Home at last...

One Hundred and Fourty-Three days away from home, five countries, and a two trunks full of memories: I am back home in Canada armed with experience, maturity and all that other stuff. I have been working on a very long blog post for some time but it was getting too epic so I have decided to break them up in parts. Here is part one! Please note that my sentimental writing is at full throttle (but for good reason). That is all:

Hello Everyone.

So, I left Canada the day after St. Valentines Day and I arrived home on July 5th, the day after Independence Day. Maybe I am crazy but I think the theme of love and independence in the last six months of my life has been most prominent. It's no surprise then that I would find these trivial coincidences to be little reminders of things that I have been thinking about a lot lately.

On Independence:

I flew the nest on February 15th and I did it in a big way. I went across the world to live amongst a nation of wonderful people (for the most part anyway). I had a great time doing it too. I discovered a passion for experimenting in the kitchen (and then taking pictures of the result). I discovered the ocean and what it is like to go to school sans two jobs, a car and a family to fall back on all the time. For the first time, I tried kangaroo, squid, scallops, mussels, shark, haloumi cheese, dukkah (which tastes like an old man) and cheesecake straight from the freezer. I went Australian tobogganing and I drank salty sea water. I met some of the greatest people I'll ever meet. I navigated two major cities (Sydney and Melbun') and got a slice of what it's like being truly self-sufficient.

Then in June, I went to Malaysia, Thailand and Bali. Jesus Christ. Asia! My best friend joined me in Australia on the third and the next day we were off to Singapore. Our first day was a bit of a disaster-- weather wise. It was like I had never seen rain before... or at least a downpour to such a grand scale. Still, we braved the rain (which was warm) and navigated our way through the Little India district. I bought a blue plastic poncho in Oz that I was dreading pulling out. Plastic ponchos are the rainy gear equivalent to a fanny pack. This one I had taken with me was particularly bad... so it was only fitting that half-way through the day I figured out I had shoved my head through one of the arm holes rather than the hooded top. I still blame Jen for making me look more ridiculous than need be.

Melaka was our next stop and the starting point of our Malaysian experience. A trend that started in Melaka and that did not end until we were back in Australia was the poor quality of sidewalks. May not sound that bad but I had to constantly watch my footing. One minute I was walking along just fine and then the sidewalk would open to a gaping hole with only a makeshift piece of rotting wood or plastic planked across the opening. Sometimes the sidewalk would just be a pile of rocks or broken concrete. Sometimes it was just easier walking on the road and risk getting picked off by a motorcycle or taxi.

After Melaka, we headed to Kuala Lumpur. KL had the nice mix of big city and village. Our hotel was based in China Town where the scary hawkers cat call, grab, whistle and sell knock-off product. It was my first experience with that kind of interaction and, for the most part, it was pretty funny. I got everything from "Hey baby!" to just a simple "kiss-kiss" smacking noise. Nothing made me want to buy a fake Chanel purse until I heard a man with greased back hair say, "Hey sexy! Babaaay, look at these purses! Muah Muah!" Not.

KL also had beautiful handmade art and crafts. It also had some amazing food. Almost every place we ate was on the street and so it was like "dinner and a show." While eating something that was called "fried carrot cake" I watched a dog taking a nap on top of a vehicle and a man who walked around with his leg behind his head. Pretty amusing and disturbing.

Our last dinner in KL was probably one of the most memorable. We were eating on the road again across from a hawker stall selling fake designer bags. The gentleman who was running that particular stand had these piercing eyes that bordered psycho-killer. He was chain-smoking and starring at me without much blinking. For some reason, if one has crazy eyes, one has no need for blinking. I don't understand that. Regardless, I noticed early on that I was the subject of his gaze. I tried to ignore it. (You've got to most of the time since meeting someone's gaze somehow means you want to buy something).

Anyway, this was going on throughout the meal. I turned to Jen to let her know of what was going on and she looked at him and laughed out loud when he wouldn't stop starring at me. I was panicked but I was also flattered. I mean... there were a lot of white girls around, yet somehow I was special. I think I could be charmed by a lot of serial killers-- honestly. At one point, he gestured to say that my eyes were nice. I looked down about the time that he got bashful and smiled to his friend.

After we finished eating, we decided to go to a Reggae Bar around the corner. I told myself not to turn around and look at Psycho Killer but I did and I could tell he was trying to tell me something. To what it was, I will never know and probably for the best.

Part two to come shortly!