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Published: February 22nd 2008
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High Tide At Nungwi Beach - Zanzibar
I'd upload more photos, but this is Africa...land of slow computers and internet connections. Game Over As I wrote about before, it first hit me way back in September. That little enemy of long-term travel...
weariness. But back then I thought - correctly - I had the cure...change things up - location, climate, scenery, activities, etc. So I decided to press on. I got to Nepal and all was well again.
Having spent 3 months in Nepal in relative stability - meaning a long period of limited new inputs, not un/packing my bag every day, not meeting new folks all the time, and generally settling down a bit - I expected to be fully charged and ready to hit the trail again. I was.
But on day 2 of my high-energy assault on the sites of Delhi, the weariness-enemy hit me with an unexpected sucker-punch...only 36hrs removed from Nepal and I was tired and not interested in what I had planned for the afternoon. So instead I just kept hanging out at Jama Masjid and chatted with locals. Good enough solution at the time.
A few days later I found myself not particularly interested in the ancient temples of Khajuraho through which I was wandering. They were cool and all...but
weariness landed a couple more solid jabs. I still managed to force myself to see them all and take more photos than I cared to, but that was the point at which I realized that perhaps my Nepali recharging plan didn't work like I expected. At the time I thought that perhaps it was just time to be done with Asia. I
had to stick around the north and be cultural until the Magh Mela, but after that I blew off my other India plans and headed for Goa and the beach. Africa and 2 weeks with Dad would be the next solution.
Getting to Africa was good, but I knew that
weariness was nearing the knock-out blow when I couldn't even muster the energy to do anything to experience the Maasai (traditional Tanzanian and Kenyan tribal culture). It was all around me and seemed like it would be fascinating to look into...but I just couldn't get myself to care. I still held onto a hope that after Kili and safari with Dad that some time chilling on the beaches of Zanzibar would be the next magic elixir.
Dad left and I found myself reeling from the final attack. I was in a hotel room that got 2 TV channels...one was showing a really bad Tanzanian show and the other was showing Barney - the annoying purple dinosaur kids' show. I pretty much knew it was over when I actually considered watching Barney as an acceptable way to pass some time. The demographically-balanced cast of kids taught me some great lessons about being happy with what I have and the joys of helping others. It's about this time that I start thinking, "
What's the number for American Airlines?"
At first I thought that maybe it's like the last portion of an endurance race (marathon, triathlon, whatever) - you reach the final bit (say mile 22 of 26.2 in the marathon) and you're hurting...but the end is in sight. Just push through the trials and endure. Can't give up now, right? Well...I don't necessarily equate traveling through Africa to something that I could (should?) just push through. There's no point in going through the motions if I'm not going to appreciate what I'm seeing. There was no hard and fast finish line...just a variety of ideas of potential options. And considering that nearly no other part of the journey has gone how I thought it might, why should the last bit?
Don't get me wrong. It's not like I haven't still enjoyed my time in India and Africa...I wasn't worn-out
all the time. But before leaving on this crazy gig, I had said that I'd try to be aware of my energy/emotions/etc and try to recognize that if it's over, it's over. Well...I've concluded that my exhaustion at this point isn't the type that is cured by a week (or 2) on the beach. It's simply my mind, body, & spirit having had enough for one go and now it's time to pack it in. So...stick of fork in me, game over, mama I'm comin' home, that's all she wrote, I'm spent/wiped out/cashed/tired/done, the jig is up, the tank is empty, it's the end of the road, yadda yadda yadda...
1.800.GET.HOME After 3 phone methods (land-line, mobile, & internet), $14, 2 AA agents (amazingly I got the same one twice), and 2 frustrating hours - the reservation was made for my return. I'll be happy to never have to attempt another international phone call from Africa.
At first I was hesitant about making the call to American Airlines to book the flight. It means letting go of some things & places that I wanted to experience - will I ever make it to those places? It means accepting that this amazing thing would soon be over. It means facing the uncertainty of what's next when I actually do get home.
But past this initial hesitancy, I became more and more certain that it was the right move. It means all the things above, but it also means more. It means I'll soon hold my niece, Noelle, whom I've not yet met. It means I'll soon get to see the smiling face of Noelle's big sister, Hope. It means I'll be there for Chloe's (1st) and Irene's (3rd) birthdays. It means I'll see friends and family that I haven't seen for nearly a year. And...it means that I'll be able to bring the full force of my metabolism to the Chipotles of the Chicagoland area...mmm...steak burrito...
How To Come Back? A friend of mine recently asked me:
"
How you make sense of the world after you've traipsed across a small part of it like you have? How do you come home? How do you climb Kilimanjaro and see the Killing Fields and meet fabulous people and see some Indian dude sit on his penis and then just come back?"
I don't know.
But I've spent the last 11 months constantly adapting to new places, cultures, and people. So I'm anticipating that I should be able to adapt to a familiar place/culture/people.
Will that place, that culture, and those people look different to me after these 11 months?
Will I look different to them? (Other than the beard, of course)
So many more questions to ponder...
I Look Good With A Beard Someone said to me before the trip that maybe I'd come home a completely different person. Another friend recently said it will be interesting to see how much I've changed. Frankly, I still feel like me...me with a good tan, that is. But I guess you can be the judge of all that.
If you're really smart... ...you can see through the whole smokescreen above and will realize that I just wanted to get home in time for the best time of the year - March Madness. (Though let's just not talk about the tourney absence of my Illini...sniffle)
I suppose that does it for this entry. Don't worry, I'll come up with all sorts of things to blabber about in another entry in some sort of attempt at wrapping this whole thing up. If you thought I could ramble on and on about 2 weeks worth of things...wait until you see my attempt at 11 months.
There's No Place Like Home Well now I guess all I have to do is close my eyes, click the heels of my flip-flops together 3 times, and float back to sweet home Chicago where I can eat Chipotle and Giordanos to my heart's content.
It's sunny and 80's (26-32C) in Chicago too, right?
See you on March 1st.
Marc
I almost forgot...I need to tell you about Zanzibar. Ready for it?
Zanzibar is beautiful.
That's all I've got.
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Cam Wisler
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Homecoming...
Welcome home, cuz!