Five Months

Twenty countries, two continents, three Visa's, 21 books, zero tattoos. Month five and I've craved Sonney's BBQ in South Lake Tahoe at least a dozen times. I salivate when I think of a shredded pork slider, dipped in bbq sauce. Or the lamb sliders. Then, when I think I can't cram another bite in my face, I dream of opening wide for a forkful of warm bread pudding, soaked in sea salt caramel glaze. If I were to have to fly back to Reno tomorrow (this thought makes me feel sick inside and I think I'd vomit if this were reality, which is a good indication that I'm nowhere near ready to come home), I'd take the long way back to Truckee and stop here for dinner, or breakfast, whatever. My other craving continues to be Trader Joe's, for nothing in particular, still just the tiny cup of free coffee and parousing the isles.

Month five and I've had two haircuts. Both short. One super cute. The other. Well, the other is growing out quickly. Let's just say I've been called "sir", "he", "him" too many times to count since my Laos haircut. The first night of sporting my new do, I went to a local joint in Nong Khiaw to enjoy the free movie (with purchase, I of course got the banoffee pie because it had the most calories and sugar). I was the only one in attendance and chose the movie, regretably "Idiocracy" (I only made it half way). A Laotian man, sitting behind me, asked what I was watching and as I turned to face him the look on his face turned to fear and confusion. He asked, "are you a he or a she", "I'm a she", "because from the back you look like a he", "yep", "I'm going to have nightmares now." Thank you? Why is it that when I am insulted I just laugh, awkwardly. So I just kept watching the stupid movie and tried not to let it affect me, but it did. I have never hated a haircut. I take pride in my lack of giving a shit when it comes to hair and makeup. But I'm not completely un-vain. I used to go to those cheap chain haircut places just to see how it would all turn out, it was an adventure and on sale days, quite cheap. Yeah, so my man-do came in under $4, including a straight razor finish, including my sideburns (apparently I have sideburns) and only a few dozen hair particles from the guy just before me. I reviewed the photo I had shown the hairstylist, yep, it's kinda close. But not really, at all. So, when in a tiny little town in Laos and you need your hairs did, when you say "one super cute, short and totally femine hair cut please" it translates to "I'm an 18 year old Laotian boy who is enlisting in the army this afternoon, go short".

Five months in and I want to vomit when I think of returning. I love Truckee. I love California. I have incredible friends and family there. I have a favorite gym, a favorite coffee shop, favorite road rides, favorite ski resorts, favorite winery, favorite summer and winter hang out spots. I have so many incredible things back "home". Why did I just put "home" in quotations? I don't know, it just feels right. Home is where the heart is, and it feels like I'm leaving little bits of my heart in most every city we visit. At this point, I'd say the largest part still resides in Truckee, but a large part is in Bolzano, Italy and a good portion is in Lakeside Pokhara. My heart flutters when I think of calling a European city, home. So, "home" feels like a broad term as I write this. "Home" currently has wheels, a passport and four pairs of shoes on display near the door of our stunning boutique hotel room in Hue, Vietnam (less than $9 a night, including an amazing breakfast and the best Vietnamese coffee). "Home" for a middle-class, middle-aged, white American is whatever I want it to be, wherever I want it to be. I am reminded of this privilege and beyond grateful that this is one of the many perks of being born an American.

Five months out and I've witnessed some of the poorest to be the most joy filled people. I've observed ways of living that are simple, affordable and rewarding. This way of life does not require botox, nice clothes, an iPhone 7 or even deoderant. I can actually keep up with the Jones' here, because it's spelled "cheap ass moped" and "that will be $0.23 for this delicious breakfast I just made you, on the side of the street, in a fresh banana leaf". I want this life, one where I wake up and do what I absolutely love. Where I feel joy as often as possible. Where all my needs are met and I still get to travel, often. I began this adventure with a few wishes. One wish was to find my next passion and make it into a career. Very early on I had an idea of what my next business adventure looks like. Actually, come to think of it, this would be my first business venture. Anyway, it combines creating, making, selling and doing what I love while supporting social issues that I am deeply passionate about. This idea continues to grow and when I think of how to make this my reality, I feel joy, I smile, my heart does a little dance. I realize that it doesn't really matter where I am, just as long as I am doing it. Then, I get excited to call Truckee home again, to have the support of friends and the backdrop of one of the most beautiful landscapes on earth. But still, I'm keeping my options open.

My dear friend, Femke, asked me early on how I was doing with spending money, while none was coming in. This was one of my concerns when planning for this trip. On previous trips Jason and I have taken, while we were both working, I've counted pennies. I've stressed over a dollar. We've stayed in some scary, dirty places, all while making the most money we've ever made. We often talk about this and laugh at my ridiculousness. "Happy wife, happy life"...even if she's a stubborn ass. My husband's a freaking saint. The first credit card bill we paid while on the road was anxiety provoking. It was a large bill and we both kinda felt a bit sick when we watched our savings drop. So we drank some wine, and reminded ourselves this is what we had allocated the funds for. The truth is, I don't worry about the money. We saved this money to do exactly what we are doing. So every time I open my wallet to pay for a meal, a taxi, a room I do it with pleasure, a little bit of pride and often a American Express advertisement flashes into my mind "priceless". This adventure, these experiences are just that, priceless.