Decision to Travel
One last wave before catching our flight back to Irvine. That was what I told myself before the wave that ended up taking me too far into the shallow reef. The Hawaiian ocean water, at the perfect refreshing temperature of not being too hot or cold, stood slightly above my knees, which forced me to stand up. This was my mistake. It felt like I had stepped on some sharp rocks, probably acquiring some small scratches and cuts like I usually do whenever I surf at my usual San Onofre, my usual home spot. This was nothing compared to the piercing pain from when I was stung by a stingray. In this moment, I had no choice but to climb back on my neon pink rental board and paddle back out into a deeper point in the water. The current and each passing wave was pushing me closer to the rocks. Once far enough back in the water so that I was passed the break, I sat up on my board to assess the damage. I discovered to see what looked like about 10 broken pieces of pencil lead jammed into my foot. It turns out that I stepped on a sea urchin.
The local urgent care doctor told me that surgically removing the spines would not be worth it. If I soaked my foot in vinegar twice a day for 10 minutes, the spines would naturally disappear. For the next month until the spines were removed, I was unable to place pressure on my left foot without pain. Once routine activities like grocery trips to Trader Joe’s and subway rides to the office now made my foot throb and swell. I was stuck in my apartment, unable to partake in the usual exhilarating New York ventures that made living in my three story East village walk-up worth it. The free time that I had to sit and reflect, made me realize how much I took my health for granted. Every complaint I used to have felt minuscule relative to my current immobile disposition. I realized how easily life changing accidents can poof, just happen to anyone and everyone. My not temporarily being able to walk was ill comparison to all the possibilities of how much worse it could be.
One of my favorite writers, William Finnegan, interviews and writes a piece about big wave surfer and family physician that studies cancer named Mark Renneker. In the piece, there’s a particular quote by Mark that struck me.
“The funny thing is, I’m not really interested in cancer,” Mark says. “I’m interested in people’s response to it. Heart disease—cardiovascular disease, stroke, arteriosclerosis, heart attacks, hypertension—kills three times as many people as cancer does. But if you ask people what they fear most the answer you hear most is cancer. And when someone actually has cancer it really strips away the bullshit. Akira Kurosawa made a great movie—‘Ikiru,’ which means ‘To Live’—about a man who discovers he has a terminal cancer and who only then finally sets out to live. A lot of cancer patients and survivors report that they never really lived till they got cancer, that it forced them to face things, to experience life more intensely.”
I recognize that my incident was nowhere near as serious as cancer. But what if this had been a permanent injury? Or if I did find out that I did have cancer? Would I be living my life differently?
I began to think about where I was in my career, in my life. I loved living in New York, but I knew that I did not I did not want to spent more than 60 hours a week working as a consultant. While the job did afford me a comfortable lifestyle, deep down, I felt that the majority of the projects that the firm I worked for took on did not align with my own ethics and values. Helping corporations prioritize profits or encouraging customers to live more materialistic life in an already hyper consumerist society, shockingly, was not what brought me the most joy in life. If I found out I had cancer and had only a year left to live, you would probably find me spending my time would loved ones and chasing days of endless fun and exhilaration. If I did choose to work, I would rather be spending my time contributing to a cause I believed in whether it was pushing for more government support in addressing climate change or advocating for women’s rights. Time is the most valuable priceless gift that all of us humans living have. I was not going to wait until I more seriously got injured to push me to finally live my life.
Chang Mai, Thailand 2017 - On my last free weekend in Thailand, I did my first completely solo weekend travel trip and signed up for an elephant sanctuary tour. This photo was taken by the British woman sitting across from me, on the truck ride to the sanctuary.
At 19, I went on my first international trip without adult supervision for a 6 week English teaching volunteer opportunity in Thailand. This was the trip that first piqued my curiosity to not just go on vacation, but actually travel. To embrace the hardships of being immersed in an unfamiliar culture as much as the delights from trying new fruits that you did not even know existed. Monday through Friday was spent attempting to help Thai elementary students learn to say simple greetings or foods in English, and Friday evening to Sunday night was spent exploring different parts of the country. On the first free weekend that I had to see other regions of Thailand, my friend Natasha and I took a ferry to hike and sun bathe on the beaches of Koh Chang, which meant “Elephant Island” in Thai. The hostel we stayed at the first night was so disgusting that we ended leaving after the first night. Despite, we ended up meeting our first solo backpacker, a lady from Australia who shared how she was nonchalantly taking a few months to solo travel Asia. As the naive and enthusiastic Americans that Natasha and I were, we were baffled that young people, let alone females, went on these long backpacking trips, with no itinerary, no plan, except to learn more about themselves and the world. More weekend excursions exposed me to even more travelers going on their own trips spending months away from their home. If I could come to Thailand by myself and interact with, cross paths with these brave, adventurous souls, then I knew that could make an extended trip possible for myself as well.
When I hurt my foot I was just four months shy of hitting my two years in consulting, the typical amount of time that other analysts spend at the firm to get that first promotion and then re-evaluate the next steps in their career. The longer I spent at the firm, the more I learned more about the type of projects we did, and the more conflicted I felt about what the societal implications were. I found a list that I coincidentally made five months before my sea urchin incident called “Goals Before 30.” What steps was I taking to reach these goals? I thought back on the times in my life that I felt the happiest, doing what I loved and growing in the ways that I wanted to. The moment that came to mind was when I spent about three weeks earlier that year in Costa Rica, learning Spanish in an immersion program and then surfing at a week long camp in Tamarindo. While I was still young and cheerful enough to embrace both physically and mentally exhausting myself, I wanted more moments like these: experiencing a new culture, sharing drinks with other young travelers, and surfing my brains out.
Once I came to the realization that an extended trip of travel was the next chapter of my life that felt right, I thought okay, logistics, what do I need to do to make this happen. I need two things: time and money. If I wanted extended time, the only way that I could make this work was by quitting my job. The three weeks of PTO and Holiday leave would not be enough. And if I wanted to fund this trip without income, I would need to save money. I left New York after my lease ended to save money. I am endlessly grateful to my parents who let me, free of charge, stay under their roof and enjoy a fridge fully stocked by my mother’s Costco and Hmart runs. I also am fortunate to not have any student loans, which allowed me to put all my income from my consulting job towards my travels.
There were some rocky moments in my departure from my job, but other than that, I find myself a year later today writing this piece out at a bar in Amsterdam, in the midst of living out this dream that I made come true. During this time, away from home, there are some objectives I hope to get out of my travels, in no particular order.
Learn to better love and respect the planet
Learn about and respect other cultures
Be kind and respectful to others
Be kind and respectful to myself (physically and mentally)
Improve storytelling, photography, writing, and video editing skills
Improve communication and conversational skills
Have fun :)
