vive la jenny

For whatever is ailin’ ya, a long weekend away can be just the thing to recharge and relax.  The best road trips unfold when the plan is to have no real plan at all.  Or maybe just a small, elastic pseudo-itinerary. Despite spending two months pedaling and meandering across Southeast Asia, my Australian travel log was still a little pitiful.  Pitiful, as in nonexistent.  I had yet to venture outside the Sydney city limits… and I had to find a remedy.  Itching for a change of scenery, I paired up with some good company and headed North.  Regardless of continent or culture, our adventure reaffirms my belief that there is nothing quite like the countryside (and the people in it) to restore your faith in humanity.

Captives of the public transportation system for just a little too long, we finally had 3 days of freedom in something that resembled a car, but built for a small troop of circus clowns.  But… clown car or not – this vehicle still took us wherever we wanted, whenever we wanted, so it was nothing short of amazing and beautiful in our eyes.  Operating a vehicle on the other side of the road caused some anxiety initially, but other than washing the windows every time we signaled the blinker, we were rolling like pros in no time!

The rest of our little adventure is documented in the snaps below:

On our getaway, WE…

…made some new mates

…and got a few stares from some locals

…were surprisingly charmed by tiny Bulahdelah NSW (and it had nothing to do with the pies!)

…had less than 3 standard drinks at a winery we found when we gave up looking for Australia’s oldest gumtree

…sunned ourselves at Seal Rocks

…and saw a boy and girl that reminded me of my baby brother & sister all the way back in East Texas

…spent our last winding hours of driving freedom parked, wandering the streets of Newcastle NSW

EL FIN!

It’s no secret that I haven’t been paying this blog as much attention as I intended to when I kicked off.  Turns out, behind the scenes… Mission 365 has stalled. It is not moving ahead at all.  It would be easy for me to blame it on the excuse of my choice, but it would only exacerbate my feelings of guilt surrounding the subject.  To spare us both I’ve decided to come clean with the truth:  I’ve been struggling with photographer’s block.

Be this a real condition or not, days keep passing that I haven’t picked up my camera and the guilt is snowballing.  In general, the creative juices have not been flowing freely since I returned from my sojourn overseas.  You’d think I would have been inspired by the whole thing, yet the few times I have ventured out with my camera, I haven’t found anything interesting to shoot.  It’s like I was over-stimulated and now I’m just frozen and numb, left to wonder if this has ever happened to anyone else.  I’m trying to work through it but deep down I’m terrified to think that I have stopped being able to see the beauty of everyday life.  It is so unfair of me to compare, but the best I can do is try to illustrate my struggle:

What I saw when I was traveling:   The soft light from the last hour of a long day shimmered over the ribs of a lone white cow, grazing its way through a harvested rice field.  The dust from an unpaved road was stirred into a thick cloud by passing motorists.  It captured the dusky light and transformed it into a golden, glowing mist that hung heavy over the buzzing village households.  I couldn’t even reach my camera, because I needed both hands to steer my bike away from colliding with a group of young boys, running home after a swim in the river.

Now:  I’m walking down a residential street near the ocean.  These houses are huge.  I wonder what these people do for a living?  That fence is kind of a cool color.  Meh, no… not really.  I’m trying too hard.  Someone is jogging with their dog.  A mum is pushing her new baby up the hill in a stroller.  Almost hit by a speeding car as I crossed the street.  A group of three waits for a city bus that will never show up at the scheduled hour.  A man steps out to his balcony to check the surf in the distance.  The blues of the scene fade to varied shades of gray as rain starts fall.  I can reach my camera but I leave it in its case.

I don’t know what my deal is!  Maybe I saw too many colors.  Maybe I encountered the hospitality of too many people who have so little, but happily offered it all.  Maybe there were too many baby animals.  Too many cute kids.  Too many vibrant sunrises and sunsets.  It’s obvious I was moved by my experiences, but have I been so moved that I can’t appreciate my present settings anymore?  I sure as hell hope not.  It is the same sun and the same moon that rises and sets over the place I call my current home.  I’m trying to remind myself…

While I’m in confession mode I’ll also volunteer that I have not always been aware that there was more to photography than pressing the button on a camera.  Although I come from a family that has always enjoyed photography as both a profession and a hobby, it is not really my style to go along with things I haven’t discovered for myself.  Perhaps I’m too independent or just plain stubborn.  Either way… not too long ago, there was once a moment of enlightenment, several thousand miles high in the air.  For no reason at all, I stopped mindlessly flipping the pages of my in-flight magazine.

There it was:

Robert Plant.  Blue ring.  Blonde curls flying.  Love.

Gregg Delman

Something about this photograph, made me realize that photography is a form of art.  It is not just a portrait of a man, but an expression of his style.  A glimpse of his attitude.  A thoughtfully constructed display of personality.

Just shy of a year ago (post-enlightenment), I received something very special on loan from my grandfather – his DSLR.  Taking my first photo with a big girl camera made me realize, not only is photography art, it is a technical skill.  There are a lot of buttons, cryptic letters, and features I did not understand.   The first photo I took was completely black (and yes, I remembered to remove the lens cap).  After starting my digital photography course, I was able to take an actual photograph.  In focus too!  That camera stole my heart and drove me crazy.

Maybe that’s the part “those people” never mention when they talk about doing something you love.  There must be different types of love: mindless love and challenging love.  Probably 90% of the reason I’m keen on yoga is because someone else telling me what to do in a soft, soothing voice.   I love mindless activity, but I get bored.   It isn’t enough to keep me satisfied.

And then there is the love I feel for photography, which doesn’t even sound like love at all.  It is challenging.  Hard.  Something I always have to work at and stay vigilant for.  Something that has taken my self-criticism to new heights.  Something I’m struggling with.  But… photography is also something that sweeps me away.  Allows me to notice the tiny details of life.  Reveals shapes, colors, textures, and shadows.  Makes me feel like I’m seeing things for the very first time.  Captures a moment you don’t have words to describe.  Forces me to take on multiple perspectives.  Brings me to live in the present moment.  Stops the blur of how fast time flies.  Allows me to create art out of what was there already.

Coincidentally, I came across an interesting quote around the time I realized that Mission 365 was dwindling.  “Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst.” – Henri Cartier-Bresson.  I’ve surely passed that figure by now.  And perhaps this whole struggle is me getting over wanting to take pictures of just anything to practice my techniques.  Maybe now, I need to start taking photos of things that mean something to me… subjects that show emotion, like the catalyst of this whole crazy venture.  I’m not giving up, just realizing I need to work harder and use this block to build on.  It’s twisted how something that drives me so crazy can be so rewarding.  When it isn’t driving me crazy.

And if I’ve learned anything from that legend Walt Disney in my 24 years of life, it’s that love is worth fighting for.  Better suit up.

(P.S. I realize this post may sound like I’m stopping the photo blog.  But, I’m not.   Just sorting through some stuff.)

The rumors are true.  I am back in Sydney after eight invigorating weeks in Cambodia and Laos.  Surviving my big-girl 1000 km bike ride is a little something I’m giving myself a pat on the back for.  Most of which, was done with a smile (but let’s be honest, not all of it).

Friends keep asking for anecdotes from my travels.  Of course, I have millions.  Even in times of rest, there was always something happening.  There must be at least one story for every hour of my journey.  Yet the past couple times I’ve been faced with this question, I have found myself choking on my own tongue trying to describe what I felt and saw.  I was so moved by every single second I spent overseas.  So touched by every random act of kindness.  So struck by the colors, landscape, and people.  So caught up in the energy.  So devastated… to think these places might change from exactly the way they are before I have an opportunity to return.

The words will come with time, but for now I’m struggling to make sense of it all, still very much intoxicated with the beauty of Southeast Asia.  Even though I’ve left and tried to resume some sort of routine, those experiences are clinging tight.  My dreams have been more vivid than I can ever remember, despite the fact I stopped taking my anti-malarial tablets weeks ago.

So – I’m not searching for the words yet.  For now… I’m just looking.  Maybe you’ll catch my drift when you see.

Still sorting through my photos, so there are more where those came from!

x,

Jenny

Except in the pre-dawn hours of the morning, having the road all to oneself in Southeast Asia is fairly uncommon. The energy created by constant flowing streams of people between point a and point b is, well… energizing. If there happens to be a dull moment, you can be sure it won’t last. My favorite of all the transportation devices we’ve shared the road with is the ubiquitous overloaded motorbike. “Metal Cow” tractors coming in a close second, and old fashioned oxen carts finishing in third. Cute school kids 3-deep on bicycles have been removed from the running for purposes of getting to my point in a reasonable amount of time. You’re welcome.

Motorbike cargoes come in all shapes & sizes including (but not limited to): flocks of chicken, litters of piglets, living room sets, every extended/immediate family member (7 is the record), rice sacks, kites, 20 ft bamboo shoots, and whole vegetable harvests. And if the forces of the universe could plug their ears for a moment… I’ll admit I have yet to see any of the towering loads take a spill.

It was the day I + luggage (not small) took a motor-taxi up an unpaved, pot-holed road when I first realized that packing your motorbike is a craft that reflects a deeper set of life values. Going on my 5th week in the Eastern world, I’ve observed these values demonstrated elsewhere, but none provide as much of a summary as the motorbike.

The Values of Packing a Motorbike

1) Efficiency // If you’re commuting from somewhere rural, one trip makes an enormous difference
2) Creativity // As someone who is always searching for creative inspiration, I took a few notes. Although I don’t know who Plath is I will quote him anyway saying “The worst enemy of creativity is self-doubt”. Believe you will pack your bike one story high with baskets and you will.
3) Balance // literally & figuratively
4) Friends & Family // My initial shock in seeing the large loads was associated with the idea that I could never replicate anything even close… but I was wrong to think only about myself. Eventually I realized no individual has ever packed some of the more impressive loads without the help of friends, family, & (speaking from several encounters) completely selfless strangers

Life moves fast, but people seem really calm about it – a striking difference to the side of earth I call home. One great thing I’ve noticed about philosophy is… you live it. And that’s that.

On the morning of (what I thought was) my last day of work in the city, something shiny caught my eye while I was waiting in the queue to buy my train ticket.  It wasn’t just shiny — it was copper.  And it was also on the floor between the legs of a middle-aged man.  I opted not to reach for it, so I stared until I could get a closer look.

It was a penny.  Heads up, no less!  A shiny penny!  Seeing my home currency felt like seeing an old friend.  Embracing Abe in my tightly clenched fist, my mind started to race while my body did the same to catch the train.  Finding a heads up penny outside of the States has to be extra lucky.  And finding it in a country where complete strangers, only after finishing with the topic of George W, have lectured me on the stupidity of the one cent piece… well, this penny must be extra, EXTRA lucky.

Sidenote :: Is it obvious that I’m dancing around admitting it has been 30 days since my last update (now actually even longer, from when I started drafting this)?  Life began to move very quickly once I started working full time and training for my 1000k cycling trip (donate, donate, donate), and we do what we can to get by.  Psst…(Donate here, please)

So back to my thoughts on luck… I once heard something on the subject that stuck with me.  I’m sure someone famous probably said it and when they did they said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity”.   Even if we don’t know what it is we’re preparing for, we can prepare for adversity and prepare ourselves mentally to be open to change.  I’m not even sure of how this quote will end up applying to my life, but I think that is kinda the point, right?  We do what we can to better ourselves, keep our minds and hearts open, and cut ourselves enough slack to enjoy the ride.

Speaking of rides… I’m down to two weeks before my 1,000 km cycling tour and feeling the pressure.  Things that are helping me stay calm are that two of my friends joined on the ride with me so I have training buddies and good company for the journey.  Also easing some anxiety is knowing that the funds we raise will go towards an awesome cause and support the efforts of an amazing NGO (who I can’t wait to meet!).   Seriously, they’re awesome.  I think seeing and meeting all the kids they help in person will be something very moving when its time to dig deep on the ride.

Buuuuut….. let’s get real — I’m about to spend the majority of 19 days sitting on a padded piece of metal, of very little surface area.  Even though I’ve been training, I’m scared.  I know exactly what I am preparing for on paper, but as far as what I have seen and felt and experienced - I don’t “know” know.  I’m preparing for the unknown.  Even though this obviously makes me a little antsy, I accept it.  Quite frankly, I don’t really have another option so it is best to make my peace with it now.   While there are some things about training that make me a little unhappy, there are a few things about it that make me really happy.  They are:

-You can make your own breeze on a bike

-I constantly have bike grease somewhere on my legs or arms, even after a shower  (I can’t explain why I love this… it feels like I’m wearing a medal of honor or something)

-The park I ride around will sometimes have flocks of 20ish cockatoos, just walking around on the grass – gorgeous

-This park (Centennial Park) also always has people riding horses around it

-One last cool thing about the park… it had Leonardo Dicaprio in it during the past couple weeks – hubba, hubba (filming the Great Gatsby)

-Music is not really safe to listen to on a bike, but if the road is clear or I’m on a stationary… man, is music a powerful thing to help when I’m bored or tired and my quads are screaming at me

-I am having to rely at lot less on the public transport system (which is a bit of a nightmare in Sydney)

-I can eat as many carbs as I want, and boy do I

Thank you so much to all of you who have donated and shown your support!  You can still donate here if you’d like – every little bit makes a difference.  If donating is something you can’t do – just keep me in your thoughts between December 28th – January 15th.  And… not to be needy, but if you want to voice this to me… I would be pleased as punch.  Phone, email, Skype, blog comment, facebook, twitter, carrier pigeon – I would LOVE to hear from you.  I’ve gotten to speak with some people I haven’t talked to in years while fund-raising for this ride, and that moment when the separate lives you’ve been leading come in contact again, is SUCH a rush.

Oh. Pictures, you say?  Is that what you’ve been looking for?  Yea, I have those too.  Being that this will be my last blog post until after I come back from Cambodia, I figured I’d pull out all the stops and give you everything I’ve got since my previous post.  Below are some of what I’ve been most proud of recently – my black and whites.  Due to the number of them I had to create a flickr album for all the rest, which you can view here: The 30 Day Blur.  I’ll be honest… the numbering system is a little shady compared to what I’ve done in the past.  I know for a fact I missed at least 3 days, and somehow I ended up with over 30 final photos from the past 30 days.  Hmm… Oh well!  One thing I did get straight is that the first of the photos below marks my 100th day in Australia.  That’s all that matters for now.

If you like that last photo, you should check out the video of what was going down that night here.  It was SICK (when sick means cool).  Warning winter birds, it may cause feelings of extreme season envy.  But don’t get too worked up because we’ve certainly had our fair share of rain and chilly weather in Sydney over the past month!  I also finished uploading the album from Sculptures by the Sea if you are looking for more ways to kill some time.  I’m off to log some miles.. er… kilometers this afternoon.  Remember to give me a shout if you have the time!

Happy Trails,

Jenny

So yeah…  1000 kilometers is probably the equivalent of all the workouts in my lifetime combined.  That may not be true, but it is a pretty big number to look at when you’re starting out.  I have wanted to join the annual PEPY ride for a few years, but I probably bit the bullet a little later in the year than some of my future fellow riders.  Not too late (as I have polled from everyone I see with or near a bicycle), but late enough not to waste any time lollygagging about this training thing.  I generally try to keep pretty active, but in the past have had the most success in doing so through group exercise, i.e. bootcamp.  Bootcamp and group exercise were the perfect solution to biggest beef I have with strenuous exercise — my racing mind.  If I manage to work out independently doing an activity other than cardio autopilot, it usually goes something along the lines of “One… two.. three… ihatethis… five… thissucks… seven… isitover… nine…” and by “10″ I have convinced myself that 15 reps are no different than 12 reps, or that whatever number I made it to is better than nothing.  It is better than nothing, but I want to accomplish something don’t I?  Sure, I’m not riding 1,000 km tomorrow… but something has to be done to break it down into pieces I can chew.   Although it doesn’t sound like a very sophisticated plan – as long as I keep doing something more than the last something, I have to believe I’m moving closer to my goal.  I’ve also come to find out that I am not the only person questioning, “Am I (is she) ready to train for a ride of this distance?”

Of course not!  How can you be ready to take on your biggest physical challenge yet, when you have no prior experiences to compare it to?  Like I said before, the most terrifying part of this whole training process is that the only party involved is me; the one with the lazy and vocal mind.  Of course I care about being healthy and staying fit.  However, when looking back to analyze the exact point of descent of my failed fitness routines, I gained some shameful insight to which I confess: doing something just for myself isn’t enough to keep me going.  It’s not that I’ve stopped caring for my well being, but being the best version of yourself, for yourself, when you’re by yourself?  That’s just exhausting.

While reading some news about a close friend mine a couple days ago, I was crossed with processing the challenging information at hand while still dealing with the moral guilt from realizing I was not motivating enough.  As it often does, my mind started to wander until it reached a memory of a similar internal struggle Liz Gilbert went through in the book Eat, Pray, Love.  While living on an ashram in India, she struggled to still her mind during the daily meditations.  She felt incredibly frustrated by the whole thing, until someone suggested her to focus on channeling her energy to someone very dear to her.  She picked her nephew.  That afternoon, I picked Emily.

I think that was all it took.  If I can’t do it for myself, I’m going to do it for someone else.  Somehow, that thought alone, helps me push through when it really, really hurts (and by hurts, I mean burns!).  After sharing my ride through Cambodia and what it supports, several people have already been kind enough to make their contributions to support our goal (you can too here!).  There are plenty of reasons why PEPY’s cause has become my cause, but I am so personally moved to have your support I almost feel kind of selfish.   I mean, I totally know this is not all about me!  But… through your support, messages, and donations it feels like you really believe in me to prepare for and finish this ride.  Now THAT is motivating.  So every ride and every run goes out to you, one at a time.  Oh, and the kids too, of course.

After this lengthy post, perhaps the only thing left to wonder is if I have abandoned my Mission 365 self-assignment to become a novelist.  No friends, I have not.  Despite the lag in updates, it is still going on and it gets more challenging every day.  Like the bike ride, I know good challenges help build character.  The photos are in a little different format than before since I had so much to catch up on, but here ya go!  Favorites first, a collage of all the rest, and Sculpture by the Sea flickr album coming soon.

Day 55. Tuesday, 25/10/2011 :: Glenayer Graffiti Garden

Day 65. Friday, 4/11/2011 :: Sculptures by the Sea.  A happy accident.

Day 69. Tuesday, 8/11/2011 :: Arvo Storm aka “Thundery Rain”

Day 70. Wednesday, 9/11/2011 :: Beach Rugby

The Rest.

Thanks for the support so far.  We’re making progress, but we’ve still got to meet our goal.  I’ll be thinking of you.

x,

Jenny

Sues’day (សួស្តី) Everyone!

Sues’day (phonetically pronounced ‘sue-saw-day’) is the Cambodian greeting for “hello” in the Khmer language.  I am so pleased to share: This Dec ’11 – Jan ’12 I will be participating in the 7th annual PEPY Ride – a 19-day, 1000km (620mi) cycling tour that supports and raises money for educational and social development programs in Cambodia.  That means Day 119 through Day 137, Mission 365 is trekking it over to Asia – but I need your help!

Three years ago I read an article on Voluntourism that featured an international non-govermental organization (NGO) called PEPY (Protect the Earth, Protect Yourself). Driven primarily by development projects concerning the education system in Cambodia, this organization works to improve the quality and accessibility of education in the poorest rural areas of the nation. The current state of education in Cambodia is a particularly pressing topic, and is still heavily impacted by the devastation of “Year Zero” under Khmer Rouge rule.  To name a few of many problems – the literal extermination of Cambodia’s educated population left the country with a shortage of teachers, schools, and resources to instruct the next generation of young Cambodians.

Through PEPYS’ programs they have done everything from building schools to training teachers to providing Cambodian children in rural areas with bicycles to ride to class. To raise the funding necessary to continue operating the programs, PEPY founders hosted their first fundraising cycle trip through Cambodia in 2005. The tour gave donors, investors, and volunteers the opportunity to see the benefits of their contributions first-hand, and the platform for the annual PEPY Ride was born.  The cycling adventure begins in Siem Reap and “ends” in Kep on the coast of the Gulf of Thailand, stopping along the way at a number of community projects sponsored by PEPY and other NGO’s.  “Ends” is a term used loosely because the required fundraising contributions from each rider will be channeled back to the programs visited on the tour, long after the bike tour technically ends.  This experience will be life-changing, and I hope that you’ll share this incredible adventure with me by supporting me in my fundraising efforts.

My goal for this trip is to raise $5,000 or more. Would you please consider making a donation of whatever you are comfortable giving to help me reach my goal?   If you haven’t been convinced yet, I hope you will let me share the reasons this cause means so much to me.   You can make your donation by following the link to visit my personal fundraising webpage, where a breakdown of the fundraising goal has been provided.  As always please don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions you have about donating to this worthy cause.

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter.  I know in my heart and my lactic muscles, this ride is going to be one of the hardest physical challenges I have ever put myself up against.  Your support will help me find strength to push through those very tired moments to keep working towards improving education in Cambodia. Lastly, if I could ask you for one more thing – will you please forward this email to your friends, coworkers, and family to help me spread the word about PEPY Ride VII?

Thank you in advance for your generosity!

x – Jenny

MAKE YOUR DONATION HERE