STA Travel is offering their travel internship again this year. If you’re 18-26 and want to spend this summer traveling on someone else’s dime submit your video. I’m guessing big personalities win extra points, details here (warning, video). Good luck!

On travel message boards I often find people asking how they can travel RTW only by land, in a certain number of days or following some other scheme. I stumbled upon this link on Strange Maps today (via onpaperwings) detailing how one could possibly go “around the world” in less than 80 days without flying.

In this case the writer has managed to put together a route that takes 42 days using trains, subways, buses and boats. The accuracy of the details is disputed in the comments but it’s still an interesting idea. I admit I have thought about how this could be done but once I looked into freight or steamer passage from or to the U.S. I quickly decided the novelty wouldn’t be worth the expense. Even if you’re traveling cheaply you have to realize that traveling cheaply for 42 days is still more expensive than traveling expensively for five. And in this case you’re not crossing the most interesting places, at least to me. Although I have yet to visit Russia, the rest of the trip doesn’t look too exciting too my jaded, well-traveled self.

Comments on the post also dismiss the comparison between the proposed route and the “80 Days” route because it stays North of the Equator, saving considerable distance. The “Around the World in 80 Days” route goes through India, adding considerable distance traveling South and North in addition to the increased circumference of the Earth at the equator. Of course, all of this is theoretical, because anyone who has traveled knows that trains don’t always leave on time and connections are easy to miss on the road, even when you’re traveling slow.

Surprisingly, despite my early support for Obama, volunteer efforts, and tickets, I almost didn’t go to the Obama rally on election night a few weeks ago. A friend was having a party and my love for the CNN’s “magic map” is great enough to make me consider missing out in the biggest Chicago party since, well, Lollapalooza.

On the morning of the election I woke up and decided that I would forgo beer, snacks and the magic map for a piece of history in Grant Park. It was obvious that without lining up early in the day I would get nowhere near the stage so my friends and I left late and didn’t arrive at the park until 8pm. Crowds formed along all of the streets leading to park and smart businessmen hawked ugly t-shirts and “rally towels” along the side streets. Tickets were free, but only someone on the mailing list with a quick mouse finger managed to get one. My friend and I were lucky and received out personalized tickets the night before. Security checked our tickets against our IDs at two different posts, and our bags were only checked once. Security gave the appearance of being tight but in actuality was fairly lax given the significance of the night.

The park was far from full after we passed through our third security checkpoint but we quickly realized that the field had been cleverly segmented by metal barriers so no one could push very far to the front, or middle, for that matter. Despite a large screen showing CNN I could barely catch a glimpse of the magic map through the heads of taller people waving their hands and adjusting their hats. I like to pride myself on my superior concert crowd-navigation skills, but years of experience elbowing my way to the stage at Metro could not help me get closer to the screen. I thought about busting out my Chinese train station ticket-buying elbow maneuvers but decided it wouldn’t work with a group of four.

The night went fast, a woman nearby fainted before the election was called and was carried out by police officers which provided a welcome distraction from trying to see the screen. The crowd was still talking about the last state called when CNN suddenly called the election for Obama, taking most people by surprise. When everyone started jumping around me, screaming and crying I had to ask what had happened. Everyone seemed to want to document the moment, which made it even more difficult to see through the raised hand holding cameras—I ended up watching the speech on a small LCD screen on the back of the camera someone held in front of me. Even though I didn’t see much of the actual event I was happy to be there, to be surrounded by an amazing positive energy and to watch the last two years of campaigning come to an end.

Many people have explained what I felt, and still feel, about this night much more eloquently than I ever could. I will say that the next day everywhere I went in the city people were practically beaming with pride and hope. Everyone I walked by smiled and said hello. I hope that this feeling lasts through the winter and some of this positive energy will make it’s way into new American policy and we can once again become a government of the people, by the people, for the people.

Although I volunteered for Barack Obama’s campaign during the primaries I hadn’t done much since he defeated Hillary Clinton, despite receiving at least one email a day asking for donations and three emails a week asking me to volunteer. Finally it came down to the last week before the election and I realized it was now or never. In Illinois, Obama’s home state, he was polling up 30 points so there was little campaigning to do locally. On the other hand, Wisconsin and Indiana would be tight races and the campaign was asking everyone to head out to their closest state to campaign.

I decided to vote early downtown this year and was happy to be voting in suburban Cook County which had a wait of 45 minutes. The line for Chicago Cook County residents snaked back and forth around corners and disappeared down a hallway with an estimated wait time of three to four hours. These touch screen machines were a bit testy and I had to press the screen a number of times in a particular way to register a vote.

Over the past two months I had responded to every call to volunteer out of state but once the Chicago-based organizers heard I didn’t have a car they stopped calling back. I had been on the mailing list for the Northwest Suburbs for Obama group for over a year and decided to meet up with them and their well-organized rides. The group was meeting at a local Democratic office in the suburbs at 7:15am on Saturday morning—only the first train from the city didn’t arrive until 9am. I caught the Friday evening commuter train out of the city with my brother to stay the night at my mom’s house, providing me the opportunity to take Buster trick-or-treating (it was Halloween, afterall). I think it says something about my passion for electing Obama that I missed out on Halloween weekend to travel to Wisconsin for him.

Saturday morning I got a ride to the suburban office where about fifteen of us organized into cars for the ride up. I decided to stay the night in Milwaukee rather than come back to make the most out of my campaigning and was lucky to find one car of people doing the same. I had tried to arrange a floor to sleep on but could only manage to find a roommate for a hotel room. It was great to share the cost, only I was hoping for no cost at all. The drive to Milwaukee is less that two hours from the suburbs, and we arrived at the abandoned grocery store parking lot to register by the time I usually wake up. Because it was the last weekend before the election we were no longer trying to convince people to vote for Obama or targeting supporters, we were knocking on every door persuading people to go to the polls.

The areas we were given were poor and predominately African-American. Obama signs littered the yards of all of the non-boarded up houses so we knew it would be an easy sell. I was surprised how many people had questions about voting or had the wrong information about when and where to vote. We were well-versed in voting rights for felons (half of the people we stopped on the street told us they were “on papers” which means they can’t vote) and tried to help anyone who was confused. I was asked for a date by no less than three men who all seemed un-phased by the fact that I was from a different state. One man saw me walking by myself and asked where my man was, to which I replied “down the next block.” Travel smarts extend beyond foreign countries and I was confidant in dealing with these types of situations after my experiences in Egypt. He was hanging around the next street with a group of men and when I asked them if they planned to vote he declared that he was planning on “voting for my love.” That’s a write-in for sure.

One of his friends approached me while I knocked on doors across the street and asked if I wanted to go out (not bothering to put down the beer he as drinking). He insisted I take down his number and give him a call after the election when I was less busy. His friends yelled out “who are you voting for?” as if the hundreds of Obama flyers in my arms meant nothing. When I replied Obama they accused me of having Jungle Fever. The neighbors peeking out of their doorways when I knocked warned me to be careful but I’m used to talking to strangers and diffusing situations on the road and felt totally at ease. I wonder if my travel experiences had prepared me well or has given me an over-inflated sense of confidence—I’m still not sure.

Overall the two days I spent on GOTV (Get Out the Vote) went by quickly and left me feeling like I had made a difference. I talked to a woman about securing free babysitting, helped a man who’s voter registration had been rejected, gave a yard sign to a group of men smoking up in their car and was even invited into a church by a pastor to make sure they had flyers for everyone leaving. On Saturday the main Milwaukee volunteer meeting point ran out of packets because 300 more volunteers had showed up than expected. Reports were coming in that 10,000 volunteers from Illinois had invaded Indiana over the weekend. It seemed that everyone had the same idea as I did and I think it made a difference in both Wisconsin and Indiana.

Happy Halloween! I’ve gotten a few comments recently on my Halloween 2005 which reminded me of the reader requests for costume updates. This year I decided to once again utilize some of my travel souvenirs for my Halloween costume. One of the things that I most enjoy when traveling is observing the local costume, so I never thought twice of honoring the Akha Tribe of Easter Myanmar with my Halloween costume.

I can understand how it might come across as strange, maybe even insulting to dress up like a different culture. In America Halloween no longer requires a scary costume, in fact few people dress up scary anymore. When I lived in England in the 90’s most locals who celebrated Halloween (and there were few back then) thought a costume was supposed to be scary. What do you think about dressing up in another culture’s traditional costume? It might be strange, maybe even insulting, to dress up as a Japanese person, but I wouldn’t think twice about dressing in a Kimono as a geisha. There’s a new poll to the right to chime in with your opinion.

The two photos I have of my costume are not amazing this year. Last Saturday night I was running out the door and quickly trying to find a good place to use my self timer which is why neither photo has my entire costume. On the way to the party I stopped at a liquor store to buy beer and was carded while wearing my costume, including my headdress. The owner asked if I was wearing my grandma’s clothes, which I found especially odd.

If you’re interested in other Halloween posts you can read about Halloween 2007, Halloween 2006 at Everest base camp (my costume was someone who likes hiking), Halloween 2005 in Chicago, or Halloween 2004 in the Xishuangbanna region of Western China (where I dressed up as a Canadian).

Sunday night I got a little travel fix, or at least an international culture fix. The girlfriend of one of my old high school friends is planning a trip to Southern India and she was interested in ashrams. When she discovered that I spent eight days at Sivinanda Ashram in Nyer Dam on my last trip she was excited. She frequently attends satsang at the Chicago chapter of the organization, Sivinanda Yoga Vedanta Center, on the North side. When she invited me to satsang on Sunday I jumped at the chance to do something that related to travel and to see how the service compared to the ones I was forcibly waken up at 5am for in India.

The service consists of thirty minutes of meditation followed by chanting and singing. Some of the same chants that you hear in my videos from Nyer Dam were used on Sunday night. Sitting indoors on carpet with ten people was a little different than sitting outside at dawn with seventy people but it was similar enough to leave me with a smile, remembering the good parts of my yoga vacation in India. Sivinanda has centers all over the world and satsang is usually free so if any of you are interested in seeing what it’s like I suggest you go for it. I am not a religious person but I do find the cultural aspects of satsang interesting. Just because we’re not on the road doesn’t mean we shouldn’t make the effort to find some culture when we can.

It’s time to update when strangers are leaving posts asking if you’re still alive. I am still alive but a lot has changed since I got home over a year ago. I was waiting to write a long, insightful post but it never happened. You might laugh when I say that I’m a very private and cautious person, but I am and when I got home and was deciding if I should freelance or look for a full time graphic design job I felt it best to keep my feelings private from the internet.

I have some great clients and decided to stick with freelance, working for myself in my home, rather than looking for an eight to seven job (it’s rarely 9–5 in the design world!). That could change at some point but I’m enjoying the freedom working for myself brings. Most of you know that I lived at home to save money to travel after university and then spent 2004–2007 traveling or preparing to travel. Because of that I never got my own apartment or made any long-term commitments (like a lease or a phone contract) because I always intended to leave on another trip. I just moved into a new place with two bedrooms and a porch all to myself in Chicago so I’m definitely settled in for a little while. For the first time I’ve had the space to unpack my souvenirs and put them out on display.

For the first year I was home I didn’t miss travel as much as you would think. I missed the excitement of seeing new things and I missed drawing in my sketchbook but I didn’t miss bucket showers on the roof of a hotel in Moyale Kenya or a 30-hour bus ride through rural China. Now I do. Traveling has changed my life in an amazing way but it also sometimes makes it harder to relate to ‘normal’ people back home. For the first six months after I got back literally every response that came to mind when making small talk was a story from one of my trips. I’ve finally gotten the impulse to talk about my experiences under control, and meeting other travelers in Chicago has helped give me an outlet to talk when I need to.

I’ve kept in touch with a number of people I traveled with but I’ve also spent time with some of my readers who passed through town. David, who I couchsurfed with in China, came into town a few months ago and returned my travel towel which I had left at his place in October 2006. I met another traveler who’s story was eerily similar to mine on Boots N’ All and we’ve traded war stories over beers this year. I’ve also decided to pay back the couchsurfing community by opening my couch to other travelers. I’m a little cautious of who I let stay and plan to take it slow. My first CSers will be two Canadians who apparently don’t mind sleeping on wood floors in third story walk ups. I’ve received a number of requests, but no one has traveled to more than a handful of countries. I’ve always envisioned meeting other travelers like myself on Couchsurfing but I’ve come to realize that not that many Couchsurfers have traveled to 50 countries and those that have aren’t stopping in Chicago.

I do intend to keep updating this site (I’ve redesigned it and just need to find the time to program) and have a lot of content, advice in particular, that I want to post. Many travelers continue to email me for help with their upcoming trips and I’d like to provide a better resource for them with all of the common questions I see. I realize that my suddenly mundane existence might disappoint some of you, but it’s not possible to travel non stop without settling down either on the road or back home to recharge. I’m certainly not done traveling, you know me, but it’s time to restock my bank accounts and reconnect with my friends and family.

If you have ever traveled outside of the West you’ve probably been approached by someone asking for help immigrating to The U.S., or every once in a while, Canada. I got a lot of this in Asia and Africa. Sometimes it would be a checkout girl in a supermarket in Nairobi, other times it was a kid on a bus asking about college scholarships. I’m surprised that they think a complete stranger would lie for them. I saw a lot of men in suits in Africa sitting in internet cafes looking for “jobs in America” or “expedited work visas.” It was sad, really, because all of these people were going to lose a lot of money and come out without a visa.

In Rwanda a man in an internet cafe asked me to translate something from English to French. I don’t speak French but I saw what he was looking at and tried to warn him. He had received an email from the “U.S. Department of Labour” about a job opportunity. There were so many red flags that it was nearly impossible to fathom anyone would fall for this. The email was sent from a Yahoo address, the logo was badly photoshopped, the body text was brown and many words were misspelled. Apparently this man had already wired the contact a large sum of money (hundred of dollars, which was probably his life savings) and received a request for more money. I explained that this was not the U.S. government and that at this point it was best to give up and accept the lost money. I can’t imagine how anyone would think the U.S. government would ask an applicant to wire money to a bank in The Congo.

This man was from The D.R.C. (Congo) and was somewhat educated but not enough to qualify for a skilled laborer visa. I suggested he apply for a refugee visa, as it would be the easiest to get but his pride would not allow that despite telling me he was “going to die in The Congo.” He kept glancing back at the screen with the fake email and I insisted not to pursue it. I even showed him the real U.S. government’s immigration website. We looked at the requirements and there was no way he could fulfill them. The amount of money needed to immigrate is substantial for someone from Africa and I understand why. If someone shows up with little money and no family how will they assimilate and support themselves? He had thought about getting the money together for a plane ticket but nothing else. I felt bad breaking the news to him but can only hope he listened to me and didn’t waste his savings on an email scam.

I was reminded of this encounter when I came across this interesting chart depicting the immigration process to the U.S. To read the conditions you can go directly to the large version here. Apparently even if you qualify the wait is anywhere from six to twenty eight years. Maybe I need to print this chart out and carry it around with me on my next trip to help explain just how hopeless the reality is for most people.

Me-go Mix: Track 9
“Analakely” — Lola
To download using Windows “right click” and save to disk. Mac users, you know what to do.

The sprawling market at the end of Analakely Street in downtown Antananarivo

Sometimes when you’re traveling in a country you hear a handful of popular songs over and over. Lola’s songs were everywhere in Madagascar. When you don’t speak the language it can be hard to figure out what you’re listening to, but if you’re willing to engage in a little pantomime you can usually figure it out. The song I heard the most in Madagascar was “I Gaskara”, which I’ve already posted. It started playing in a craft shop in Ambostra and, after pointed to my ear and into the air, the woman started singing the song and then wrote the name down on a piece of paper for me.

I didn’t find many music shops until I got back to the capital, where there are stands of CD sellers lining Analakely street, the main thoroughfare in town. The stands had a lot of strange music, including old Billy Joel CDs and Gospel recordings. I was surprised to find no Lola CDs for sale on the street and started to ask around. One man with a bag full of CDs came up with a Lola CD which was obviously pirated and began to sing Lola’s “Manahirana” to me. The serenade attracted a crowd of young men selling a variety of cheap plastic goods who surrounded me and joined in. Buying CDs off street sellers is always a risk because you never know what’s on the disc. In this case I bargained him down to 1/4th his asking price, an amount I didn’t mind losing if the CD was blank.

When I popped it into my laptop back at the hotel I discovered it wasn’t blank, but it was a VCD disc with various artists including Lola, but not the Lola song I was looking for. The next day I tracked down a brick and mortar record store carrying real Lola CDs on Analakely Street near the market (a photo of the store is in this post). I was shocked at the price of CDs, which were cheaper than the U.S. but too expensive for a local to afford. Two Mormon missionaries dressed in black suits and ties came in and we discussed the price of CDs. In my travels I often run across missionaries, but the ones from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints always lend a bit of surrealness to my surroundings. Young men dressed in suits, pasty white and always in pairs, they tend to stick out even in the United States so you can imagine how strange they would look in a record shop in Madagascar on a 90 degree day. I ended up getting a full Lola CD (not VCD!), and having the opportunity to listen to it before I handed over my money. “Analakely” is the third, and last, Lola song on my mix. Enjoy!

The co-author of “100 Things to Do Before You Die,” Dave Freeman, died two weeks ago at the age of 47. Here’s a short article. Perhaps this will help to persuade those of you putting off a RTW until you have more money, more time or fewer commitments that life is short.