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Published: November 6th 2006
Mr. Cowboy
This guys fellow rickshaw drivers thought it was halarious that I was taking a photo of the driver while he was asleep. "Sleeping Beauty," they all laughed. But then one piped up to inform me hes known as Mr. Cowboy.I met Marcus in Melaka. He peered through the dormroom doorway and, seeing he had company, came forward to offer a friendly handshake and cheesy grin. From that point on, the usual onslought of traveler queries ensued:
- Where are you from?
- When did you arrive here?
- How long are you staying?
- Where will you go next?
- What would you recommend around here?
- How much does that cost?
- How long are you traveling for?
- What did you think of the last place?
- What will you do in the next place?
- How will you get there?
- How much does that cost?
And so on, and so forth.
As our well tailored and familar conversation progressed, we discovered - rather unsurprisingly - that we were both headed to Bali.
"So, what is there to do in Indonesia then?" I can't even remember who asked the question.
In an automatic and simultaneous response, we both reached into our bags and produced the exact same Lonely Planet guide: Southeast Asia On A Shoestring - Big Trips on Small Budgets; 2006 edition. His copy was well worn and dog eared - it looked
as though pages were missing and additional travel tips scrawled throughout. Mine, on the other hand, looked almost brand new and required close inspection to notice the crease marks along the cover.
It would suggest from appearances alone that he had attended each destination from cover to cover of that book while I'd been kicking back on some pleasure cruise, or worse - sitting at home. It could also be concluded that he had some trouble taking good care of the book, or that it had been preloved and pretraveled before it ever reached Marcus. And that I was, in fact, far too intrepid a traveler to rely on advice offered to the masses by virtue of the Lonely Planet. Whatever the case was, it pained me to think that he knew more about my beloved SE Asia than I did.
In the moments that followed, we each thumbed through the pages in search of Indonesia's greatest highlights. He found the section before I did.
"Page 149"
"Oh - thanks," I mumbled.
There was concentrated silence as we skimmed through the chapter and studdied the map.
"You going to Kota?" he asked.
Where the hell was Kota??
"Yeah
- probably,"
I tried to speedread through 'Java'.
"What about Gunung Bromo?" he asked again.
"Where?"
"You mean you've never heard of those Indonesian volcanoes?"
"Oh... the volcanoes, of course," I lied. " I just didn't know where they were"
I was starting to get a bit agitated. It didn't even matter that neither of us had been there - it was that he knew stuff and I didn't. I thought maybe I should try to sound intelligent.
"Hey, what about that amazing temple over in uh.. bora - something," I fumbled through the book, hoping the name would suddenly appear so I could make a quick recovery.
"Borobudur," Marcus corrected.
"Right."
"I could take it or leave it really, I'm so templed out."
"Oh yeah, me too."
I tried to act casual. Why as this bothering me so much? And then he continued:
"But I'm definatly going to the Gili islands. I met these people who had been there and they said it was amazing, such beautiful beaches!"
He didn't wait for me to answer.
"Page 281."
That was it. I'd had enough of this guide book who-knows-more-than-who war, mostly because I was losing. I decided to change
the subject.
"Hey do you wanna go get a drink or something?"
Much to my relief he was happy to set the guide books down.
"Yeah, its getting a bit stuffy in here, lets go."
The thing is, I've been pondering those few minutes ever since they occured. It has led me to consider what it means exactly to be a traveler. Often unemployed, usually fairly skint, lonely at times, hungry at times, tired a lot of the time. Although it may take some breaking in, you become accustomed to bus-ride-numb-ass, balancing over squat pots and frequenting that well known hostel chain called 'seedy'. There are always clothes to be handwashed, heat to be tollerated, insects to avoid, and taxi drivers who drive as hard a bargin as you do. On the flip side however, there are numerous moments, days, months and even years that you enjoy so much, you just keep coming back for more.
Most of us, at one time or another, have experienced this travel bug. For some, multiple round-the-world trips is the only cure. For others with a far milder case of cabin fever, a simple walk around the block will suffice. I
don't mean to compare the two, but merely to illustrate the fact that all people have different interests, needs and priorities. For me there is only one which is undoubtedly a life devoted to travel.
My conversation with Marcus sparked a series of intriguing thoughts, with one in particular: The Traveler Phenomenon. He looked every inch the part. Unkempt hair - overgrown, underwashed; beaded necklace; woven bracelets; exceptionally tan; worn clothes and jandals that had moulded to the shape of his feet. With his backpack on and his travel guide in hand, was he not the perfect image of the adventurous and intrepid traveler?
What I have noticed along my journey so far, especially in SE Asia, is that there is this unspoken traveler code. It states that darkness of tan is directly proportional to length of travel. Length of travel is directly proportional to local knowledge gained. Therefore, the darker your tan, the more you know. These tanned travel gurus amass this knowledge, usually over 2 - 3 weeks in a country before they must impart their wisdom on to the nieve and white newcomers - telling tales of beautiful beaches and tropical forrests. In one final
Christ Church
Overlooking the town square valliant effort, they look to the whites and say:
"Here, take this torch. I have carried it for so long and I now know so much. Go my friend - get a tan."
And thus continues the tourist trail as we know it today.
But a tan is not the only attribute a travel guru must obtain. There is a distinct SE Asia travel fashion that must be complied with in order to command the utmost respect. There are several variations to this uniform but the most popular varieties include: fisherman pants, red bull/ beer lao shirts, T-shirts which read 'same same but different', cloth bags, headscarves and the rest is up to individual choice. Now, you'll sometimes notice that travel companions choose to purchase the exact same clothes and then wear them on the same day. I think they are trying to say:
"WE are together! WE are a team!"
Unfortunatly what other people hear is:
"WE are really, really gay!"
After the tanning and clothes selection comes the branding process. This can be achieved in any place where inexperienced driver and motorbike meet. It takes on any form of cut, graze, gash - that sort of
Peacock Rickshaw
All the rickshaw drivers go to great lenghs to decorate their bikes in the most colourful, flowery and gaudy decorations. thing. But the most popular by far is an oval burn to the inside of the right calf - its what I like to call the tourist tattoo.
Last, but not least, its all about the attitude. That been-there-done-that-so-I-know-it-all sort of attitude. There was a guy sitting next to me on my flight from Bangkok to Singapore last week. He was from Sri Lanka. He spent the first half of the flight trying to get my attention. Could he borrow a pen, did I need any water. I pretended to be asleep. But sooner or later I got sucked into a very tedious and unwanted conversation. A particular low point was when he pulled out his passport, thinking I might like to see his passport photo. Then it turned out to be nothing to do with the photo at all - he wanted to show me his extensive visa collection. He flicked through the pages, trying to be all casual and give the appearance of a well traveled man.
"Oh see look - I've been to Germany, England, China, US... so soon I will be needing to get the passport's extra pages!"
And thats the attitude I'm talking about.
Rickshaw Tunes
Some rickshaws are so cool that they've even rigged up a sound system so you can ride along to the likes of Bob Marley or Malaysian disco. For most it takes on a much more subtle form. Travel talk over a drink, on the train, whatever. Its still that countries-I've-been-to list, like you somehow want to the other person to know that you're up to their travel standard and experience. Its a common guru practice and can even result in a guru to guru showdown. But there will always be someone who has climbed higher, dived deeper, trekked further and eaten more bugs than you have.
So, I guess for me, meeting Marcus made me think about what it is I'm doing here. It made me wish I could put the answers to all those standard questions onto a card and hand it out. It made me wish I'd done some reading on Indonesia. But, much more than any of those things it made me appreciate the individual experience of travel. I don't to go to every tourist destination just because the Lonely Planet suggests to, nor do I take the advice of every tan guy I meet either. Yeah, I may be a little competetive when people start telling me their country list or offer me travel tips on Thailand especially. But I have learned
so much from other travelers, and learned just as much on my own. Its that good advice/bad advice filter we gurus have to employ. Well folks, I'm off to work on my tan...
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Laetitia
non-member comment
Deep thinking on travelling....always a pleasure to read!