodia was a dream: a learning experience in the history of the country and the boundaries of my own humanity. I chose to tackle this part of the trip on my own. No tour to guide me, no activities booked ahead of time, just myself and my dreams - which quickly became a reality.

The contrast of leaving the big, chaotic, over-populated, hustle and bustle of Saigon in Vietnam and landing in green Cambodian fields was a welcome change. The tuk-tuk ride from the airport to my hostel was one of the happiest moments of my entire trip. There is something quite regal about traveling by tuk-tuk. With the wind in your hair and the dust in your eyes, the cab is open for all the world to see – and boy do they stare! And then I smile. And suddenly they come to life behind their enthusiastic waves and the excitement in their eyes. “They”, these people I will never see again: Cambodians, preserved in my mind as a passing blur of happiness.

This is my favourite part of traveling. The everyday reminder of the rapid nature of friendships forged en route. I get to know a friend that I already had but barely knew. I meet a girl with wildly curly blonde hair and a European accent, and before I even ask her where the bathroom is I know we are going to be friends. I am taken under the wing of my friendly tuk-tuk driver, and introduced to his family and welcomed into his rural village. I strike up a conversation with a young tour guide in a war museum and learn more about his life than I do about his country (though I learn a lot about both). I may choose to travel alone, but I am never truly alone. I am never lonely: I am constantly in the company of future friends.

I learned so much in Cambodia. I learned to enjoy my own company and to make strangers into friends. I learned about the tragic and violent history of the country, but also about the welcoming and kind nature of its people. I learned about the ancient Khmer empire and the amazing architecture that has survived centuries, tangled with trees. I learned about the circus school that teaches children how to make laughter a career. I learned how to smile in moments of silence when no one is watching. Most importantly I learned about the resilience, and the hope for the country. And I learned to love it.

Thoughts from Places: Vietnam

Hanoi: There is a certain insecurity that goes along with traveling on your own in an unfamiliar place, especially when you first arrive. Your bags take forever, you don't know the currency exchange rate, your phone isn't working and you can't connect to wifi. But you're excited and amazed and nervous and cautious all at once. 

The taxi ride from the airport is the first culture shock. Almost impossible because of the language barrier, but encouraging because of the driver's attempt to communicate despite it. And the city! The big, overcrowded, too hot, nerve racking, entirely amazing city. 

Ha Long Bay: No amount of large tour groups and man made beaches can ruin the aesthetic wonder of Ha Long Bay. With 2,000 limestone islands, bottle green water that reminds me of home, naturally occurring caves and man-made attractions, it is no surprise that this is one of the seven wonders of the natural world. 

Hue: Hue is almost the opposite of Hanoi. Streets wide enough for cars and motorbikes to coexist, friendly people and generous monks, forrests and rice fields, authentic food and cultural history lessons. A motorbike tour of the city is a one of a kind experience. 

Hoi An: Nicer people, better food, calmer streets, and a prettier town. Hoi An is a wonderful slice of Vietnamese culture amidst the hustle and bustle of overwhelming big cities. While it is clear that almost everything is geared at tourists, the picturesque river town and genuine people happy to share their culture make it one of my favourite spots in Vietnam. 

Nha Trang: It is possible to find authentic adventures and pockets of relaxation even in the busiest of cities overrun by Russian tourists.

Saigon: The real Vietnam. A big city with an authentic feel, culture and history every where you look. And a true sense of the open hearted and forgiving nature of the Vietnamese people. 

All in all, Vietnam is a stunning country. Striking landscapes juxtaposed by major cities; the contrast of nature and pollution; the overwhelming noise and population; people that are happy, even if not always approachable; and peaceful. 

In my time in Vietnam I did not see a country that is still picking itself up, did not experience a people that are holding a grudge. It may be naïve, but I could have easily spent two weeks here without confronting the violent history of this country. 

Vietnam cannot be defined by its past, but the horrors of the war should not be forgotten. Yet Vietnam lives on: boasting its culture and sharing it's country with anyone open-minded and adventurous enough to experience it. 

Thoughts from Places: Chiang Mai, Thailand

There are some things that are indescribable. Training, feeding, riding and bathing elephants is indescribable. 

Above all, what I have come to notice in my travels is similarity. A tropical rainforest is a tropical rainforest whether it is on a Caribbean isle or the Southeast Asian subcontinent. Similarities are abundant, and inspiring. This is one earth, our earth, and we are one people. Separated, but connected by the land and seas we share, the planet we inhabit together. 

In my travels I can, and do, find a connection with almost anyone I meet. And if we don't have one, we can make one. You're from Beirut? I've been there. You speak English? So do I. Your hair is curly? As is mine. We are all more connected than we realise, more similar than we ever admit. 

And what better time  to acknowledge this than playing with elephants with new friends and bonding with strangers on a jungle trek and hill tribe home stay in Northern Thailand? 

Tara Tour

Five years ago I was a seventeen-year-old mess. I was more confident than I should have been, thought I was funnier than I actually was, and committed to procrastination like it was a serious relationship.

At twenty-two not much has changed.

This month marks the five-year anniversary of my humble, sometimes ridiculous, all times open-hearted, honest little blog. Memoirs Of A Rat has grown up with me through the most incredible years of my life. It saw my senior year of high school, my year abroad in Italy, my first years in college, my first serious relationship, and now it continues to accompany me through yet another study abroad and more adventures through the world.

Five years ago I wrote a draft for one of my earliest blog posts. It was entitled my ‘5 Year List’. For reasons I cannot remember I never posted this list. I thought now would be the perfect time to share and respond to it:

1. Graduate from high school

I am happy to say I accomplished this first goal relatively easily.

2. Study abroad in Italy for a year

This, too, is one of my proudest accomplishments. I lived, I learned, and I grew in Italy. And I will be forever grateful.

3. Get my book published

While I don’t think I realised how ambitious this goal was, I admire my seventeen-year old devotion.

4. Get a job? (the question mark means it's something I know I should do, but probably won’t)

Again, at seventeen I thought I was witty. Happily, I have worked in two incredible internships in the last few years, volunteered in a Psychology lab on my university campus, and assisted other’s in their research tasks. I have gained invaluable experience and unbelievable clarity of my own through these jobs I once thought I may not want to do.

5. Get my first car (a Ford Ranger XLT please)
6. Learn how to take care of my car, I’m talking grease monkey strip down
7. Go shooting again
8. Learn how to take a gun apart and put it back together

I’m not sure why I thought cars and guns were so important to me back then, but I am willing to admit it was probably more for the image I wanted to portray than my actual interests. I can drive (a manual truck nonetheless),but I cannot maintain my car on my own. I have shot a gun, but only in a controlled situation, and I have not had any burning desire to pick one up since.

9. Learn some sort of wicked self defence, like walking-down-a-dark-alley-some-guy-jumps-me-from-behind-and-ends-up-regretting-it-big-time self defence

While I may not have learned ‘wicked self defence’, I can take care of myself. I’ve lived on my own for the last three or four years. I cook my own meals, I clean my own apartment, I manage my own expenses. I don’t need to know jujitsu to know what it takes to survive in this world, and basic but important skills like these are necessary. More importantly, I can defend myself from the world. I have strong opinions to the point of being stubborn, and I believe a woman can and should pay just as much importance to her mind as her physical strength. I am small, but I am powerful in my own way, I am in control of my self and my life. But I am not naïve.

10. Suddenly come across lots of money (I am not picky as to how this happens, just how much money I happen upon)

I am almost disappointed that this seemed so important to me at that time. I am incredibly fortunate and always have been in my family’s support of me. I will, one day, earn a living and be financially secure and comfortable. That’s all I need.

11. Go to Australia

Happily, I have just concluded one semester living and studying in Sydney Australia. I am encouraged by my own ability to work towards my goals, however trivial some of them may have been, and make my own dreams come true. I’ve never sit back and wait for things to come to me, I work hard and I achieve my goals. I am proud of that.

12. Pay my parents back for lots of things and buy my sister a very nice dress

One day, I will do both of these and more. Though no material goods could ever repay my family for their unwavering support and encouragement of me.

13. Go to college

I’m surprised at myself that a college education fell so low on my list – below cars and guns as a seventeen-year-old girl! However, I am three years into my four-year undergraduate program, with aspirations to continue my higher education. I could not be happier with my love for the studies I have chosen.

The last five years have been, undoubtedly, the most important years of my life. But I am no longer that miserable seventeen-year-old girl.

I turned eighteen and graduated from high school. I turned nineteen and lived in Italy. I turned twenty and found love. I turned twenty-one and lost love, but managed to find myself along the way. I turned twenty-two in Thailand.

No, I am far from who I was five years ago. And this blog has grown and matured with me from a pitiful attempt at comedy and a cry for attention, to a sharing of my life and my travels. This space is no longer the world as I want it to be, this is the world as I see it, as I choose to make it every day. This is no longer Memoirs of a silly young rat, this is a tour of my world, my lessons in life and learning: TaraTour.

Thoughts from Places: A Roadtrip

We flew from Sydney to Cairns, hired a campervan car, and set out to drive 1,058 miles south in 10 days time. We were hopeful, lively, and excited.

On our first night on the road we were burgled. A desperate thief broke into our car while we were sleeping in it and robbed us of a passport, a laptop, a wallet, and our piece of mind.
On the second night on the road we drove all night, exhausted and disheveled, only to find out that our destination, our rest stop, was aflame in a large bushfire.
On the third night on the road we ran out of gas, broke down on the side of the road, and slept in our car until the city around us awoke with the morning light.
We had many sleepless nights, many hours of driving, many long nights at the wheel.
It rained almost the entire time we were sailing around the coastal islands.
We made plans and changed plans and spent more money than we had.

Yet, amongst all that, I had a great time.
I held a cuddly Koala bear. I managed to go scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef, a life time goal of mine. We made friends, and grew closer as a unit. We sailed around the Whitsunday islands and saw beautiful beaches and tropical islands. We explored Fraser Island, my personal favourite part of the entire trip, with beach roads and sub tropical rainforest growing out of 98% sand and 2% rock. We had a scenic flight over the island and saw lakes that looked like butterflies and trees that looked like broccoli. We explored a new city and I saw an old friend. And then we lay on the beach for two days and learned to surf – another life goal.

In ten days of disaster, we managed to see so much and do so much that it left my head spinning. It was an experience!

And that’s the thing, that’s what it’s all about. That’s what life is: an experience. They are not all good. Sometimes bad luck strikes when you least expect it and can barely handle it. But you band together and you keep moving, because forward is the only direction you can go. The bad experiences are bad, sometimes terrible. But they can never outweigh the good. For every sleepless night we had an incredible day. For every item lost we gained an adventure. For every day on the road we had a new experience.

Experiences are what bring people together. When you share a drink or a meal you gain a temporary connection. When you share an experience you gain a life-long memory, and, with it, a life-long friend.

These days it is easy to judge others by their age or their intelligence; easy to say someone is older therefore they must be wiser. But the true measure of life is one’s experience. He, or she, who is more experienced, will always have a firmer grasp on reality, a deeper understanding of the world, a richer life.

After ten days of terrific terror I can say I am a little wiser, a little more cautious, a little more adventurous, and a lot more experienced.

Smart

Almost five years ago now I started writing this blog under the pretense of procrastination. Though so much time has passed and so much about me has changed as I have grown from an awkward teenager to a young woman my biological makeup stays the same: just as my bones have grown but not transformed, my teenage self has matured but not been replaced. That is to say, I still find myself procrastinating.

As I sit and try to write five analytical papers over the next four days for take home exams that commence my second to last year of my undergraduate degree, I find myself daydreaming of a world without the pressure and prestige of higher education. Perhaps a better world.

In my three years at university I have spent countless hours breaking my back sitting hunched over my laptop writing nonsensical words just to meet a word limit and studying to regurgitate impossible amounts of information in order to pass standardised examinations. I have poured my heart and soul into papers and assignments that I have become too invested in and seen little reward for my efforts. I have stressed to the point of anxiety and lost sleep to the point of physical illness. I have consumed my body weight ten times over in caffeinated beverages.
However, I have also gained an innumerable amount of knowledge and an unequalled passion for the study and understanding of human psychology. I love what I do (or plan to do, rather). I have enjoyed almost every class I have had the privilege to have taken, and made lasting connections with more than a few outstandingly intelligent professors along the way - not just in different areas of study but at different universities in different countries. I have met a mentor. I have decided upon and directed my life towards future studies and, hopefully, an established career. I have grown into my own dreams as I once grew into clothing carelessly purchased a few sizes too big. I have accomplished things I never could have dreamed of five years ago in my awkward adolescent angst.

Yet, I cannot help but wonder if it is all that it seems.
I know for a fact that the majority of my knowledge has been gained far outside of the four walls of a classroom. I can say from experience that written assessments and standardised examinations only serve to bolster intelligence that is strictly contained within an educational institution. I must admit that what I learn and do within my studies only goes as far as I aim to apply it in the working world.
I have gained more, experienced more, and learned more in all of the lessons I have had outside of my university in the last three years. I have grown in the experience of studying in Italy and Australia, and matured in the cultural assimilation to the United States. I have learned more in my travels through Cyprus, Lebanon, Canada, Sierra Leone, Australia, and Thailand in the last three years than I could ever hope to learn in a university structure in four or five years.
I believe that there is a fundamental difference between gaining intelligence and being smart. My university career has granted me intelligence that I am infinitely grateful for. But my life and travels have made me smart.
Being smart is about being able to balance education with life’s experiences, as much about failures as it successes, as much borne from sadness as exuberance. Being smart is not a letter mark on a report card; it is a way of life.

And as I go into this, my final week of my third year of my university education, I remind myself that I am more than the sum of my parts – I am worth more than my grades and cannot be measured by a GPA. I may not have a 4.0, but I take comfort in the belief that I am smart nonetheless.

Transition

I’ve begun to realise that twenty-two is a very important transient time in my life.

Through my life and my travels I have made a great deal of friends, many of whom are in the monumental stages of graduating from University, settling down, starting a career and/or starting a family. I am not yet doing any of these things – and that’s okay. I don’t feel the need to fit my life to someone else’s timeline.
Yet, I will be joining my friends in these adult endeavours soon enough.

But, for now, I am transitioning. I’m transitioning from youth to adulthood, from inexperienced to mature, from trepidation to bravery. Studying in Sydney is a transition between my undergraduate years in America and a postgraduate degree who knows where. Graduating is a transition from my studies to my career. Travelling is a transition from where I have been to where I am going, from what I know to what I am yet to discover. Twenty-two is a transition from who I was to who I will be. Each of these stages is a stepping-stone in life, not an end goal but a progression from one point to the next. And I’m enjoying every stage of the journey so far.

It is important to remember not to compare ourselves to those around us. Life cannot be measured in someone else's accomplishments. It is easy to look around you and be afraid that you have not accomplished as much as your neighbour, or that you are more successful than your peer. This is not the case. You have accomplished, you are successful. And so are others. We are all successful in our own way, all achieve our own standards of happiness. If you are not happy yet, keeping trying. But keep trying for your own sake, not to feel as though you are competing with someone else.
As long as you believe something, it can become reality. As long as you keep trying you can keep succeeding.

Living life in constant motion makes it easy to feel as though I am running from the inevitable; from the expectations of a ‘real job’, ‘real home’, ‘real life’. Yet I keep running. I’m playing hopscotch through my life until I find something, someone, or somewhere that makes the idea of permanence finally more comforting than terrifying. I’ve always believed that a healthy dose of fear keeps us aware and alive.

I am in constant motion… but I am still young, I’m not tired yet.

"Freedom"

Disadvantage (noun): an unfavorable circumstance or condition that reduces the chances of success or effectiveness.

Not many people that know me would describe me as disadvantaged. In fact, they may say I am being indulgent in claiming so. I am incredibly fortunate in my financial support and my ability to achieve what I set my mind to. Whether this is for material reasons, or because I’m too stubborn to give up makes no matter.
Yet, ‘freedom’ is an incredibly relative term. And while I have had the constant freedom in my life to attempt to make my own dreams a reality, I have often times not been granted the freedom of state in order to achieve just that.

I was born on a small rock in the Caribbean Sea. It’s not much, but it’s home. Many of my peers were born on bigger rocks. My rock has a name that does not hold much weight behind it: Trinidad. Trinidad & Tobago, while a beautiful tropical isle, does not hold much influence in the geopolitical arena. Whereas my counterparts born on the bigger rocks that go by the names The United States of American, or The United Kingdom, or even Australia – these bigger rocks that seem more ‘useful’ in the eye of global politics – these people are lucky. These people have a freedom I will never know.

In my life and years of traveling no word has ever filled me with such dread as the word “visa”. Oftentimes I forget that I am disadvantaged. That because of where I was born and who I am I have to jump through extra hoops and pay extra money to do what my American or English or Australian friends can do without a second thought.

Once upon a time this wonderful earth of ours was one big rock. As time passed and natural phenomenon occurred this rock split into separate continents and these continents into individual countries. And each country is wonderfully and uniquely beautiful. It wasn’t until people came along and made our world a political mayhem that it became so unrealistically difficult to share in the earth we all call our home.

Because I was born on a smaller rock, because my little blue book is not as blue as an American’s or red like a Brit’s, because my little home does not have much to offer on a global and fiscal political scale these countries that I hope to visit one day have no reason to let me in. Not because I want to learn from them, not because I want to see their home and commit it to memory, not because I grow every day by experiencing new cultures and I hope I can offer the same to anyone I meet. No, I can’t offer political advantage, my country is not a powerhouse of trade so globally, most doors are shut to me.

Yes, I can apply to be granted the permission to enter a country once I make a good case and prove that I have the funds to make it worth their while. Yes, I am lucky enough that I can, and do, do this successfully. But I am a citizen of this earth just like anyone else. We should all be granted the same freedoms. What is this world if not all of ours to discover?

If we can, we should. And we should be able to.

To my future child

To my future child,

I do not know you yet but I know that if and when you come along you will be borne out of love, and my love for you will be great. I will see my face in your eyes and want to protect you from the world that I have known. I have to warn you, it is a wild and unfair world out here. But it is beautiful, too.

You will explore. You will be born with a deep-seated desire to roam free. If you are anything like me you will find it hard to stay in one place for too long. You’ll go from running around the school playground to running across the globe in the blink of an eye. Never stop running. I hope you find everything you search for. Just remember: it is always better to run to something than to run away. Your little legs will never carry you so fast and far that you can run where your worries won’t find you.

You will be wise. In all your exploring and from all your family you will learn a great wealth of opinions. Remember that they are just that, and for as much as we think we know, you must always find your own answers and learn your own lessons. I won’t be able to teach you everything. You have to want to learn. Inquire, and knowledge is yours to acquire.

You will love. One day you will meet a boy or a girl who makes your heart flutter. You won’t understand it at first, you may fight it, but you will grow to love it. Above all you will grow to love him or her. You will want to share all the best parts of yourself with them; your roaming soul and wise mind, but also your most private laugh. Share yourself. You learn more about yourself in love than you can ever hope to by traveling through this world alone.

But you will get hurt. When you are still young you will fall and scrape your knee. If you’re anything like your grandfather you may break some bones falling out of a coconut tree. These physical injuries will teach you how to overcome pain. And that is a lesson you will need to learn. Because the only thing more painful than broken bones is a broken heart. Whomever you choose to love may not always love you in the same way. Or maybe you won’t always love them. For something so inspiring, love can be fickle and cruel. There is nothing in this world quite like your first heartbreak. I wish I could save you from it, even now, but know that this is a right of passage. First, they will help you find your heart in a crevice of your chest that you never thought to look. Then they may break it. They won’t do it on purpose, but if and when it happens it won’t be easy. Know that I will still love you, through your first and your last heartbreak (and any that come in between). Know that picking up the pieces is the most important part of growing up. You must first learn to love yourself before you can fall in love with another, but you must also learn to lose love before you truly appreciate it.

(Dear future child, I have not met your father yet. But I know that I will. And I know he will be a good man. He’ll teach me how to love myself in ways I can’t yet imagine. And I will be true to him, always honest and always devoted – no matter how hard it gets. These may sound like grand promises to your young ears, but when you know love you will know that honesty and devotion come easily with the right person. If they are not easy, the person is not right for you – and this may be the hardest lesson of all to learn.)

Above all you will be strong. I know this because I learned my strength from your grandmother, and she is the strongest woman in the world. She learned from her mother and I promise you I have never met a more inspiring woman than my grandma. If you are half the woman she was you will be M I G H T Y. You will learn from all my nagging lessons, but you will teach yourself the ways of the world too, and from that you will teach yourself how to survive: how to survive an embarrassing school performance or a disastrous expedition, and how to survive a bruised knee or a broken heart.

I believe in you.
I know all this because I learned not just from my mother, but from my own follies through this world. And you will too.

Thoughts from Places: Thailand, Land of Smiles

I have travelled. I have seen and experienced many places. But there are few places that have taken my heart so completely that I leave a part of myself behind, waiting for an opportunity to return. Barcelona has a part of me. Italy has a part of me. And now Thailand has a piece of me too. I am scattered, and I am more complete because of it.

The things you experience while in Thailand: the oppressive, thick heat. The sweat that collects on your chest and the small of your back and takes up permanent residence on your brow. The sand and dirt that cling to your feet and under your nails no matter how many times you wash your hands. The healthy distrust of all water that doesn’t come from a sealed bottle. The confusion of so many things happening at once, all the while trying to navigate on your own. The fear of the fire dancers getting too close with their dangerous tricks. The hungover mornings after nights of a little too much living in the moment. The overwhelming feeling of not wanting to leave.
The things you remember from Thailand, what you take with you when you leave: the excitement of finding your own way around, safely, and arriving at point B from point A (after two ferries, a bus, a flight, and a taxi ride in between). The Thai people that communicate through hand gestures and smiles but are always not just willing, but happy to help and to talk a while if you take the time to. The culture, with a new lesson every where you look about something that was foreign but now seems familiar. The happiness that is the driving force of the country, the bond in any interaction, the motivation for every action, the feeling in every moment. The fellow travellers you meet along the way that are like-minded and open hearted, making what could have been a lonely moment a new connection and a happy memory. The sunsets on the southern islands. A vibrating, all-encompassing motivation to return, to see more, do more, learn more, eat more, and love more.

10 days in Thailand: Temples, blessings, and Buddhist monks. A river tour & feeding fish. Street food and a magic show. A cooking class. A temporary tattoo. The hustle & bustle of a big city. An overnight train. Then, floating bungalows. Watching the sun rise over the lake as the clouds kiss the still water. Absolute serenity. More travel. An island. A sunset dinner on the beach and private party with strangers that turned into friends. A beach day, boat cruise, and snorkeling. Elephants: slow, gentle, playful, caring creatures. A Thai massage on the beach at dusk. Scuba diving off another island with new friends. Songkran New Year festivities back in the big city.

In the end it was not what I did, but who I did it with. Forming new friendships with old acquaintances, finding new companions in impossible crowds, feeling the security of lasting friendships after only knowing these people for one week.

Travelling is about seeing new places, gaining new perspective through new experiences, and broadening your mind and your horizons. But as well as all that, travelling is about who you meet, who accompanies you along the way through new countries and personal growth, and who you are by the end of it all.
I am happy. I’m adventurous and outgoing and I’m not afraid to start a conversation with a perfect stranger in hopes that by the end of it they will be a new friend. I am confident, comfortable enough in my own skin to wear that skin in new places all on my own. I am passionate in everything that I do because I’ve learned that if I’m not willing to give it my all then it is not worth my time. I am proud to say that this is who I am and who I hope to continue to be going into my 22nd year of life.

Who are you?
Travel, and find out.

Happiness, Part 2

Happiness Is…

Happiness (noun): the state of being happy.

To me, happiness is putting my feet up after a long day and enjoying a home cooked meal, a glass of wine, and a good book.

Happy (adjective): feeling or showing content.

As part of some preparation I’ve been doing for a research paper for my class in ‘The Philosophy of Happiness’, but mostly out of my own curiosity, I recently reached out to friends and family around the world via social media networking and asked them to answer the simple question ‘What is Happiness to you?’
This was not an attempt to define happiness; on the contrary, I am trying to understand it. What does it mean to other people and how can we hope to achieve it?
I had an overhelming response from good friends sharing with me their notion of happiness:

Happiness is…
-“Being surrounded by family and friends that care about me. I wouldn't be happy without them.”
-“Not necessarily having everything you want, but being so content with what you have or what you are doing that you don’t have this burning want for anything else.”
-“Living in the moment and worrying about repercussions later. Living the fullest, most exciting, most entertaining life possible because life is short and eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we (may) die!”
-“Happiness of others can trigger an incredibly powerful happiness within you.”
-“Appreciating all of the things you have and the people around you. Understanding how much they mean to you. Knowing that the world is full of amazing things and opportunities, and that every experience (good or bad) can improve who you are.”
-“Being mindful, at peace and grateful in moments when you maybe have reason not to be. Being happy no matter where you are, not because you're where you'd like to be. To me, happiness is not synonymous with perfection. Hah but things approaching perfection can easily make people happy.”
-“It’s easy to feel but hard to describe in totality. This may sound simple but it’s the only comprehensive definition I could think of. To feel positive about every aspect of life, even if some of those aspects aren’t where you'd like them to be, the majority are and as such those minority aspects cant bring you down.”
-“Feeling in control of your life and your circumstances.”
-“When my thoughts and beliefs are in sync with what I say and do”
-“Happiness is when you can't help but smile at this wonderful life -- when you get that whole body tingling of utter content with the world, with your life, and you consequently spill a little happy, a little love, and a little sparkle on everyone you encounter. Happiness is that glimmer in our eyes. You know it when you see it. And it’s hella contagious.”
-“Happiness is life in general.”

The hardest part about defining happiness, philosophically or otherwise, is the differentiation between feeling happy and living a happy life. One would assume that the former would lead to the latter. But feelings are fleeting, and if a moment of happiness passes with no lasting impact on your life as a whole, can it then contribute to a happy life overall? Contrarily, a happy life overall is most often measured in success, rather than accumulated feelings of happiness, and if a happy life is more about successfully accomplishing one’s desires and less about quantifying the amount of times or the measure of happy feelings one felt in their lifetime, then the fleeting feelings of happiness become unimportant and irrelevant.

I do not believe this is the case. It cannot be. Because feeling happy is the driving force for most actions and reactions. We desperately try to define happiness so that we can use that framework as a guidance for how to go through life and how to interact with others. We try to act in ways that would make others happy, and avoid actions we know would do the opposite. Or at least we should.

Happiness cannot be defined. It can’t be measured and it can’t be explained. It can only be felt. And though those feelings might be fleeting, we treasure them. We try each and every day to grasp that feeling for however long we are lucky enough to hold it.

Of all the friends that shared with me their notions of happiness, one stood out to me most:
“Happiness is a privilege. It is not constant. When you are truly happy, you may not remember to appreciate it because it is easy. It's soothing, it feels like everything is right in your world. But when you lose it, even temporarily, you remember that no one can be happy all day for their entire life. Happiness doesn't exist in a happily ever after sense. Happiness exists in perfect moments. Some moments last longer than others but it is such a blessing during that moment.”

How To Feel

I am currently reading a book about Sociopaths, written from the perspective of a diagnosed, high-functioning Sociopath. 'High-functioning' here means well integrated and non-violent.

Sociopath (noun) is defined as "a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behaviour and a lack of conscience."

What has struck me most about this book is the romantic notion of living without feeling. Of excelling in life because you are unaware of or uncaring about others. I find this fascinating, and almost desirable.
Sociopaths are a rare and select subset of people that go through life lacking empathy and free of emotions. Whether that is good or bad is open for interpretation. An even smaller group within that population become violent as a result of their disregard for other's feelings. They are either unaware of how their crimes will affect others, or they are conscious of their actions and choose not to care. These people are the exception, not the norm.

Either way, I have found that we, the greater majority of empaths, find a certain fascination in people that can seemingly turn their emotions off. 'Wouldn't that be nice?', we think, 'Wouldn't life be easier?'

We like to tell each other how to feel.

We with emotions go through life thinking that the best way to deal with our emotions is to ignore them. When someone is upset we say “there, there” and pat them on the back, assuring them that the moment will pass. The nauseating sadness is just a speed bump in the road, and if we keep driving without slowing down we’ll launch over it with ease and leave it in our wake.

We think that honesty is something to fear and that showing you care is a sign of weakness. We think that if we put others before ourselves we will never get ahead. That's why we romanticise the notion of controlling our own emotions to the point where we do not feel at all.
And why wouldn’t we think this way? Movies show us, the media tells us, and our friends reassure us that sadness of any kind is something to rise above, not to be indulged, and not to be dwelled on.

I think we’re wrong.

I think that our emotions are our most honest expressions of ourselves. We can kid ourselves and train ourselves and keep ourselves busy but as soon as we stop to catch our breath, whatever feelings catch up with you as you lie awake in bed at night, that’s who we are. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
We should not have to apologise for how we feel. We should not believe that hope is naïve and pain is disgraceful.

We feel what we feel because that is how we survive.
Without fear we would not know when to run from danger. Without passion we would not know excitement. Without happiness we would have no purpose. And without pain we would not understand the blissful feeling of finally being content.

If we were more honest with ourselves we may not move on from sadness as quickly but once we do we will have overcome, not just masked, the pain that snuck into our minds and our hearts. If we were more honest with each other we would not hurt the people we once cared about or mislead people that we are only just getting to know. If we were more honest we would embrace our sadness, not hide from it.

Truth is not always neat and satisfying. Truth is grim and painful but it is more productive than a façade. We the modern age have perfected the façade. Given the choice between empathy and sociopathy I would choose the more painful route. It's what makes me who I am.
What would you choose?

Thoughts from Places: Canberra

There is nothing like a bus ride through the vast Australian country-side and reading a book about Sociopathy to make you appreciate good friends.

Canberra is the capital city of the entire Australian continent. It was chosen for its location between Sydney and Melbourne, two major cities, but also because it lies inland and is therefore safe from attacks by sea. The word 'Canberra' means meeting place in local Aboriginal terms. This weekend Canberra was my meeting place; a weekend together after years apart.

I went to Canberra to visit friends from high school; a close friend I had not seen since we graduated almost four years ago, as well as one who left the school years before that. It had been four years since I'd seen the first friend, six years since I had seen the second, and 5 years of communication but never meeting yet another friend whom I was finally united with. It was a weekend of reunions. If I have learned anything in my short but thorough lifetime it is that friendship endures.

Friends are not just who you drink with when you want to have a good time, they are not just who you study with on a stressful night. They are so much more. Good friends are the people that are there for you on birthdays and send-offs. They are the hardest people to say goodbye to but the ones you know will love you no matter what you do or how silly you look. Friends are the ones you turn to in your hardest times, when you can’t decide if you want to be left alone or if you are lonely. They are the people that you can tell anything to, or go months without talking to and knowing without a doubt that your friendship will survive the silence; it will survive anything. True friends are there despite distance and time. Sometimes they are even there because of it.

Some of my greatest friends are the ones I have not lived close to in years. My two best friends and I each go to different universities in different parts of the country (or, in my case at the moment, on the other side of the world). But that has not changed the nature of our friendship in the slightest. If anything, distance brings you closer together, as you come to appreciate the other person in a way you take for granted when they are right by your side.

This may not be an award winning piece of writing, but I think it is something everyone knows. Go tell your best friend you love and miss them, even if you saw them yesterday. Friendship is a choice, one that we keep making over and over, no matter how far away they might be or how busy they are. Friendship is never a competition or a test, it is love in it's purest form. It is a meeting place.
Dear friends: I love you.

TaraTour Top 5

I tend to shy away from lists and advice on this blog. I feel more comfortable sharing my inner most thoughts than I do telling people what to do. Posting a list feels like a cop-out to me, too rudimentary, too much like work (I’m a planner and list person by day, travel and observation blog aficionado by night).
That being said, I spent the last couple days planning trips and excursions that I want partake on to make the most my time in Australia. I have a ten-day fantasy tour through Thailand, a weekend in Melbourne, and catching up with dear friends in Canberra all to look forward to. In doing this, I realise that I am fortunate enough to have personal experience traveling and planning trips and adventures. So I thought I would share.

1. Treat every trip as an adventure.
Whether it is a hiking day trip, a weekend in a familiar place, or a grand new expedition, go into it with the attitude that you have new things to learn even if it is an old place you’re seeing. Every day does not have to be magnificent, but you can find something extraordinary in even the simplest things you do.

2. Give yourself time to compare and evaluate the best options for planes, trains or automobiles.
The reality of the times is that traveling, as enriching and enjoyable as it is, can be very expensive. Finding the most affordable method of travel makes any trip more enjoyable knowing that you start with a good deal. For a short trip I usually compare busses, trains and flights to see which is most cost effective and convenient. For anything more monumental flight comparison websites likes skyscanner.com and onetravel make things quite easy these days. Check the average cost ahead of time, and compare different weekends to make sure that you are not getting ripped off due to busy seasons. If you can, be flexible.

3. Stay in a hostel or an air bnb for a more social, local experience.
Hostels are great for more than just the cheap rates. If you’re brave, hostels allow you to share not just your room but also your experience with like-minded, open, and adventurous people. Some, if not all, have bars and common areas for you to mingle in, and usually have events or at the very least employees that can help you get a feel for the area you are exploring. An air bnb, while more private, also allows for a level of connection to a local member of the community, and encourages you out of the tourist traps of hotels and into a much more organic feel for the city. Unless you are planning a luxurious weekend of pampering, hotels are over priced and limiting in your experience.

4. Get off the beaten track!
I cannot emphasise this enough. While tourist attractions are attractive for a reason, they are riddled with sightseers and tend to lack the essence of the every-day life of a city. If I aim to see the sights I am most likely to do a walking tour of the city in the least amount of time and then get out and explore on my own. The best possible way to learn about a place is to get lost. Keep a map for emergencies, but take your nose out of the page and stick it into the side streets, the local cafés, the nooks and crannies and favourite spots of the people that were born and raised in this place you chose to visit. If you are going to make a plan for while you are there, plan what NOT to do. Make a list of avoidable, unsafe, or unattractive areas and things so you know what to steer clear of. Everything else is free game. Strike up a conversation with people you meet, fellow travellers or otherwise, and see what they recommend. Learn about the area and the possibilities for not just where you are but what is going on while you are there.

5. Observe.
If simply to be aware of your surroundings so you stay safe (which is incredibly under-appreciated at times), or if it is taking your eyes off a map or your phone screen so you can get the most of your experience. Look around you. Watch how people interact; learn how the city was built and continues to live; find the popular areas; embrace culture shock; look out for happy people and I guarantee you their happiness will transfer to you so you will feel exuberant and open-minded.

As I said, I cannot hope to tell you what to do or how to do it. This is simply how I like to enhance my experiences abroad or otherwise. It is unrealistic to say that I live every day by these principles, but I certainly try to.

Happiness, Part 1

In the old English meaning of the word, gay is defined as ‘light- hearted and carefree’. This definition may be out-dated, but that does not mean that it is misguided.

This semester I am taking a class on the Philosophy of Happiness. I am devoting my time, both in my studies and in my every day life, not to simply defining happiness, but to understanding it.

A few nights ago Sydney held the LGBTQI Mardi Gras parade. This event was geared towards gay rights (in the modern meaning of the word) and equality. It succeeded, however, in drawing in a large crowd of people who were straight, curious, gay, unsure, or uncaring either way. It became less about the social implications of the parade and entirely about the general energy of the crowd – the gay atmosphere.
Following the parade, some friends and I went to a local bar to rest our legs and have a drink. There, I watched a group of lesbian women dance exuberantly at the back of the room. Whether they were celebrating the expression of their rights, or if they’d simply had a few more drinks than I had, I saw in them both meanings of the word: proud to share their love and sexuality with members of the same sex and light-hearted, happy, and carefree. They seemed to me to be the happiest people in the pub.

Happiness is impossible to define (though scholars and lay-people alike have tried time and time again). Happiness is not something merely to be studied and hypothesised about. It is more than the discrepancy between a psychological state and a successful lifestyle. It is an expression, an experience, it is an act as much as it is a feeling. It is both a fleeting moment and a way of life.

Happiness is whatever we make it. It cannot be defined because we each define it differently, through our own hopes and experiences. Through our successes and our failures. Whether it is loving someone (no matter what gender), or simply sitting down with a beer after three hours on your feet, one thing is certain: happiness is essential.

Moments

At this point in time I am sitting in the window seat of a small café on a busy street near my new home.

One month ago I was with my sister in Vancouver, Canada. One week ago I was under the stars on a secluded beach in Port Stephens, north of Sydney. One year ago I was in Boston, unable to imagine any of these places. I have no way of knowing where I will be one year from now, but for now I am here.

Life is made up of a series of moments. Each one can bleed into the next, yet each one is unique. Each moment we live we make a choice to embrace that moment for what it is: a single point in time. Unaffected by our past and each instant leading up to it; shaped by them, but not determined by them. Untainted by the moments yet to come and the uncertainty they hold.

What I have done, who I have been up until this point in time is significant. It is my life, thus far. But that does not mean it is who I am or who I need to be. The wonderful thing about moments is that they happen one at a time, and you can choose to embrace them as they come or wallow in the ones already past.
I have been sad, but that does not mean that I should feel sad now. I have been happy, but that does not mean I am happy now. At this point in time I am content, and that is all I need.

What I will do, who I will be is as of yet undecided. I have not decided because I do not need to decide that now. Even if I did, there is nothing to say that my decision will come to fruition. Plans are blueprints, but they are not a map. I have planned what I want to do and who I want to be, but I know life will happen whether I plan it or not.

At this point in time that is okay. I choose to embrace this entirely unique moment.