Yankee Upgrades

Growing up and living in America is a great thing, without question, but after traveling and experiencing other cultures, on opposite sides of the world, it is hard to say that there are not a excessive amount of improvements and upgrades that I believe would be welcome additions in the land of the free and home of the brave.

1)   Listen to “Happier” music. Anyone who frequents almost any club, bar, drinking spot with musical accompaniment in America will inadvertently encounter a negative sounding song within minutes most the time. With Rap & r&b and grunge rock with rebel alternative dominating the US music charts seemingly years on end, the vibe and overall feel of the US music scene always seems to drag with it a stigma of seriousness, stress, hardship and many times anger. This transfers over to people either a) standing in bars awkwardly, drinks in hand or b) grinding on one another harder than a bear trying to scratch its back on the nearest pine tree.  In Australia & New Zealand, the music carries with it more electro assistance, no question, but the music and emotions created by it also is undisputedly geared towards a happier audience. There is rap, but it’s not “hardcore” which tends to feature lyrics such as but not limited to blunt, bitches, handguns, sex positions and sick whips. Instead the majority is dominated by dance tracks that if anything else, make it almost hard to not join in dancing with every other person in the club. Furthermore, the music here forces you to actually attempt dancing, rather than the tried and tested male philosophy in the US of “Being the Pole” in which one merely has to stand within arms distance of a woman and let her do the work. In fact, after numerous attempts, I discovered the total negative opinion Australian’s have of “American Dancing”. Challenge – try to make an Australian woman “grind” with you to a song, you’d swear you had just asked her to have sex with you on the dance floor the way they react and run from such invitations, not to mention the other looks this dancing garners from everyone else in the bar.

 International women just “get it”. From fashion to conversations there is no question in my mind that foreign women, primarily South American, European and Australian women to name a few, ooze an aura of confidence, and self respect that is unrivaled by their USA counterparts. No matter the size, shape or color of them, in meeting and interacting with many foreign women, from many backgrounds, never did I sense insecurities that seem so rampant in America. I don’t know if it is the culture, one that embraces beauty and sexuality almost inadvertently by not acknowledging examples of it as much, but the women in this part of the world simply carry an heir of inner peace and comfort with themselves that I have not seen in the states. They are aware and accept who & what they are physically and emotionally and it transfers into making them not only so much more inviting to converse with but also highlights their superior confidence ultimately making them just that more attractive.  

 Every company in service & hospitality in America needs to have Sir Richard Branson do their hiring. I’m sitting in Brisbane airport as we speak, in the Virgin Blue terminal, owned by Branson, the music, media and flight mogul and I couldn’t look any direction across the circular concourse without seeing a beautiful woman in a khaki skirt and red top. This is not a freak occurrence, I have flown Virgin Blue airlines all over this continent and all of my teammates and friends would agree, Virgin must either a) Pay off the right people to circumvent the fair hiring acts which exclude looks as a determining factor, or b) own and operate their own personal factory in which they continuously crank out tall, gorgeous women to man their kiosks and aisles. Either way, I am not arguing and only wish more American Airlines would get on board with this hiring tactic. On a more serious note, Virgin does do a magnificent job in creating an aura of pride and esteem that working for them entails, from advertising campaigns to plane paint jobs, Branson has infused the rebel edge that helped him succeed in music into his airlines culture, and this probably accounting for why they receive such overwhelming amounts of “Qualified” applicants that they do. Kudos to you sir!

 There are 22 millions residents in Australia. There are probably at least another 1 million international visitors on extended visas living, traveling and working in the continent, generating excess revenue for the Australian economy in the millions annually. In every city, not only the larger metropolis’s, there is a plethora of backpacker accommodation, entertainment, and activity catering specifically towards the younger world traveler. It is no surprise that so many from all over the world flock to this massive island to make there own adventures. America does not have any such network. We don’t have the “welcoming” appeal to younger travelers to encourage them to come to the states to vacation, nor do we allow them to work temporarily with any sense of relative ease. But with affordable domestic airfare, bus lines and train services, and our natural advantage of size and economic prosperity (until recently) America already has the connectivity and network to become a very successful and attractive travel destination for this demographic of world traveler. In the hundreds of travelers I have acquainted, nearly ever one of them wants to go travel America, but the restrictions and obstacles, prices and lack of warmth by our government makes them turn to much easier, and more accessible nations such as Australia or South America consequently costing the American tourism industry millions of dollars every year.

 These are merely a few ideas and observations. Of course, all are my opinion, but then again, this is my blog. Disagree? Leave a comment! 

Forks

Why are life-altering decisions so difficult? Why is there always pro’s on both sides of the fence. Golden Gooses to the right, doors of opportunity to the left, and we seemingly always find our self stuck in the middle. A friend told me “They are what make life interesting.” Clever terminology to masquerade the mind wrenching, heart wracking and inner soul excavation that is constantly required to make sure we are on course, or at least, convince ourselves that we are.

My cousin walked down the aisle of his first marriage to the Cure’s “Should I stay or should I go?” – ultimately, he went – but the title is consistently proving itself appropriate for my current scenarios across the Australian Continent. On one side I have adventure, youth, inhibition and absolute freedom and personal independence. On the other, I have the love of family & friends, the access to hobbies and interests, which are non existent here, a strong network of support and pleasure from those close to me and much broader and applicable career opportunities.  And the line separating these two paths, only an umpteen thousand-mile body of water we affectionately refer to as the Pacific.

There are no exports in these choices, nothing you can take with you apart from the experiences and the memories. There is no cake and eating it to in this hypothetical café of life. Whichever way I go, I win, but in multiple ways I also lose. I feel like a politician, wanting so hard to make peace and amends with everyone, appease all those I care for, and satisfy all urges, but alas, such is life! Someone, or something always must be sacrificed, the constant opportunity costs of existence forfeited in the idealistic pursuit of happiness. Albeit if it is only in a majority more akin to America’s current political divide.

I have a habit of seeking advice and consult wherever applicable. I take what those close to me have to say very seriously, maybe too much. And what I’ve found from constant opinion mining is that eventually you step back and realize, everyone’s is different, and only one, at the center, really stands out as the one you must employ. Your own. Friends in America would “Kill” to be in my position in Australia, friends in Australia “drool” over the prospects of living in the states and having access to the lifestyle, which I take for, granted, much as we all do eventually. Every story in life has two sides, multiple viewpoints and different angles from which to approach and yet ultimately, it is always the author him or herself who makes the say on which way the tale winds.

Restlessness is a constantly occurring hindrance in my life. Not only does the grass continuously seem a shade greener beyond the fence, but also from my pasture, in today’s increasingly accessible world, I can see hundreds of potential destinations. Do I really have to pick just one? I seriously hope not.

I’ve read many texts, articles, watched videos, attended lectures, and consulted countless friends and acquaintances and amongst them all there truly only exists one common denominator of decision making. It’s not the mind. It’s deep inside each of us and as long as we breathe, it pulls the strings of our emotions, sways our thoughts, our decisions and when it doesn’t get what it wants, what you want, It makes little qualms in disrupting the status quo.  Use the heart to find peace, fulfillment and fun, then employ the mind to make the most of the “pasture” you settle in.

Furthermore, we will never know unless we try. I have long exercised this mantra in many aspects, from travel to sport, from love to heartbreak, we must put ourselves through the strainer, no matter how intimidating, risk littered, or uncertain the outcome may be. Like many mid twenties adults, particularly in today’s far from welcoming economic climate, we must employ such a strategy to hopefully find our selective “callings”.  With job security a relic of the past, and the concept of Employability – maintain and increasing your value as an asset to the company – now dictating the global workplace, many like myself struggle to settle in. But with each new experience, and thought, I am beginning to believe the term “settle” may warrant excommunication from my vocabulary.  

Live for the moment, we hear. Treat each day as if it is your last. Life is lived in the now. The cliché’s and mantras surrounding the philosophy can stretch across continents. Yet, every day, we find them so hard to follow, to implement, to invest faith in and tell ourselves, reassuringly that yes, everything will workout. That we will be ok at the end of the day. I struggle with this as much as the next person. Some might argue that my visions & expectations are too lofty for right now, that I can’t expect to attain such items without scrapping together a living on the ground floor first. And while this is true, I see life as a city, one with many tall towers. Although I have stepped in many and looked around, admired those inside, those entering and leaving, I still have not found the one in which I want to climb. But I will, and we all will. We can only hope to recognize it when we do enter.

Our paths and plans can never appear as clear, feel as right, or been seen as advantageously except through our own eyes, via our own hearts. The decisions we must subject ourselves to, the sacrifices we must fling into the fire and the hardships of dealing with such decisions while maintaining faith that they were in the right is a process that shows no mercy or reprieve on the human spirit. But the lens through which we see this process can be corrected, focused and filtered to develop a sense of appreciation for it. For these processes and deliberations are what make our scripts, and forge our frontiers. Each of us is different, and there is but one thing within all of us that we should consult and listen to in every time of thought or reservation. And when you really think about it, without such forks, could life really be as interesting? Nope. 

Linguistic Soup

Linguistic soup. That’s how I can describe the current language casserole I am enveloped in whilst living in a hostel with seven international roommates.  Germans speaking to Germans, Brazilians to Americans, Dutch to Japanese and vice versa in every other imaginable combination. Every day, with every conversation comes a foreign language lesson, not the type from high school, but content with real world application, such as being able to tell somebody to “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep!” in six different languages. It’s constant entertainment to go along with a little foreign education in the language arts.

Being around so many different tongues & accents really allows one to make effective notes of how select languages are structured comparably to one another. The French have a incredible ability to transition syllables into words, words into sentences and package it all in a subtle, eloquent oratory tone that gives the impression that they are hardly saying anything at all. The Germans, with pronounced syllables, and sharp, cutting differentiations in tone & volume and between words, have by far the hardest, most audibly imposing language. The South Americans, whether speaking Espanola or Portuguese are vivid in body language and linking their emotion to their phrases and words, and generally deliver the happiest most free spirited speech examples. Lastly the Japanese, with sincere and constant respect and modesty in even the most trivial conversation are brief and to the point and seem almost rushed to deliver their respective say so as to allow them to get back to listening as soon as possible.

The traveling backpacker life is a Petri dish of cultural and vocal collision. It forces each involved to make considerable attempt to learn and adopt ways of others. The ability to communicate effectively between persons in this environment takes on a much more basic and primitive style, as hand gestures, body language and facial expression are thrust back into primary focus in the efforts to convey meaning and intent effectively amongst various backgrounds. The act of conversing itself develops much greater life than we typically experience speaking with others of the same language. When you eliminate the benefit of understanding definitions of words, all involved must use any means and tactic possible to translate and educate those across the table from them and it makes for many interesting, often hilarious and enjoyable interactions.

As an American, I am very fortunate to have English as my primary language. Or It can be said that I have it easy. As every fellow traveler, no matter his or her background or country, has had at least moderately extensive training in English. The downside to this as an American who speaks very basic Spanish and French is that you almost feel guilty to constantly force others of other cultures to wrack their brains and minds to dictate and translate their thoughts and opinions into your spoken word when you can not even say more than “Hi” in their language. I hope to use this humbling experience as motivation to further expand my language learning in the future.

Another angle of this lifestyle is the similarity and commonality you find amongst all your fellow travelers. When we are sequestered in our homelands, surrounded by so many of the same, it is easy to develop opinions and thoughts of how different persons from these far way lands must be. Appearance, culture, strengths and weaknesses all are issues we rule on without every really knowing the truths, apart from previous direct experience, through travel or relations. But as someone who has experienced such things, when you are in a Australian bar, with a German, Brazilian, Englishmen, Frenchmen and Japanese, and you are all looking for women, the simplicity and scary identical tendencies and traits you all share quickly surface and it is comically obvious how we really are so much the same in the grand scheme of things. The same follows in sports, politics, music and hobby, as we all have the same reasoning and inspiration, with only the specific acts and focuses themselves differing due to exposure and culture.

I am very happy to have been able to experience such a cornucopia of linguistic expression throughout my travels. I love the variations in personality that each language exhibits. I love the interactions & communicable creativity that speaking different languages encourage and demand in order to establish understanding across the language barrier. And I love how underneath the frills and façades that language creates the true selves of people are always existent and easily comprehended. 

Life in Byron Bay

At the moment I live in a small surf town on the eastern most point of the Australian mainland. Byron Bay only boasts eight thousand registered residents yet see’s a daily influx of fifty thousand visitors from every walk of life. The town itself only consists of a handful of roads, and consequently these all remain packed shoulder to shoulder with pedestrian traffic during all hours of the day. The town is vibrant, even in the rain, which there is more than enough of. Classy boutiques, flash restaurants, boisterous pubs and clubs and countless art and photography galleries adorn the sidewalks. It’s a full sized city shrunk and vacuum wrapped in a pint-sized portion, perfect for the weekend escape or a daily reprieve for weary road warriors making their way up and down the eastern coast.

Living in a hostel/backpackers for the past three weeks has been an experience in itself. It is not my first hostel experience, nor do I think it will be my last. But the unique thing in being in one of these places is the constant flow of friends and acquaintances you meet and say goodbye to with every new day. It’s fun for many reasons as there is always a new crowd, with new energy and personality to make even the early weeknights entertaining. It’s also slightly frustrating as all too often you meet some really interesting, intellectual and simply fun people who you are disappointed to see leave so soon, such is life!

Europeans dominate the backpacking scene. At least in Australia. Of the thirty plus roommates I have had since being here, at least half have been German, another quarter English/Scottish/Irish with the odd Brazilian, Argentinean and one fellow American. With such a eclectic and revolving door of ethnicity and nationality coming and going, the conversations and debates I am witness to and partake in cover the entire spectrum of topics and tone. From government to culture, from overall national happiness to poverty and back, with each new face comes with it a story, and it is quite enlightening and informative to be able to hear of such experience.

It is particularly interesting to collect and gather opinions on America & Americans from these fellow travelers. The largest response I have found through conversation is that I am “Not like so many fellow Americans” who the words “Loud”, “Dumb”, “Arrogant” and “Fake” are very often associated with. Now, I do attempt to defend my fellow kind with the world, but it is hard to do so effectively when so often here the majority of my compatriots spend their time intoxicated and unruly. My theory behind this is that most Americans who travel here, are either a) studying abroad, usually in Sydney & Melbourne, and by being in Byron Bay, or any other small coastal town, one can assume that they are on break, or vacation, and that this party behavior should be forgiven, as we have all been guilty of such demonstration at some point in our lives. B) Are merely on vacation, in which again, the key focus is fun and relaxation, both of which happen to be complimentary emotions to alcoholic consumption, and it can only be expected to bear witness to unusually high amounts of aforementioned behavior.

As for my own observations, I have found the average world traveler to be much more independent and self motivated than the Americans I have encountered. Most all-international backpackers have come alone, and found ways to interact, belong and create & foster new relationships and networks. Most are all very educated, albeit younger than myself, typically ranging from 20-24. They do not party as much as one would expect, and hardly abuse alcohol or inflict any long-term strain on their bodies through sleep deprivation or substance abuse. Yet, a ridiculous percentage smoke, most rolling their own cigarettes as this is the most economically efficient way to survive on a shoe string budget when back packing. If there were three things that I could say everyone in the world shares a most mutual affection for, they would be Coca Cola, Cigarettes, and McDonalds. I intend to purchase stock in all three when my income is sufficient.

Another admirable quality I have noticed from the European and most international travelers are their ability to interact and befriend total strangers. All have been friendly, but also all have been very eager to introduce themselves, learn about one another and establish hour-long relationships as if they had known one another for years. It’s a fun and welcoming atmosphere to be a part of and as I said earlier, the influx of new information and experience you absorb from one another provides constant entertainment and education.

When the sun shines in Byron it is one of the finest beaches in the world. Being voted as high as third, in best world beaches in recent years, thousands scatter themselves amongst the sand and surf every chance they get, subjecting themselves to the merciless and microwave-like ultra violet rays the continent is known for. Sadly one in two men develop skin cancer during their lives here, and because of this, SPF 70+ is the only way to go, and you still tan! And the women here, there are no words to describe what I bear witness to every day; one can only visit for themselves.

The rain here is not rain, it is a monsoon. Coming and going almost in minute intervals, a thunderstorm in Byron can dump buckets of water on your head on the shortest imaginable notice. Days are routinely spent shuffling from the sand, to under balconies and back as tourists and locals alike dodge the weather as it morphs and winds in roller coaster fashion. On one night alone this week the rain was so intense that it doubled the total monthly average in only a matter of hours. My laundry hanging on the line took days to dry. At times the water can be refreshing and calming, but as I am discovering, after continual days of downpour, even the most spirited, enthusiastic individuals struggle to maintain such energetic personas.  Chalk it up to being spoiled in the Los Angeles sun for eighteen years of life.

My experience thus far in Byron has been great. I have met and interacted with countless new friends and global acquaintances, I have laid on amazing beaches, swam in some of the most beautiful surf in the world and have been able to do so while still staying in tune with the “outside” world, friends and family. It is a town that is deserved of a visit by anyone in this country and it’s vibrant life and bustling feel, though touristy, constantly keeps the city entertaining and alive. Although long term I doubt if I can stay in such a secluded paradise, I wake up refreshed and enjoyable every morning here and will never forget many of the experiences these past weeks have brought, the friends I have made, and the beaches & accompanying scenery I have been privy to. Byron Bay, worth a look.