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Missed Connections.

Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Woman on Subte D, 11.30 am on Friday 7/12, got off on Facultad Medicina
Location: Capital

We shared a couple of stops together this afternoon on the tube. The subway was crowded and you were crammed next to the door and I was standing (awkwardly) in front of you. You have blondish/brownish hair and had a blue knapsack on. I have short brown hair and was holding a green umbrella, not that you should have noticed. Anyway, I had about four stops to say something–anything–but didn’t. If by some random act of God Almighty you find this, hello. I would love to hear from you.

***

Some people asked me where do I get the ideas for my stories or writings. Usually, I replied with, “Everywhere.” And it’s entirely true. Everything I have experienced in life and everyone I have crossed paths with will become a story, a poem, a novel, or a blog post. However, lately, I was drawn into Craigslist‘s Personals section to find story ideas.

The reason why I ended up on Craigslist is a different story altogether and it may appear somewhere in my next book (wink), but all in all, I am amazed by the sparks of inspiration I could get from the site!

These past few days, I got high just by reading Craigslist’s Missed Connections ads from different parts of the world. This section inside Personals carries ads from people who had the chance to connect with someone but did not act on it or did not act on it bold enough. Reading the ads reminded me of a Saturday when I spent 10 hours in Casa with Ollie, writing 50 poems each, around a similar theme: missed.

Craigslist’s Missed Connections has been my guilty pleasure, successfully keeping me up several nights in a row, curling in my bed with a cup of hot chocolate, clicking random cities, reading random ads, and being mellow. I have selected some of the most interesting ones in this post. Hopefully, they could spark some inspiration in you–not only to write a story, a poem, or whatever, but also to seize the moment, and to take that one chance in life: to live a life without what-ifs.

***

Singapore.
Malay Lady with Pink Lipstick Color on MRT towards Marina Bay
Location: MRT Bukit Batok – Yew Tee

Today afternoon around 4 pm, you were wearing a hijab and pink lipstick color and I was wearing blue. You boarded the MRT at Bukit Batok with your friend and I was sitting beside you. I fell asleep for a while but during the ride we looked at each other several times and I looked away because it was awkward. We both looked at each other when I finally alighted at Yew Tee. So if you happen to see this and want to make friends, just get back to me from here. Yeah?

Indian Lady on Bus 851 This Morning
Location: Bus 851

Our eyes met as I boarded Bus 851 this morning. I think we had a connection when we were glancing at each other repeatedly as you were waiting to alight at the bus stop at Little India station. I wish I had alighted with you just so I could introduce myself. Hope to see you again, or hear from you via email.

Barcelona, Spain.
Nice Conversation on L3 Line on Friday Night
Location: Diagonal station – L3 Line

It happened on the 26th of July, Friday evening around 10 pm. When I was at Diagonal metro station, I asked you if the L3 train stops at Liceu. You were very kind and helped me with a nice smile. We had a nice conversation on the train and you got off at Catalunya. While you speak very good English, you told me that you speak Italian and French better. I wanted to ask you for a drink but couldn’t since you were off to meet a friend. I regret that because that was my last day in Barcelona. You seem like a very cool person and I want to talk more. I never tried this, but I’m just hoping you will read this. I’m that Asian guy traveling from New York.

Beautiful American Girl I Should Have Spoken To
Location: The metro

You were one of three American (or maybe Canadian) girls I stepped onto the metro with at Ciutadella – Vila Olimpica. We all got off at Passeig de Gracia. The entire ride I could not stop looking at you, and I noticed that your eyes, similarly, kept finding me. I was hoping we would both end up on the next train together, but you and your friends left the station and I was left on the other side of the crowd walking towards L3. I doubt you will ever read this, but, if so, I just wanted to tell you here (because I was too slow to tell you there) that you are genuinely the most beautiful human being I’ve ever laid eyes upon, and that, if it would be at all possible, I would not hesitate to fly to whatever American city you live in just to buy you dinner one night.

Santorini, Greece.
California Girls on the Bus to Oia
Location: Santorini

We talked briefly on the way to Oia yesterday. I’m the German guy with the T.C. Boyle book. Get in touch in case you read this, would be nice.

Rome, Italy.
We met on Omegle.
Location: Rome

Tell me what game we played: we had gone through three songs, the first one I showed you was blurred lines. You were 23, I was 19. Theory, dude, I hope you find me.

Paris, France.
Antoine Virolleau
Location: Joinville-le-Pont

I asked you for help at a metro station in Paris on July 13th. We both got off the train at Joinville-le-Pont and chatted a bit. You said I was the first person from Texas you had ever met. We said we would try to go together to the Eiffel Tower to see the Bastille Day fireworks the following day. I wasn’t able to get in touch with you because I could not find you on Facebook!

Asked You About Iced Tea
Location: St-Ouen Flea Market

You were working at a cafe in the back section part of the flea market. You gave me the recipe for the delicious homemade iced tea. You were so nice and had such a sweet smile. I saw you while you went on break and we both smiled and waved. I’d love to stay in contact. Long shot. Worth the try?

You Were 60 Something and You Were So Pretty!
Location: Paris

I was in the rain on my way back to Paris when I saw you get into the wagon, I think at Veneux-les-Sablons. You were 60-ish, so gorgeous, a perfect figure that could put the 20 something to shame. Your face was simply a sublime image of a Greek statue. The jeans you wore fit you just so perfectly. You kept looking out the window and I kept looking at you. I have your face imprinted in my mind. Your eyes, your lips, your body, your style… will I ever be able to see you? Meet you? Who knows… I am trying and will surely meet you. You had something in you, something so magnetic that kept pulling me towards you. Well, a lot of women could do that, but you were so special. Really, I would like to cycle with you somewhere around Fontainableu or around Paris. Sit with you, look at you, maybe share a cigarette and some conversation. Contact me, please!

Melbourne, Australia.
I Couldn’t Believe It. There You Were.
Location: Airport

K,

There I was sitting in the wrong gate at the wrong terminal at 7 am chowing down on McDonalds, when you walked past wearing your school sweater. It took me 30 seconds of being frozen to jump up and try to catch you up, but you had disappeared into the crowd. Long way from London… but it’s a small world. I hope your adventure is everything you hoped it would be!

G.

Blackburn Train 3.45 pm Today
Location: Spencer Street

You are around 50. You got on at Spencer Street, two handbags and you were wearing a brown coat which you seductively unbuttoned. Short brown hair. The sexiest legs I’ve ever seen. You were reading some stuff on employment contracts, which you were organizing in a folder. I was the young guy sitting opposite. Love to meet you.

SriLankan Stripper
Location: The Men’s Gallery, Melbourne

I met you at The Men’s Gallery. Every girl that approached me, I told them I wasn’t interested. Then, I saw you. I sat down in front of you straight away. I got a lap dance and we started talking about meditation and spiritual things. I fell in love. You told me you lived in Melbourne, close to me. I said, “I don’t usually do this, but would you like to grab a coffee?” You told me you had a boyfriend. I wore a clam shell around my neck. I am tall and wear glasses. For some reason, I think I met you for a reason. I am not sure why. I still would love to have a coffee with you.

Cairo, Egypt
June 24 Flight
Location: Cairo

We started chatting on the flight to Cairo, but I guess you couldn’t continue as you had your family with you. I couldn’t help being attracted to you, though. So please contact me if you ever read this.

Johannesburg, South Africa.
Der Salem KLM Flight
Location: Johannesburg

To the nice man who let me read his newspaper and carried my luggage into the terminal: you are a real gentleman. Thank you so very much even if it is somewhat after the fact.

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
US Airways Flight 800 on Friday, July 12
Location: Rio de Janeiro

We met on our flight from Charlotte, NC, to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil–on US Airways Flight 800 on Friday, July 12, 2013. I was traveling for work, you were going back to Brazil for a month vacation. We both live in NYC. I gave you my number but I never got yours. I really want to get in touch with you. Please write back or call/message me.

Beijing, China.
Your Name is Shane
Location: SFO Airport

Hey.

We talked at the airport on July 7th, when Asiana crushed at SFO airport and our plan got cancelled and delayed. I wore a Cal shirt and you thought I was from Berkeley. You worked in an IT company at San Jose. I don’t know if you can see this… but I had really good time talking to you. But I guess you didn’t feel the same way, otherwise you would’ve asked my number. You were going to Beijing as I was, and I guess you would have been back to the States now.

Istanbul, Turkey.
Flight From Hong Kong to Istanbul
Location: Istanbul

We spoke briefly, and I was hoping to see you at baggage claim but never did. I know there is no chance of you reading this, but I thought what the hell. I’m here for a few days and would love to hang out. Anyway, if you read this, tell me the color of the jacket you were wearing, and let’s chat!

Montreal, Canada.
You Passed Me on Bannentyne Street in Verdun
Location: Verdun

Tonight at 9:50 pm, you passed me. Then you turned into Ave Desmachais. You were a white mature man. You were so sexy! I was walking behind you 🙂

Cute Guy at McDonalds, Late Breakfast
Location: Masson and Iberville

Cute guy, this morning at McDonalds you came back to the counter for a missing McMuffin. You winked at me when I smiled at you. By the time I got my food and sat near you, you were done and getting up. You were wearing black shorts and a black top. Wish I could have figured out how to say hi 🙂 Maybe a coffee or drink later?

The Shortest Train Ride
Location: Train from Vendome

The moment you spoke to me, I melted. Your soft English accent. You asked me if I knew how the ticket machine worked. Unfortunately, I was there with my mother and felt awkward, but lent you $6 for the ticket since you only had American money. We rode the train and you sat next to me. We talked about a lot of things. I learned that you were originally from London, now living in New York, working for a magazine. You were on your way to visit your grandfather at a hospital in St. Anne de Bellevue on Saturday and then you were off to a wedding on Sunday. I was in awe of your beauty and would steal glances whenever I could so as not to be a complete creep and stare at you. I wanted to talk to you more but was to shy to ask for your number. I regret that. I keep wishing that train ride was just a little longer, Mia 🙁

San Fransisco, US.
Bag Didn’t Blow Up
Location: Gate 80

It was just a bag of dirty socks and laundry apparently. I thought you were super cute and I wish(ed) you luck on your law career before you walked off to Gate 89 to Dulles. I regretted not being able to talk to you longer, it seemed we had a natural flow there for a moment. If you want any contacts in the bay, feel free to email me back here, and we can meet up in the future. Thanks, Stephanie.

Griffin.

I Got A Parking Ticket
Location: Oakland Lake Merritt/Grand

I was standing outside my car, frustrated at my parking ticket which happened to be WRONG. I noticed a few people standing outside their cars as well, looked over at you and we made EYE CONTACT. I don’t think I held in my excited smirk to well.

You shouted over the noisy traffic. “Did you get a ticket?”
Me, “What?”
“Did you get a ticket?”
Me, “Yeah!”
You told me you once got one that you didn’t deserve either.

I went back to my business of taking pictures of the ‘scene’ and you walked north down 19th St. with what looked like a bag of laundry and said, “Well, have a good day!”

You were parked with a small red SUV, you have curly hair, khaki pants, dirtied white shoes, a backpack, and I mentioned bag of laundry.

Rooftop Metropolitan Mus. of Art on 8-3-13, Around 7-8 PM
Location: Upper East Side, 5th Avenue at E82nd St.

I was sitting on a wooden bench on the right, alone, rimless spectacles, blue shirt. You have been standing 3-4 meters away, together with your mother (?), blond hair, wearing a white-gray/black-stripped top and gray Adidas sneakers. We had eye contact for 2-3 times, lasting multiple seconds. We smiled at each other, and I loved your smile! You two went away. Later, we met again near the bar when I was strolling around. Wanted to say hello to you, but then you were gone and I could not find you again. This was between 7-8 pm on 8-3-13 (Metropolitan Museum of Art, rooftop). Still thinking of you. Please get in touch with me. Hope you will read this.

New York, US.
I Rejected You, You Rejected Me Back
Location: New York

We met last week. I had too much to drink, which is unlike me. I enjoyed kissing you and from the bit of talking we did, we seemed to have some things in common and I liked your personality. I left abruptly–I was a bit embarrassed and thought it best to go home. I didn’t mean to tease you or reject you, I just had too much to drink. After a few days, I found you online and sent a friend request. I was hoping to see you again, kiss you again, and let you meet the real me. I should have said this in a message then, but I felt awkward. If you rejected my request because you’re not interested, I understand. But if hearing any of this changes your mind, send me a friend request. That night we met, I stupidly said, “If we’re meant to meet again, we’ll meet again.” I’d like to meet you again, if you’d like to.

Clark Street 2/3 Violinist 6 pm Yesterday
Location: Brooklyn Heights

You were playing the most beautiful reel as I passed you on my way to catch the 2/3. We made eye contact, I grinned like a teenager, and went on my way, and kept listening to you play as I walked down the stairs. I’m a musician, too. The playing was so beautiful that I made my way back up the stairs and put a dollar into your violin case. I wanted to leave my phone number, too, but there was something sacrosanct about the beauty of what you were playing that I didn’t want to ruin it.

So I just left the dollar, which was definitely not enough. I’m a poor musician, though. You MUST have a girlfriend or wife, as handsome as you are. But even if you are married, well… real recognizes real. You’re a beautiful musician. And if this somehow finds you and you happen to be single, which is not likely, my name is Abby. And I was wearing a strapless long leopard print dress. I’m an opera singer who now has a massive crush on a violinist whose name I will probably never know.

Dublin, Ireland.
Missed Connection on Flight from Dublin to JFK
Location: Dublin

This is completely out of the ordinary for me, but I thought ‘why not’. This is a long shot, but just in case, I am throwing this out there, otherwise I would wonder ‘what if’. I was on Delta Flight 198 with you from Dublin to JFK on July 18th. I thought you were very attractive and tried to begin a conversation with you about the book you were reading, “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell”. As you were leaving you asked me if I was in Dublin often, and I replied ‘no’. The truth is I can go to Dublin whenever I wish. If you are interested and happen to come across this posting, please reply and include what I was wearing and how many little milks you had in your tea 😉 This way I know it is really you replying. I hope this finds you.

***

Distance is not so much
like walking a thousand miles
or being separated
by concrete blocks.
Distance is like
when we caught each other’s eyes
on a crowded train
and looked another way,
pretending to be interested
in electric poles.

(one of the poems I wrote with my friend, Ollie, in Casa)

hanny
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On How I Stay Happy All The Time.

I was having my cup of Papuan coffee this afternoon when a friend texted me. “How do you stay happy all the time?” she asked. I replied immediately with: “I don’t.”

***

And I am telling her the truth. I don’t stay happy all the time—whatever that means. I am still a human being, after all. In fact, I cried under the shower two days ago—when anger consumed me in such a short burst. On the bus ride to the office this morning, I got really pissed when a mother asked her kid to just-throw-the-trash-into-the-floor. A few months ago, I got heartbroken and I went into my pathetic mode for a while.

I do get sad. And mad. And bitchy, sometimes.

However, I always remember something a friend told me once: “It’s okay to be sad. Or mad. Feel it. Recognize that feeling. Accept it. You don’t have to fight it. But don’t indulge yourself in it, either.”

And I learn to do just that. When I’m sad, I’ll cry. But when my tears stop falling, I stop. I know I am still sad inside. I can recognize the pain—as if something has been taken away from me, causing that empty feeling—lurching somewhere above my stomach. So I let myself be sad.

But there are other things I can do when I’m sad apart from keeping crying or punching my pillow or feeling sorry for myself (or not taking a shower all day long). I can write a blog. I can read a good book. I can go out with some friends and have a good laugh with them. I can bake a cake. I can watch some cheesy teenage movies. These are no fancy things, just some random things I enjoy doing. Normally, I won’t even notice how these simple things make me happy and lift up my mood. But sadness makes me appreciate happiness more. It’s a reminder for me to be grateful for life’s simple pleasures.

When the desire to stay miserable creeps in, I remind myself not to indulge in it. I refuse to go back into my bed and just stay there thinking about all the bad things that have caused me this sadness, replaying the hurtful scenes over and over again. I do other things that will make me happy instead: go for a short walk at the Botanical Garden, treat myself two bowls of my favorite chicken noodle (with loads of chili), go on a photo-hunting, write poems, sing stupid songs in a karaoke place, browse over cute kitten pictures…

I told my friend just that, and she said she had heard it all. She had read books about it. “But I find it so hard not to indulge myself in sadness,” she said. “It’s not that easy.”

At that moment, I remembered asking her a few weeks ago about the things she enjoys doing.
“Singing!” she replied. “I have always wanted to take a vocal lesson!”
“Then do it!” I smiled. “Now you have the time and money to do that, so why not? Do the things that will make you happy.”

As I recalled that episode, I texted her back: “Hey, anyway, what about that vocal lesson? Have you enrolled in one?”

She replied with: “No. Not yet.”

***

I wish there’s a simpler way to do this—but I’m afraid there isn’t. I know that for some people out there, this may sound too harsh; or it may appear that I oversimplify the problem—but sometimes, to get out of sadness, the first thing you need to do is wanting to get out of it. And then start climbing out.

***

“If we focus only on happiness, we’re neglecting the richness of the full emotional spectrum–and we’re overlooking the fact that you couldn’t make sense of happiness if you didn’t know sadness. The loss gives you access to a wonderful array of very real human experiences, especially the connection between people. Sadness is tinged with an incredibly profound depth of appreciation of life. You’re acutely aware of what’s important. A lot of the things that preoccupied me before seem rather trite and superficial now. Now, I’m much more connected to the little things. I’m much more profoundly moved by music. A walk in the evening just seems like a gift.”

Chris Skellett, When Happiness Is Not Enough

hanny
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Yes, I’m Female. And I’m Traveling Alone.

And it just happened. From those short-distance trips to crossing half of the globe, I found myself enjoying traveling alone–savoring the privilege of doing whatever I like at whatever pace I want while turning strangers into friends along the way. It has been an enriching experience that helps me to become more confident, thoughtful, and considerate. Some female readers ask me what are the things they need to consider if they would like to travel solo themselves; so I think I’ll just share some tips from my experience below:

  1. Don’t be rude. No matter how pissed off you are, how angry you are, control yourself, control your emotion. You are alone in a strange country–if you’re being rude and making hurtful comments to someone, you’re attracting unnecessary hatred towards yourself. Just be kind, but prompt. I know sometimes guys approach you when you’re walking or invite you for some drinks; other times a beggar follows you around asking for money. You can smile and say ‘no’ politely, and then say ‘no’ again promptly when they’re still trying, or say ‘no’ again and walk away briskly. But don’t make a drama out of it. If you don’t like the taste of local food or find the streets so gross and dirty or think that a local custom doesn’t make sense, don’t make nasty comments or ugly faces or throwing evil judgments. Accept the fact that each country is different, and respect that. Think of how you would feel if a traveler made nasty comments about your country. Don’t make people hate you. Be kind. Be considerate.
  2. Be prepared and do your homework. Do extensive research about the country/city you are about to visit. Ask around, especially to friends/families who had been there before. With sites like Couchsurfing, you can always get valuable insights from the locals about the best location to stay, local transport, customs and traditions, and so on. Learn a little bit of local language always helps–at least in the countries, I have ever visited. I realized that the locals–including immigration officials, became much friendlier when I said a few words in their local language. I think they appreciate the fact that you care enough to try. Find out the proper outfit to wear. In some countries, women adhere to a certain way of dressing. In other countries, you need to wear long skirts or sarongs to visit temples and religious sites. To me, following the dress code is more about showing respect to the culture in a certain country rather than an attempt to avoid unnecessary attention (though it also helps you gain respect when you’re trying to dress like a local). I would suggest you to have your accommodation booked at least for your arrival day. This would calm you down, knowing that you already have somewhere to go and someone to contact as you exited the airport.
  3. Make connections. You can stay with a Couchsurfer. It’s a great way to experience a country from the perspective of a local. You can select a female host to stay with if it makes you feel safer. I would suggest you stay with someone whose location has been checked, the identity has been verified, has been vouched for, and has hosted several travelers before. Do read people’s recommendations/testimonials about the host. If you’re not comfortable with the idea of staying with a stranger, go for hostels. You can do your research at HostelWorld. Most hostels have reception areas and common rooms where other travelers hang out. Make friends with them, chat about your itineraries and plans, sometimes you can arrange some trips together or tag along with someone. Make conversations with taxi drivers, waiters, shopkeepers. Ask them about the ‘local places’ to eat or shop.
  4. Don’t look lost. Sometimes we got worried, scared, confused, got lost. But, no matter what, appear calm and confident. Act as if you know what you need to do. When you’re waiting for someone, appear busy. Bring a book with you, so you can read instead of looking lost. Of course, you can also pretend to take photographs or listening to music from your iPod or fake-texting on your phone–but in some places, you don’t want to flash your gadgets out. Book is rather safe. If you need to ask for directions, enter a nice hotel/inn/store/cafe and ask the concierge or the bellboy or the storekeeper or the waiter. If you’re out in the streets, ask in front of a group of people who don’t know each other, like in a shop, small restaurants, or bus stop–thus if someone is trying to mislead you, other people will catch that and butt in. Trust your gut. When something (or someone) doesn’t feel right, walk away from it.
  5. Make sure you can contact someone and can be contacted. Even if you don’t have local numbers, make sure that you can make an emergency phone call or send text messages. Have someone to contact in the city you’re in; either someone from your hostel, your embassy, a fellow traveler, or a local friend. Let someone at home–either families and friends know your plans and your whereabouts: your flights, hotels, and so on; at least they have a grip on where to find you. It will make you feel safer.
  6. Just remember that we are all human after all. We like to laugh and smile and be happy. We like to make friends and enjoy a nice conversation. Some things are universal, like kindness. Be positive and see your next destination as an adventure, as a journey to find that kind-hearted person inside of you. Go out and see the world with this frame of mind, and you’ll be able to see beauty everywhere you go–even when it’s hidden in the most unlikely places.

Happy travels!

hanny
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Santorini (Epilogue) | 5. The Art of Living a Life without Regret

I know that I’ve been postponing this for quite some time. A part of myself refused to say an official ‘goodbye’ to Santorini—thus, I found it difficult to actually sit down in front of my computer and write this last part; the epilogue. Finally, I’m writing this from Almaty, Kazakhstan, somewhere in the midst of the mysterious charm of Central Asia. An encounter with someone here a few days ago reminded me of a conversation I had with G inside the car on my last day in Santorini, when he drove me to the airport.

It’s all about living a life without regret. A life worth celebrating.


“I love my job, I love what I do. I get to talk and meet with a lot of interesting people,” said G that cloudy morning. “But I don’t like money. Really, I hate money. That’s why I spend it. I travel around the world and spend loads of money. I even invite my friends to come along with me. Then I go back here, without money, and start working again. But it’s been an amazing life. You know, if I should die today, I have no regret. The business is running well, I know that my family will be alright without me. My father, my mother, they are doing fine. And I am happy, Hanny. If I die today, I will die happily. I will die a happy man.”


The following week, I received a reply from AP about the thank-you note I’ve written for the great meal and the great service I’ve experienced in his tavern. “Honey, I’m really happy because you’re the proof of all the hard work and efforts we make everyday to be everything-perfect! We see our customers as friends first,” wrote AP. “We’re learning, from generation to generation, to give our best. To be hospitable. And to do everything with love. One baklava is waiting for you, so come again as soon as possible!”


And what about those guys who came up with the lovely Atlantis Books in Oia? If you’ve read their stories in my previous post, you’ll see that it all started with nothing but love and passion.

If there’s any secret ingredient to live a life without regret, that must be it. Love. To do things that you love, and to do things that you might not love that much with a lot of love. It’s about seeing people that you love happy and content. It’s about radiating the love inside of you, which in turn will make people around you feel accepted and comfortable. You do not judge. You do not compare. You do not count. You have no fixed plans. You seize the day and grab the opportunity. You never wish that you said ‘hello’ because you always do. You connect. You smile. You laugh. You flow. You love. You live.


Should you have the opportunity to visit Santorini one day, please come and meet these gorgeous souls who understand the art of living a life without regret:

  • George Katsipis | Villa Evgenia Hotel in Fira, Santorini. Ranked #1 of 25 specialty lodging in Fira by TripAdvisor (that’s what love can do). If you’re at the reception area, look for an owl postcard on the customer’s board: that’s mine!
  • Alexandros Passaris | Petros Fish Tavern in Oia, Santorini. Enjoy the tasty grilled fish while admiring the sunset view by the ocean.
  • Oliver, Craig, Tim, Maria and Chris | Atlantis Books in Oia, Santorini.

——————————-

More in this series:

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,

Santorini | 2. The Road Less Travelled

When travelling alone, I am the kind of person who will be spending as much time to do things I am interested in, in places I am most attracted to. It is never about the number of places I have visited or photographed, and it is definitely not about walking around with a tourist map in hand, check-marking the sites flagged as “must-seen” by others.


Travelling alone is about a journey that is taking place inside of me. It is about waking up very early or very late. About enjoying or skipping breakfast. About wandering aimlessly or looking for a particular spot. About sitting in one small patisserie—reading poetry books for 2.5 hours straight or fluttering from one art shop to another in 15 minutes. About coming back to the hotel before dark and writing in my room or going out after midnight to take a peek at the bars or having a very late dinner. It is about what I feel like doing. It is about slowing down and taking a deep breath. About stopping and being still. About following where your heart is taking you. About not being in a rush.

Santorini is the perfect place to do just that. Nobody is scurrying or honking or yelling or cutting in line. It is like seeing the world moving in slow motion, and it is such a wonderful scene to watch. You can see how people move their hands. The way the wind ruffles somebody’s skirt. The color of someone’s eyes. The freshness of the tomatoes on your salad bowl. The shapes of doors and fences and rooftops. The sound of a lizard moving lazily on the gravel path. This is a small island where everybody knows everybody. Where one is always somebody else’s childhood friend. Where people actually go to the beach or to the hills by bringing along their canvas and paints or guitar; then spend hours there, painting or strumming—just like in the movies. Where the streets and shortcuts and alleyways become amazingly familiar to you in just a day or two (“It’s really difficult to get lost here, trust me,” said G—the owner of the hotel where I stayed, when I told him that I have a very poor sense of direction. He was right).

On my first day, I tried my luck (and courage) in taking the shortcut from the hotel to the city center. Instead of following the main road, I climbed the alleyways behind the mini market, walked past people’s homes and establishments, took pictures of everything beautiful while trying to avoid stepping on the fresh donkey manures. I did well. I went out (somehow) at the right alley, just before the bus station at Fira’s city center. From that day on, I got all the courage in the world to take shortcuts and alleyways to some small villages nearby, never once got lost.

Later that day, having seen the photographs, G was surprised knowing that I had snapped a picture of his family’s old cave house. “How did you find it? It is hidden from the street…!” (well, I did take the road less travelled!). G’s father and grandfather was raised in this cave house, a traditional house—built deep into the rock face—of the locals in Santorini. At the moment, most cave houses have been sold or leased as hotels/villas.

“The cave house is empty now, and we’re planning to sell it as well,” said G.

“Must be hard to let go of such a precious family possession. It holds the family’s history,” I replied, reminded of a friend of mine who had recently sold her family’s old house.

G just shot an ‘it-is-OK’ smile.

I wandered around Fira’s city center that afternoon. The sun was shining brightly, but the wind was blowing hard and cold—enveloping me in the fresh and salty scent of the Aegean sea. Wrapped in my pink cardigan, I climbed up past the little shops selling local delicacies; Vinsanto wine and olive oil in pretty bottles, to the stretch overlooking the caldera.

{Note: The present-day crescent shape of Santorini island is essentially what remains of an enormous volcanic explosion some 3,600 years ago. This created the current geological caldera; a giant central lagoon, more or less rectangular, and measuring about 12 by 7 km, surrounded by 300 m high steep cliffs on three sides.}

I just sat there for I didn’t know how long; mesmerized by the stunning view and the fact that I was actually here, standing right in the middle of my fairy tale. How far can a dream take you? I would say, far. Really far.

———-

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Santorini | 1. The Art of Travelling Alone

Started in 2007, at least once a year, I travel alone. It doesn’t really matter how far or how close the destination is. The idea is simply to go to a foreign place, a place where you know no one, alone. It’s not that I dislike travelling with friends. I do enjoy spending summer with my best friends: shopping and partying with the girls and going poetically mellow in a remote village with the boys. But travelling alone gives a different kind of pleasure. It’s more of a journey to know who you really are, better.

Travelling alone gives you a lot of time to spend with yourself, to do things as you wish, to see things that you want, to spend more or less time in places that you find most or least interesting, to say yes or no to a stranger’s invitation for a drink without having to consult anyone, to spend your time doing nothing—or anything, for that matter. To me, it’s an opportunity to wander around, to daydream, to write, to read, to draw, to take pictures, and most importantly: to think.

The most interesting part is, when travelling alone, you have no one to accompany you but yourself. It’s a great test to see how much you like being in your own company. Do you see yourself as a good friend; someone you can feel comfortable with, or someone you can’t stand? Do you see yourself as someone you can count on to? Will yourself disappoint or fulfill you? Can you make peace with your own thoughts, worries, fears, dreams, passions?

Travelling alone also teaches you in a humble way. It makes you see things with lovingness. Deep down inside, you realize that if things go wrong somehow, you can only rely upon the kindness of fellow strangers or locals you meet along the way. This makes you see everyone around you as a good friend. You feel happy and generous in offering directions to someone who seems lost, helping those who carry a lot of stuff while trying to lift their luggage to the pavement, cleaning the table once you’ve finished eating, or running—chasing for a baby hat that’s being blown away by the wind. A pleasant smile, a short stop to chat about the places you’ve been yesterday and places you’re about to go today, a polite nod with a hello, an exchange of good-mornings, a waving of the hand, a simple thank-you note after a great meal, a farewell card, a bottle of wine as a friendly gift.

This year, I went to Santorini in Kikhlades, Greece, alone. I’ve been reading Greek mythology books since I was in elementary school, and have always been interested in the country—but Santorini drew me in when I saw it for the first time on TV and postcards as a teenager. The picturesque island looked like a distant dream, a place hidden somewhere inside a fairy tale. However, I always believe that everything—no matter how small, no matter how big, starts with the courage to dream. And until today, there’s always a place for fairy tale in this world. When you’re patient enough to hold on to it, you can have your own, too.

Just. Don’t. Let. Go.

————–

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Pakistan: Dangerously Enchanting.

Kindness is like electricity. It keeps flowing wherever it finds a connection | Bina Shah, Pakistani’s writer & columnist

What have you heard about Pakistan?

If all that came to mind is the images of bombings, killings, corruption, Moslem extremists, natural disasters, poverty and terrorist attacks, well, you were just like me. Until four days ago, that is, when I landed in Karachi (Pakistan’s City of Bright Lights) and realized that the country has a lot more to tell than what we’ve seen in news reports.

The top of my memory list about Pakistan is the genuine warmth and hospitality of the people. It brushed over me like a sweet nostalgia of being in my own home country. The friendly gesture seeped gently and silently from the side street of Karachi, the market, to the security guards at the hotel lobby. When we were hitting Karachi’s bustling street on midday and taking pictures of a colorful tuk-tuk, the driver turned his head to us, made a peace sign with his hand, and shot us a pleasant smile. At Zainab market, overhearing Dita and me speaking in Indonesian, the shopkeeper told us how he adored Indonesian batik and wished to sell it in Pakistan (which he couldn’t do, unfortunately, due to high customs duty). It’s impossible not to feel optimistic and hopeful when there’s such friendliness around; lifting your mood as you go along.

The second is the positive energy radiated by Pakistan’s younger generation I met during the Social Media Summit. I have faith in Pakistan today, as I have faith in Indonesia 5 – 10 years ago, when things turned ugly. I mean, we’ve been dealing (and still dealt) with more or less the same thing: bombings, killings, corruption, Moslem extremists, natural disasters, poverty and terrorist attacks.

I might have little faith in our government or in the way they rule the country, but I have faith in my fellow Indonesians, especially the younger generation. They’re the ones eager to become a part of a solution instead of being a part of the problem. Maybe, we’ve been so tired of being pessimistic and cynical about a lot of things, and decided to do something about it instead. While our younger generation came up with amazing initiatives like #IndonesiaUnite, Indonesian Youth Conference, Indonesian Future Leaders, and many more, Pakistani youths have also shown their contribution to their beloved country.

One of them is Mehreen Kasana, 20 years old. When I was in Pakistan, the killing of Pakistani youth Sarfaraz Shah by Rangers personnel outside a park in Karachi made headlines everywhere. I met Mehreen during the Social Media Summit at Avari Hotel. She was standing near the coffee table, holding a sign: Stop Killing Your Own People, after coming back from protesting the brutal act. Mehreen is a media student who is loud and opinionated, and she doodles a lot. Her recent blog posting discussed about stereotyping:

I was arguing with a professor once about stereotypes and how they affect us in both direct and indirect ways on discerning levels. After being viewed as a brown Muslim female from Pakistan, I have had my fair share of instances where apparently wise people ended up asking me questions that deserved exasperated sighs and, sometimes, a good punch or two. e.g. “Do you guys in Pakistan kill every girl who wants to study?” and recently “Does everyone wear those black face net things? I heard you can get shot if you don’t.” >> Read more…

And then, there’s Syed Ali Abbas Zaidi, 25 years old—who came all the way from Islamabad, City of Angels.

We shared a session on using social media for disaster response and management. Ali and his friends started a youth movement in Pakistan, called Pakistan Youth Alliance (PYA). As quoted by The Viewspaper, Ali said:

PYA is silent revolution; it is by no means a rebellious initiative. We don’t like to point, we aim to change! We don’t mean to burn, we aim to spark! PYA is a youth motivated, youth run, and youth centered non-political/ indigenous movement which aims to wake the youth of Pakistan from the sleep of apathy. We have had it with the flaws, we have had it with injustice and we have had it being quiet. The anger in us all boils our inside so much that we wish to scream, but if we come out on streets in an unorganized manner, no one would listen. >> Read more…

Pakistan Youth Alliance played a significant role in 2010 Pakistan floods, when they did online fundraising and distributed donations to different areas blocked by the severe flooding.

And please meet Gibran Ashraf, 25 years old, a journalist at the Express Tribune who interviewed me about Coin a Chance!. When he saw my Canon 550D, we started talking about photography instead.

And this is Khaver Siddiqi, 31 years old. He’s a social media manager in a company called Creative Chaos (don’t you just love the name?). Similar to Indonesia, brands and companies in Pakistan have also started making their way into Facebook and Twitter, especially to reach the younger generation.

This is my new Pakistani sister, Sundus Rasheed, the manager of programming at an English-language radio, CityFM89 in Karachi. She loves Ariel Peterpan and really upset that Ariel is now behind bars. She was one of South Asia’s young leaders who got invited to join International Visitors Leadership Program for Civic and Political Engagement hold by US State Department.

You can’t lose hope seeing these young free spirits in Pakistan!

Sundus (and her sister) took me out at around 1 AM to roam the old town of Karachi. The town was lively in small hours, with lots of twinkling lights and street stalls. People were walking, talking, eating, and I got to taste Pakistani’s dessert made of milk cream, and savored one of the best Pistachio ice cream I’ve ever had in my life! Karachi streets after midnight were still bustling with life. Sundus told me that people are usually sleeping very late. In one stretch of the street, I could see lines of men with pillows and mattresses. And no, they are not the homeless. They are actually masseurs! 🙂

And who can resist the food?

Can you imagine? I didn’t really take pictures of the food one by one because I was too busy salivating and attacking mutton curry and chicken masala! And yes, we’re talking about me—who took pictures of almost any kind of food, but was too absorbed in a parade of delicious meals to take a shot of Pakistani food! And it was mango season! I couldn’t describe how sweet and fresh the mangoes were!

And what about these gorgeous sites:

Mazar-e-Quaid (Urdu: مزار قائد) or the National Mausoleum refers to the tomb of the founder of Pakistan, Muhammad Ali Jinnah. It is an iconic symbol of Karachi throughout the world. The mausoleum (Urdu/Persian/Arabic: mazār), completed in the 1960s, is situated at the heart of the city. [Wikipedia]

And this is the breath-taking view of the Jehangir Kothari Parade:

Seth Jehangir Hormusji Kothari, was a member of the Parsi community and one of prominent philanthropists in Karachi, in the days before the 1947 Partition of India. He is remembered today for the gift of his house and adjacent land for the building of a promenade, known as the Jehangir Kothari Parade,[1] on what was then Karachi’s Clifton beach. [Wikipedia]

And this is The Three Swords monument (Teen Talwar):

This impressive monument can be found in the area of Clifton. Karachi has many landmarks, but the Teen Talwar really stands-out. The three white marble swords symbolize (and are inscribed with the dogma of Pakistan’s founder, Mohammad Ali Jinnah) Unity, Faith and Discipline. (“ittehad, yaqeen-e-muhkam, tanzeem.”) This lovely tribute was commissioned by the former President & Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto (Quaid-e-Awam). The abundance of white, good-quality marble in the city’s vicinity has apparently encouraged its wide use for the creation of many monuments, lending a symbolic nature of grandeur & purity. [TripAdvisor]

And here are some shots from Karachi streets:

Hey, remember those days when Indonesia became the “Travel Warning” country? And then Iwan Esjepe and his wife Indah Esjepe came up with the famous sticker we’re so proud of:

Well, let me tell you this: Pakistan is dangerously enchanting!

It was weird how I missed Pakistan instantly the moment I was in Dubai, waiting for my flight to Jakarta. And I just knew that I’d be back. Not only to Karachi, but also to Lahore, to Islamabad and other parts of Pakistan I’ve never seen before. This morning, at work, after feeding the goldfish and making a cup of coffee for myself, I realized how I wished I was still in Karachi: hitting the streets with some new friends, enjoying the food served at street stalls and attacking another cup of pistachio ice cream, watching concerts…

But, the best part of the visit is: that I’ve taken a bit of Pakistan’s spirit within me. And have kept it close to my heart ever since.

—–

*) thank you for everyone I met during Pakistan’s Social Media Summit, organizers, panelists, and participants, for your warm welcome and hospitality, for making me feel like I’m at home. bahut bahut shukriya.

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Hi. I'm HANNY
I am an Indonesian writer/artist/illustrator and stationery web shop owner (Cafe Analog) based in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. I love facilitating writing/creative workshops and retreats, especially when they are tied to self-exploration and self-expression. In Indonesian, 'beradadisini' means being here. So, here I am, documenting life—one word at a time.

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