Andrew

On Travel, Gap Years, & Self-Discovery

Andrew is a 24-year old programmer/digital nomad, based everywhere (but most recently, New York).

Interviewed: May 24, 2014

Tell me a little about yourself.

My name's Andrew. I'm 24, and I recently moved to New York after jaunting around Europe and Asia for just over a year. [JF: We attempted to do this interview in July 2013, when Andrew was in Bangkok and en route to Ho Chi Minh City. Doing this in person 6 months later was much easier than a sketchy Google Hangout connection, after all.]

This past year I visited: South Korea, Japan, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, Nepal, Myanmar, Taiwan, Germany, Poland, Netherlands and France.

What to you do right now, how did you get there?

Last time we chatted (in July 2013), I think I called myself a full-time traveler, part-time digital nomad. I did some freelance development work, but I invested most of my energy and focus towards the traveling bit.

I don't really know how I got here. Haha. I guess I've always seen myself following this path of school, work, white picket fence, retirement and it just kinda bothered me. I think I used to suffer a lot from FOMO and it just kinda hit me while I was working in DC that I never had a proper study abroad experience. And it just snowballed, and I got more and more restless, and I kept thinking back to this one spontaneous trip I took back in 2011... and so I left. Put in my two weeks notice, stuffed everything in a 32 liter backpack, and booked a ticket to Seoul.

And I'm glad I did. I think a lot of Americans have this mentality that you have to go to university immediately and find a job immediately. There's no room to breathe. Whereas, while hopping around, I met a ton of Europeans, Australians, South Americans that took time off between secondary school and university or university and work or just between jobs to enjoy themselves and experiment. It's a much nicer pace, I think.

It's kinda funny. I guess my life plan now is a lot like my travel plan. It started out very defined, with lots of obligations along the way and slowly morphed to a more laissez-faire endeavor. I really like the slow, hedonistic mode of traveling. It feels very liberating. I guess that's my attitude towards life right now.

Now that I'm back, I'm just slowly readjusting to living in the U.S. and catching up to the pace of life here. I've been catching up with a lot of friends recently. It's nice though. Even though things have changed, a lot of my interactions with friends haven't changed.

There is a reverse cultural shock. I was forced to adapt to uncomfortable situations so often, that it became routine. It's a little hard to be back. I think I have a better idea of how I think society should operate. But that's a pretty superficial and brash statement since I cherry picked these ideals and probably discounted a lot of societal mechanisms at work.

I think, fundamentally, I'm still the same person. I guess my perspective has changed a bit, but I don't think my core values have. Getting away from the the milieu of Penn and the yuppie life definitely empowered me to better identify my own taste. I think I know myself a little bit better.

There is a reverse cultural shock. I was forced to adapt to uncomfortable situations so often, that it became routine.

Tell me a bit about your family and how you grew up.

I grew up with a 6-person household with my parents, sister, and grandparents. Though, it felt like more since I had so much family around. One aunt lived in the house behind mine and another across town, about a 20 minute drive. My grandmother's two sisters also lived in my hometown with their kids and grandkids. I grew up around a lot of family.

I was definitely a "free-range" kid. I had a knack for sneaking into my elementary school's playground with some other kids in the neighborhood. I'd consider my childhood pretty relaxed. Aside from doing well in school, my parents rarely, if ever, pressured or steered me into anything. I definitely felt pressure to succeed growing up but I think most of it was the product of my ambition or self-induced immigrant guilt.

I did ground myself for a week once. I was a pretty well behaved kid growing up. I had latent a tomfoolery stage. But I felt left out so I told all my friends my parents had grounded me to fit in. I think I struggled with fitting in as a kid but thats another story.

What/who had the biggest influence on you growing up?

My grandparents had a big hand in raising me. It was a prototypal Chinese household since my grandparents lived with us, the family of their eldest son. My parents were present, but my grandparents shouldered most of the burden of rearing my sister from two until graduating high school.

In terms of what, I think a sense of obligaton profoundly impacted my childhood. Neither my parents nor my parents explicitly imparted this to me, rather it was manifested. Even though I wasn't aware of it then, hearing stories about my dad's childhood and seeing evidence of his upbringing when I visited China as a kid... It's hard to not compare the relative luxury of my livelihood growing up against his. Combined with a sense of immigrant guilt and filial piety as the first-born son of the first-born son, I developed a strong sense of duty.

On the one hand, it also nurtured a strong sense of ambition, but it was a very narrow ambition. I did well in school because I saw it as a a vector of success. I aimed for acceptance at a good college because it would also make my parents proud, the next step towards success. And I chased after internships and jobs in college. I was always chasing after something without considering what I really wanted. It took me while before I realized that my parents happiness correlated more with my own well-being than my lock-step definition of success.

Do you have a clear picture on what you want to do with your life?

Nope! But I really like the idea of embracing uncertainty right now. I think I went to work right out of school more because it was what I should do rather than what I want to do. I'm still figuring out the "what I want to do" part, but I think I need to think more about "what I want to accomplish" first.

I have redefined my personal definition of success though. Before, I had a very career-oriented definition of success. I was always asking myself questions like "How will this affect my career?" or "Where will/should I be in five years?" It took me a while to realize that 5 years is a pretty significant span of time. A lot of things can change. I think I'm going to experiment with a couple different paths in the next five years versus stickng to one trajectory. Who knows? I might stop development entirely and try out my hand at cooking professionally! I'm not sure if I'm kidding..

It sounds like your trip was formative to constructing your identity.

Definitely. I was pretty narrow-minded after I left college. I kept up with the things I should do like: internship, job, etc. but I didn't give much thought to self development. I think my trip was definitely eye-opening. At the very least, it gave me a lot of time to think.

Do you feel like you've escaped the "bubble" by traveling?

I think so? If you mean the the "Penn bubble", then definitely. Traveling gave me a lot of perspective and helped me better divorce my personal ambitions from the ambitions inspired and influenced by my peers. But I think I slid rather easily into a backpacker's bubble. It's funny, I remember talking to this lad from the UK who admitted he only traveled because everyone else was taking a gap year between university and work. I don't think he regretted the decision, but it was just a bit ironic.

Do you feel like it was a high-risk or calculated thing for you to do, to take a year off for unplanned travel?

I'd say it was a very calculated risk. I remember talking to my friend Patrick about this. He was my bike buddy on my motorbike trip in Vietnam. He did the consulting thing for 3 years. Moved to Australia to figure out what he wanted to do and ended up starting his own business. Now he's working for a non-profit in Nairobi. Unplanned travel is a potentially risky endeavor, but it can also be a very fruitful one too.

Did you have any particular goals or plans for the trip?

Sort of. I had a list of activities that I wanted to try like scuba diving and hiking up to Everest Base Camp in Nepal. I added to the list along the way. I learned to surf in Bali and my friend Jay convinced me to do a meditation retreat as well. [JF: Ah, I remember that week — no one had any contact with you and this was right after your email asking us if you should get a tattoo inked in with sharpened bamboo. We thought you died.] There were a few events peppered in there too like see the Full Moon Party in full swing and check out the hype around Berlin. But, main goal was more self-discovery than finishing a checklist.

There were some things that I regret missing out on like visiting India during Holi or Thailand during Songkran. But I stumbled serendipitously on a lot of amazing experiences too. In Taiwan, there is one festival where they mount fireworks on giant artillery racks that look like a beehive. Walls of fireworks. You put on a protective suit and run through a barrage of exploding fireworks. It's one of the five most dangerous festivals in the world. People are getting hit with fireworks left and right, and you could be blinded if you're not prepared. I did that in Taiwan. I put on a helmet. Some people went bare-chested, which is completely nuts, but everyone had a helmet. I escaped with 1 or 2 burns. One guy in my group got a 2nd or 3rd degree burn from a firework that just penetrated all of his clothing.

What mentalities have you come to develop while traveling?

I think I'm more extroverted. I've always been affable, but socializing was still an energy sink. I think I filtered myself more in the past. I'm less cynical now and focus more on "what do I have to lose" rather than 'what do I gain" from social situations. I think backpacking culture cultivates this. It encourages people to act truer to their nature.

I also consider impermanence as a concept more. It was something I picked up from a silent meditation retreat in Thailand. I find the idea of everything as a fleeting experience alleviating.

There's that old story about how you're happy to see someone from your town when you're in another state, and someone from another state when you're in another country. While traveling, were you more inclined to speak to Americans?

I'm gonna sound terribly racist, but I more readily engaged in conversation with white people when I was in Asia. I had a mental bias that there was a lower chance of a language barrier. I think part of me wanted to affirm them that I was a fellow backpacker. I tan easily and I was often confused for a local by foreigners and locals alike in Asia. Actually, in Germany too. A woman came up to me once and asked for directions in German when I was in Berlin.

How did you make friends with locals then?

It's pretty hard, actually. I had some friends seeded in various countries through school or friends of friends. And I was able to connect to counterparts in other countries: college-educated, young professionals, with a high degree of English fluency. But, extending beyond those spheres was pretty difficult. Most 'locals' I met were very friendly. But then again, I was mostly exposed to people in the tourism industry. You can befriend tour guides or taxi drivers or hostel employees and have real, unadultered conversation. But it's a very different kind of relationship. It's like a candid encounter with a stranger moreso than cultivating a friendship. I think couchsurfing helped though. I got involved with the community in a couple places and met some very engaging, interesting, and open-minded people. Most of the people I met were either travelers or fell into the counterpart category if they were locals, but I met people with wildly different life paths a few times.

In Taiwan, there is one festival where they mount fireworks on giant artillery racks that look like a beehive. Walls of fireworks. You put on a protective suit and run through a barrage of exploding. It's one of the five most dangerous festivals in the world.

Do you ever feel guilty or strange at being a "tourist", especially an "anthropologic tourist"? I know I sometimes feel guilty or uncomfortable going to certain areas, such as when I was being led to see the Karen tribe in Thailand — it gave me the feeling that I should see so-and-so people just because they were "exotic".

Definitely. Tourism is somewhat akin to a double-edged sword. I think activities like seeing the Karen tribe exotifies and dehumanizes them and their culture. But at the same time, people are also driving dollars into those societies which could improve their standards of living and help them escape a cycle of poverty. Or it could create a dependence on foreign money and perpetuate a somewhat perverse and potentially explotative form of travel. I'm somewhat glad you felt uncomfortable. I think people don't realize the feeling until they've experienced it first-hand.

I remember, in Cambodia, hearing about orphanages that charged a mandatory donation to volunteer or programs that placed people at orphanages for hefty fees. Cambodia also has a problem with fake orphanages; some "orphanages" comprised of kids hired, bought, or stolen from their families. Vetting orphanages and volunteer programs was a commonplace topic amongst backpackers in Cambodia. It's pleasing to hear that people want to be responsible, but I don't think people consider all the ramifications when they do things like volunteer abroad.

I remember meeting a group of Singaporean high school students on a mission trip in Nepal. Their local guide showered them with praise for their generosity and their efforts. It might've been genuine and I'm not entirely familiar with their program. But when I asked what they did with the kids, they said "sing songs and play with them". It was disheartening. Though noble in intention, I think a lot of voluntourism is more selfish than selfless. The money, potentially, has a positive impact. But I think an educational component for benefactors and a goal of sustained development for benefitors are crucial ingredients to forge a positive impact.

I'll finish with an anecdote I heard from another conflicted traveler in Myanmar. There's a non-profit that built a well in a village in East Timor. The women have to walk an hour every day to fetch fresh water. This non-profit came in and put a well there, but what happened after was that the women had two hours free every day. This society doesn't have the concept of leisure built in, so the women started doing work that the men was doing. The men didn't like that because they had extra leisure time, so it created this social instability in this village. The rate of domestic violence shot up 500% because it was creating conflict. The chieftain of this village was talking about destroying the well. This happens when you have a noble cause but you don't really investigate the possible effects of it on the society. Voluntourism is like that — noble intentions but no consideration of the aftereffects. It's one thing to teach people how to use technology, but another thing to blindly give it away. It's almost an imperialist notion.

How do you help international development organically?

Skill training is a good way people to contribute and cultivate sustained, organic growth. I think it helps to create opportunities for people to help themselves like that old "teach a man to fish" proverb. It's a longer process though.

I'm not sure if there's a good way to contribute in the short term. I think it helps to go through organizations that have considered the implementation very heavily, handling transitions and insertion into society, and considered both positive and negative ramifications. It's a very noble intention to volunteer and help. But I think, with few marketable/transferrable skills, it's hard to create a net positive impact.

What's your best traveling story?

This is tough. There were a few moments of pure, unadulterated bliss. I remember this one time, it was during hike through the Annapurna circuit, a tea house trek in Nepal. Usually, I hiked ahead and took care of the logistics for my hiking buddies as they filtered in. But one day, I hung back to hike with my friend Patty. She was usually the last one to arrive in my hiking group. It turns out she had tendonitis. She ended her hike early two days later. But I remember hiking with her and struggling to quell the go-getter side of me that wanted to just push forward. At one point, I saw her struggling after a long uphill so I took her bag and we started chatting. I learned a lot about her past, her family, her family problems, and her perseverence. She was happy because she wanted to set an example for her nieces and nephews. I think we were talking, just the two of us, for a good five hours before we rendezvoused with the rest of our hiking group. I remember one moment very vividly. We were about an hour from the next teahouse and the sun was beginning to set and I saw the mountain slice the sun light in half. So the valley we were trodding through was dark, but the sky was brilliant. It was a spectacle. There are probably others I could share, but that's the one that comes to mind right now.

What was the scariest situation you've been in?

Definitely after I crashed my bike in Vietnam. I had a huge cut on my foot.Cut doesn't do it justice. The top of my left foot was flayed off. [JF: Oh lord, the wound on your foot. Someone referred to it as the extra foot on your foot, it was swollen up that much.] I was so worried that I was going to lose my foot, and I was thinking this was the stupidest decision I've ever made. I remember freaking out on the two hour ride from my crash site to Hanoi. I was so frantic and flustered, I ended up stuck between an oncoming truck and a gaggle of bikes to my right. There was maybe an inch between my left handlebar and the side of the truck. At that point, I forced myself to calm down by reminding myself that things were impermanent. I was still alive. I still had family and friends. And I kept thinking, "I didn't spend ten days in silence to just forget everything when shit hit the fan."

Have you ever regretted leaving for so long?

I did while traveling. Looking back now, I don't regret leaving for as long as I did, but I do regret not staying still more often.

Do you think our generation has romanticism about travel and wanderlust? Was that confirmed or denied?

I think so. Travel is a lot more accessible for our generation. Flights are cheaper, communicative channels are better. The overall process is easier. On the positive note, people are widening their worldview and exposing themsleves to other cultures and ideas, not just from the places they visit, but also through the people they meet.

We're also the social media generation. We have a tendency to cherry pick the best parts of our trip and show them off on Facebook, Instagram, etc. I think it's easy to nurture FOMO in our social networks. It's easy to create this illusion of grandeur. I don't think it's any different from past generations. It's just more prevalent since the barriers to entry have lowered.

What was your perspective?

At the onset, I definitely romanticized travel. But a different type of trave. Don't get me wrong. I saw some gorgeous temples and stunning scenery. But it's easy to become numb to it after a while. I realized, after a while, that I was much more fascinated by the people and the encounters and the free flow of ideas and perspectives. I enjoyed the anthropological tourism a lot more.

How difficult was it to deepen these relationships?

When you're traveling, you end up a lot of "transaction friends". People are always coming and going; you say hi and bye a lot. You get really good at getting to know people really quickly. I like to think people, while traveling, are more open and behave truer to their nature, but that discounts a person's threshold of concern for social capital as a vector of a personality.

I think I read once that males typically form their strongest friendships through shared experiences. I think it was true for me while traveling. But I think the lasting friendships added in another element like shared hardship or an open exchange of ideas in order to elevate beyond the "transaction friend"-ship level.

Is that challenging for introverted people?

I'm not sure. I can see it being more difficult since backpackers were such a social crowd. But I think, with solo travel, people only socialized when they wanted to. I don't think backpackers had the same paradigm of interpersonal obligation like we do living in the city. I think the lack of social interaction is a more common pitfall than too much socialization.

I was so worried that I was going to lose my foot, and I was thinking this was the stupidest decision I've ever made. I remember freaking out on the two hour ride from my crash site to Hanoi. I was so frantic and flustered, I ended up stuck between an oncoming truck and a gaggle of bikes to my right. There was maybe an inch between my left handlebar and the side of the truck. At that point, I forced myself to calm down by reminding myself that things were impermanent. I was still alive. I still had family and friends. And I kept thinking, "I didn't spend ten days in silence to just forget everything when shit hit the fan."

How do backpackers finance themselves?

It varies. I met a lot of backpackers from Europe and Australia and even Canada that just took a few years off inbetween high school and college/university to work if they hadn't already entered the workforce. I'm sure some were bankrolled by their parents, but the people I met were largely an independent bunch. Then again, I might've been biased in the people I sought to socialize with while traveling.

A lot of backpackers finance themselves during their trip too. Everything from teaching English to taking one-off jobs like translating or proofreading. Some people partook in work exchanges like WWOOFing (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms; volunteering to work with organic farms and growers). It's a good opportunity to travel slowly and minimize expenses.

Personally, I probably spent just over $19k on this endeavor, inclusive of flights and the first few weeks of visiting friends in the US before I set off. It's very doable on a budget.

Could you have done this if you had been in a relationship?

It would've been a stronger pulling force to stay. It's possible though. I have a friend who's planning a year-long jaunt between her job and going back to school. I think it'll work out for her because she's in a very established, stable relationship and they both have a long-term outlook. I think it would've depended a lot on where I was in the relationship. It's hard to be present if you're always thinking of someone else. Also, travel flings are an interesting experience... (There's a documentary "A Map for Saturday" about a journalist who took a year off to travel. He filmed most of it himself while traveling. It offers a very raw depiction of the backpacker experience and touches on the notion of travel flings. I think he did it a few years ago, back in 2005.)

Were there any first world struggles you had?

Air conditioning. It's not like I need it all the time, but it was a source of a lot of first world struggles while traveling. A/C aside, I adapted my standards of comfort to my locale. I can go into detail about bad service this one time at place X, or the punctuality of this bus ride from A to B, but they were largely unmemorable and trifling. It's expectation versus reality.

Do you feel like you will be able to assimilate to normal life again after traveling for so long?

For sure. If I learned anything about myself, it's that I have a pretty good threshold for adapting to different settings. I think it helps to not have an illusion about traveling. Not that I'm disillusioned about the experience, but I think the ephemereal aspect of my sojourn is what made it special. It's a nice life to aspire to, a life where any work you do feels like leisure.

What advice would you give to people who are interested in going?

Do it! Just do it! Plan to not have a plan, even if just for a little bit. Check in with friends and family often. Get uncomfortable. Do it often. Try new things. Be a little bit selfish and self-indulgent. Don't be wary of the risk, the marginal risk is well worth it. It's a very enriching experience. ■