The Backpacker: World-Wide Nomad

So far I’ve been talking a lot about experiences I’ve had, stories of my travels so to speak, so I wanted to get a bit more into observations I’ve made, aspects of my life abroad. Living at a hostel in a popular travel destination, I meet a lot of backpackers; in case you’re unfamiliar with the concept, a backpacker is someone who travels for an extended period of time with nothing but what they can fit in one big ass backpack and whatever amount of money it is they have to fund their adventures. If you’ll indulge me, I want to talk just a bit about what I’ve be able to see and learn while living in this culture.

Backpacking is obviously not an obscure pastime. We have all heard about “backpacking across Europe,” though few of us have actually done it. By “us” I mean Americans. Nobody ever takes holidays for longer than 2-3 weeks. Any more is shocking, worthy of a going away party and a teary goodbye. In so many other places in the world, going abroad to travel, not just for 4 weeks, but 4 months (or 5 or 6 or 12…) is a common occurrence.

These people, some as young as 18, most in their 20s, go from country to country, explore the insane number of places and things there are to see abroad. Most of these people are European, which means they’ve seen Europe by now. They go to Asia, they go to Oceana, they go to South America, some even go to the states (and they realize a shocking number of us don’t even have passports..) Some get jobs along the way, working to save enough money to continue traveling, and some just have plenty of money already. They go for part of a gap year between highschool and university, they go for summer breaks, they go after graduating from university, just generally some time when they’re not tied down.

Lots of people travel for different reasons. Some people seem to just want to see how many different countries they can get drunk in, and they bring their party with them everywhere they go (whether the locals like it or not). Some just want to get away from their parents for a while, see what other things the world has to offer, see what other people the world has to offer.

Everybody has a reason though, some more impressive than others, but all part of what make up this crazy culture. I made good friends with a girl named Beth (not a replacement RCF, just another person named Beth) from Portland, one of the few Americans I’ve met in Thailand. She is 26, and an architect by trade. Normal recession time story: got laid off because the company couldn’t afford to keep her on because it wasn’t getting enough business. Rather than getting bogged down in a soul-crushing confidence-shattering job search for a job that may not even exist at the moment, she took the opportunity to be free, get out and see what there is to see while she has the time. As of May she’ll have been traveling for 1 year. That’s a long time to live without your own bed. But it’s an experience that most will never get/take the opportunity to do, and it has changed her life.

One of my best friends here, Jack from Hertfordshire, England, has gone a bit further. He’s sold nearly all his things from home, and come abroad looking to start a new life altogether. He’s going from country to country, scoping things out and finding out where he would like to live in the near future, even if just for a year at a time, maybe even less. Wherever he does settle down for a while, he wants to be able to surf there, but he’s willing to consider anything. He has the entire world to choose from. He’s the definition of a “free spirit”, as lame as that term sounds.

I’ve also spent a lot of time hanging out with a guy named James from Peterborough, England, whom I have since dubbed “Jimbo Slice”. Jimbo is a mildly dorky dude, but you can’t really tell due to his accent and his quick dry British wit. He’s just recently begun his journey which he plans to continue for at least a year, with tickets already booked all across Asia, the South Pacific, Australia, and the US. He’s just the sweetest bro you’ll ever meet, couldn’t hurt a fly. Jimbo’s father just died not too long ago; he fell from a ladder at work and broke a rib, puncturing his lung. This puncture poisoned his pancreas, and after a life of smoking, his other lung was not strong enough to make up for the loss of the other. He lasted for a while, but eventually his body simply couldn’t keep up. This would be devastating for anyone, but Jimbo is also epileptic, and his seizures are often brought on by stress. His father’s death came shortly before the end of the school semester, right before finals, and the medication can only do so much. I talked to one of his best University friends, and he said the paramedics where frequently at their house around this time; Jimbo was having a seizure on the front porch, Jimbo had seized in the shower and hit his head on the wall, on and on. He also talked about how the first 2 years of college, Jimbo almost never talked, even to his friends. He would just sort of hang out, watch. Now he’s meeting new people, he’s a confident young dude, self-affirmed and out in the world. He wants to meet people, he wants to make up for lost time, he wants to live life while he still can.

 Beth, Jimbo Jones, Jackery

Everybody is looking for something. Something different, something life changing, something like peace. The best ones aren’t just looking with their eyes, their looking with their hearts and their souls. They’re not just taking pictures and getting fucked up, they’re not just pillaging their destinations, they’re feeling them; they’re becoming a part of some place in some way for some amount of time.

It’s beautiful, it’s transient, it’s impermanent. Sounds like Life.