One who wanders but does not write, or one that writes but does not wander is easy; but being an aspiring wander writer is not. Why a wander writer, you may ask. An unusual label for one to call oneself, you think. I don’t exactly travel, you see. I don’t have the quintessential gears of a traveller and most of my adventures consist of habitual wandering and an occasional stumbling.
Anyway, two months have flown by yet my pathetic blog bears no new entries that detail the itinerary of my travels. It stands as lonesome as before, without an author nurturing it after it’s birth ; not even a clever quote or an insightful anecdote. Many friends and random strangers have stumbled upon my website and then send me emails of complaint, lamenting my lack of presence in the blog sphere. In response, I’d usually remedy the situation with excuses like I don’t have a laptop; internet cafes are difficult to find; I don’t have 24 hr access to ADSL and the list stretches long and vast like a Christmas list. But who I am really kidding? Mr. Bonsey, a brilliant wordsmith, once told me that, a writer can only call themselves one when they have finished writing a book.
“A book ? ” I gulped.
* * *
My head usually hangs low in shame whenever someone asks me what I do for a living, and I reluctantly admit that I’m a writer. While my confession of my profession would usually evoke a response of awe and wonder from the person who asked, and I usually cringe in response, embarrassed, thinking silently how I’d call myself a writer when I could hardly update something as simple as my personal blog. If my personal blog is in a perpetual hiatus, what does it say about me as a writer? If I can’t even compose a weekly or a fortnightly entry, what makes me think that I eventually write for Conde Nest Traveler, Travel + Leisure or even the local travel periodicals? What gives me the right to give myself the title of a writer when I don’t even write? Every night, I’d dream of Pico Iyer, Rolf Potts, Tony & Maureen Wheeler, Gregory Robert Jones, Paul Theroux and Tim Cahill marching me to the lightless dungeons after finding out that I’m a fraud. However, it isn’t just the nightmares. A friend of mine, a professional photojournalist whose articles have been published in one or two local lifestyle magazines, once reprimanded me for being lazy, inconsistent and lack of focus. Mr. J scolded me that I should discipline myself and put myself in the habit of writing. Find a story that I’m passionate about and write about it. I can’t just sit on my big fat ass and use the word ‘writer’ as a noun when I don’t even use it as a verb. I have to actively find story angles and communicate it to the world. It’s not enough, just getting writing assignments from my editor and then going out to do it. Depending on the credibility and the creativity of the publication staff, if I don’t work an extra mile and add a dash of initiative in writing my own stories, I’d never be able to make a breakthrough in my writing career. A spot in Time, National Geographic or a book that I author will not automatically land on my lap if I don’t sweat blood and tears for it. Mr. J further added that if I ever list him as one of my referees in my CV, what exactly can he tell my potential employers? Yes, I can say that you have the talent, the creativity and the wit that you can put to good use in your writing career, but have you got the passion, the vision and a responsible character to match? Can I say that you have the initiative and the focus if you’re so easily distracted? It was one of the harshest advice that I’ve ever received over the MSN, but it was not said without concern. The very first time I saw you write, I could tell that you have the stuff to go far, but what’s the point if you don’t use it? Write with passion and focus, Ying…just like the first few letters you wrote to me.
* * *
My acquaintance with Mr. Bonsey then proved to not only to be pleasurable but also inspiring. He was only 30 years old when I met him, and already, he can speak 4 languages fluently: English, Spanish, Japanese, Thai and has a number of professional experiences tucked under his belt. He was a broadcast sports journalist, a professional Jap/Eng translator and an avant-garde writer. I also suspect that he modelled on casual basis because he bears an uncanny resemblance to Justin Timberlake. He modestly described himself as an aspiring artist even though he had several short stories published in some online journals that only those in the exclusive American literary circles would know. At that time of our acquaintance, he was also in the midst of writing a descriptive novel, based on Thailand. I met Mr. Bonsey in Chiang Mai, where he offered me his small, black leather couch to be my temporary home for a couple of days. We also rented a car together for a road trip Mae Sot and Mae Sariang. Thailand. Together, we explored the cultural and political dichotomy in Mae Sot. Anyway, when I was around, Mr. Bonsey was at his busiest. Nonetheless, he would wake up early every morning to add at least 1000 words to the story that he’s working on. Everywhere we go, he’d constantly take down notes of the scene around him. Those random descriptions will eventually land on the pages of his book. Inspired, I thought I’d try. In the beginning of my journey, I’ve purchased a green leather-bound journal. Every page is crisp and fresh, inviting the ink of my pen to dance on it. However, not being used to pen and paper after long periods of using the keyboard, I gave up after a while. Every time when I find myself writing awkwardly, with dangling modifiers and grammatical no-no’s, I’d put stash away my journal and hope that I could find a computer where I can upload my thoughts. However, by the time I could find one, my ideas will evaporate. Nothing could bring them back again and I’d hit a wall, again.
My host Justin-we were on our way to Mae Sot (border between Thailand and Myanmar)
Justin’s pad and couch
However, not too long after that, I also purchased Shantaram- a novel based on true experiences of an Australian ex-convict who escaped the torture of prisons and ended up in Bombay while on his way to Germany. It’s a 900 pages worth of Bollywood drama, written by Gregory James Roberts, who was a writer before he became one of Australia’s most wanted man. The book made me yearn to immortalise my travel adventures into words. His poetic capability to put words into a rhythmic prose invoked a flood of admiration in me. Also, I found I could relate to the experiences that he’d write about.
“Every day, when you’re on the run, is the whole of your lie. Every free minute is a short story with a happy ending.”
The prose left a huge impact on me. Even though I’m not on the run, I feel like I’m living on borrowed cash. I don’t have a job hence no secure income, I wander from destination to destination hence without a home and if I don’t find something to sustain my travels soon, I’d be forced to turn back and return to square one.
And then it struck me that, if Mr. Jones could write about his larger than life adventures, perhaps I should attempt one as well. I realised that I do have the juice and gossip for a book’s content, if only I’d take some time to write.
However, Mr. Wang, one of the more interesting colleagues that I had, told me that instead of taking that big leap, why not keep a blog? “Ying, you’re the only one who’s on constant motion. I bet you have tonnes of gossip to share! A book? That’s ancient methodology, girl. If you want to be heard, get it out online. I’m surprised you’ve yet to take advantage of the wonders of technology. And these days, people make money from it. Come on, heave your ass and work on it!”
After much rumination, I decided to go back to Kuala Lumpur for a while so that I could get my brother’s old laptop. It’s a chunky machine that runs on a Pentium 3 and has less than 20G of hard disk space but nonetheless functions as it should. I wrap the laptop with my multipurpose sarong, and put a soft case over it before packing it into my daypack. Surprisingly, it doesn’t weigh as heavy as I’d imagine.
Thus with the aid of a laptop, my blog is reborn again.
* * *
Much has happened over the past few months. Last November, I was officially off my company’s payroll. With a light heart, I declared myself a free person. Squidman called me The Departed. Very apt, I suppose.
From Nov to Feb, I was backpacking around Malaysia, sometimes with friends who I met over www.couchsurfing.com and sometimes without. My travels took me to various places including Pangkor Islands, Malacca, Kota Bahru, Penang, Cameron Highlands, Taiping, Ipoh, Segamat, Cherating, Benta, Fraser’s Hill, Perhentian Islands and some other obscure Southern towns with names that I fail to recall. There was even a time where I did a two-day stint to Ranong, a small NorthWest town of Thailand to see a friend. That didn’t turn out too well though. Thankfully, Squidman was there as my partner-in-crime and together, we survived the piss-drunk-driver-and-stranded-in-the-middle-of-nowhere ordeal.
Songkran in Bangkok
The worst 24-hr train ride from Butterworth to Bangkok
Ko Chang bungalows
Train ride from Bangkok to Aranyapathet (Thailand/Cambodia border)
Into the Wild (Mafia’s den in Poipet)
I didn’t have a lot of money, only a mere RM2000++. Occasionally, an article or two, or a freelance copywriting assignment will rein in some cash but my account doesn’t go more than RM3500. Before my journey I also invested in a:
1) 45 + 10 litre Venture Deuter Backpack
2) Flights into the foreign by Pico Iyer, AA Gill is Away by AA Gill and Woe is I English Grammar (Along the way, I also accumulated more books and sold some)
3) Full toiletry set, floss, tiger balm and insect repellent
4) Cheap flip flops (the second time when I returned home, I took along my Nike trainers and a simple pair of heels)
5) A nifty black daypack with tonnes of pockets
6) A new passport
7) More undergarments
After the short stint around Malaysia, I travelled into Thailand (for numerous times) and then Cambodia and then back to Thailand. I’ll eventually head to Laos and Vietnam and probably China. However, I may still consider going into Europe. I’ve still got a one-way ticket to Amsterdam that I cannot use, unless I purchase the return as well.
The trip so far:
THAILAND: Mae Sot, Mae Sariang, Chiang Mai, Bangkok, Kanchanaburi, Ko Pha Ngan, Ranong, Ko Chang, Had Yai, Songkhla, Surat thani
CAMBODIA: Poipet, Siam Reap, Phnom Penh, Sihanoukville
In my next few posts, I’d provide highlights of some of the places that I’ve visited. There’s much to update but I’ll try my best to pick the juiciest tales and write about them while I’d let the rest lie.
Pierrick St-Pierre Gagnon
Pierrick juggling in Mai Chau Village
Pip’s apartment
