The Children of the Sun

Well, not much to report from the shack by the sea in Padang-Padang. Beautiful sunsets, beautiful people, and cheap food have made this stay both enjoyable and uneventful. The beach here is a veritable Tower of Babel; Russian, French, Spanish, Bahasa Indonesia, and a number of languages I didn’t recognize all bandied about. Luckily, the lingua franca of the East is English, so we’ve lucked out. In fact, a Spanish gal and an Aussie are conversing amorously in English just outside my bamboo leaf walls.

So, instead of telling all about my sunscreen application techniques or the time I got sandy and swam for a bit then got sandy again, I’m going to discourse for a bit about the people I have met along the Southeast Asia backpacking road. Backpacking is a concept that I’m vaguely familiar with, having run across backpackers from Munich to Moscow and everywhere in between. However, these were European backpackers, usually in search of the European experience for a few weeks or months, enjoying the cultural adventure before heading back home. It is completely different here, for the most part. Different places here have different types of backpackers, but they fall into three main categories, with surprisingly few outliers.

1) The Tourist

Myself, Nathan and Meredith fall into this category. From all over the world (besides America apparently, ourselves excluded), this group of down to earth explorers is fine with following the beaten path, but do so in order to extract the maximum out of their limited time and resources. They generally seek to enjoy and experience the culture, but never forget that they are, in fact, not locals. I have found The Tourist most commonly in Sumatra (Bukit Lawang and Lake Toba) as well as Panang and Java (Yogyakarta and Mount Bromo). These places are generally cultural, fairly difficult to get to (only public transit) and lack completely any sort of stereotypical Western amenity. The Tourist is enjoyable to talk to, share experiences with, and get advice from.

2) The Spring Breaker

Short shorts, Ray Ban sunglasses, dumb tattoos, cheap beer in hand, these perpetual partiers convinced their parents that spending the summer in Ko Phi Phi or on Bali would be, “like, way more educational then that wicked awesome month in Miami with the other frat bros.” Whenever a group of these crazy dudes congregates, one can be sure to find an airport with direct service to LA and NYC, a Western burger joint and a night club with native fire-twirlers nearby. Generally staying at resorts and zipping around in private cars bought with funds siphoned straight from daddy’s bank account, these hard-partiers can often be spotted talking about how far-out it is vacationing in a third world country while using the free wi-fi at the pizza place. Back home, when asked about Thai or Indonesian food, they will say without irony that, “It’s just like here, man!” This group is living proof that, with enough money and a can-do attitude you can party like a frat star anywhere on the globe.

3) The Children of the Sun

My least favorite fellow travelers. Considered ‘bums’ in the United States, these dreadlocked, sun darkened, spiritual creatures drift along the mainstream backpacker currents impressing the gullible and innocent with their wondrous tales of travel. Most gave up their comfortable lives in the West in order to ‘find themselves’ in the spiritual East. They seek to leave behind the materialism of home, declaring time and technology a capitalist construct. Generally, their hypocrisy knows no bounds. Instead of connecting with the natives, I have found most of these guru wannabees in the most commercialized, Western places I’ve visited. The closest thing these guys get to communing with locals is through the thoroughly jaded tattoo artist or the poor guy who’s teaching Mui Thai boxing to the 13th white kid that day. I imagine that 30 years ago, these type of people weren’t pathetic, probably actually finding a little jungle village and staying there for years learning their language, religion, customs and really ‘leaving it all behind.’ Not a lifestyle that I would choose for myself, but certainly respectable. However, Lonely Planet has made that dream accessible to the likes of, say, me, and instead of branching out farther afield, these trailblazers have become sheep, pathetic sheep in desperate need of a bath. One more conversation about some cannabis fueled exotic Eastern journey and I’m going to yank them by the dreadlocks until they wish they’d had some of that Advil they so gladly left behind.

Americans are extremely hard to come by. I have perhaps seen 10 outside of Ko Phi Phi in my three weeks here. I find this odd.

Toodles.