A Conversation with My Traveling Self

My trip, as expected, did not go as expected. After traveling down Thailand's coast in a slow crawl, I finally arrive at the school I’d be teaching at only to discover it’s been shut down. While the news that I’d have to teach online was deflating, I figured at least I’d get to explore the country a bit more. If all I need is my laptop, I can teach from anywhere, right?

Wrong. The government had other ideas. Because of COVID, trains and buses were limited, testing was required whenever leaving or entering a province, and many transportation services had to shut their doors. It became very difficult and expensive to get around the country.

To add to the excitement, within the first few weeks of my trip I step on something sharp at the beach and acquire a nasty foot wound. By morning, it’s infected. 48 hours in the hospital and a minor surgery later, I am advised not to swim, bathe, run, hike, or go to the beach. Which eliminates most of the activities I hoped to do.

Having come this far, I wasn’t going to let unexpected joblessness, government restrictions , and physical debilitation stop me. Besides my homebase in Bang Saphan, I manage to get to Hua Hin, Surat Thani, Khao Sok, Koh Phangan, and Phuket. Almost every destination is deserted, though. No tourists means no business, and places I know would otherwise be filled with exotic sights, sounds, and smells are totally abandoned.

Now, when people ask me about my trip, I recall some of these moments that could be considered inconvenient. And yet there were an equal number of beautiful, joyous, and satisfying moments. Why don’t these come to mind as readily?

It turns out I’m not the first to wonder. Psychologist Daniel Kahneman documented a phenomenon called the “peak-end” rule, which dictates that when reflecting on an experience, we determine how pleasant it was by its most intense moments and its final ones. This means that even if a trip is long, relaxing, and blissful, a few bad moments can destroy your memory of the trip as a whole.

Essentially, the “experiencing self” (the version of you in the moment recording emotions and sensations) and the “remembering self” (the version of you that looks back and rates an experience) can disagree significantly in their assessments. This is a problem because often, our memory of an experience is all we have. We can’t magically transport ourselves back to the trip in question and re-experience those emotions and sensations.

That is, unless the experiencing self decides to document everything along the way in detailed journal entries. Which he did.

I therefore have not just my memory of the trip, but a fairly accurate record of my in-the-moment thoughts. I did have some inconvenient moments and the end of my trip was also disappointing, so I should be a classic victim of the “peak-end rule.” To avoid that fate and salvage my memory of this trip, I’m going to consult with the version of myself that was actually doing the experiencing. That way, I can be sure I’m getting an accurate picture.

So please enjoy this interview with my traveling self.

All of the quoted responses are excerpts from the journal which I kept while traveling, edited very lightly for clarity and tense. But this is really what I was thinking. Current me reflecting on my trip, A.K.A. the remembering self, will be doing the questioning.

Remembering Self (R.S.): So, Jared, you spent a whole 14 days alone in a hotel room outside of Bangkok. What was that like?

Experiencing Self (E.S.): “Yesterday, while doing single-leg-squat thrusts, I couldn’t help but watch my foot muscles strain, twitch, and flex while trying to keep the balance. The longer I stared, the more stark the following fact became: I am a strange, hairless primate only slightly more advanced than my chimpanzee cousins.”

R.S. : Umm.. okay… sounds like you had plenty of time to think. But after that, you went to Hua Hin, where the XPloreAsia headquarters is, for a few days to take some classes and meet some other Western teachers. It was then that you learn that the school originally slated to hire you could no longer afford to. How did that make you feel?

E. S. : “For a few days I started to question why I was here and whether it would be worth it to stay. The people I became close with had to up and leave just as quickly as they came… They all found their placements, and I was less eager to be super outgoing with the incoming group. Everyone was great, but I didn’t want to do the same thing over and over again.”

R.S. : How did you respond to no longer being promised a job? What was it like being stuck in Hua Hin with no idea what you’d be doing with yourself?

E. S. : “Hua Hin was starting to feel small, and I realized while watching Netflix in bed that I could just as easily be doing that at home. I needed to exercise my sense of adventure. Thank goodness, my new friend Tommy Stevens had the same idea. So here we are on a sleeper train for 6-8 hours headed south, and the excitement of the unknown is rushing into me like a breath of fresh air.

Yes, these really came from my journal entries.

R.S. : And it sounds like your mood has improved a bit… is that correct?

E. S. : “Only in this context could I possibly be so happy to just be reclined on 5 inches of padding with no entertainment but this notepad and Sometimes A Great Notion. Although I mentioned in my first blog post that ‘happiness happens in the brain,’ I do have to cede that the context must have some effect. I could be in an even more comfortable bed with even more entertainment options at home, and I would almost certainly be less content.

Anyways, I’m excited to be on the move again. I’m already looking forward to next summer’s adventures, but allow me to remind myself to fully enjoy this one before it’s over.”

R.S. : How nice… I’m glad your spirits were lifted. So next, you’re at Khao Sok national park, which I later learned is what remains of the oldest tropical evergreen rainforest in the world. What was it like for you and your friend Tommy to explore that?

E. S. : “On paper, the journey was a miserable failure. The landmarks that we did get to were horribly underwhelming, and the ones we needed a guide to get to were seemingly much further than the pen-on-paper doodle map suggested. We therefore did not get to them, but I imagine they wouldn’t have been that special either. There was nothing spectacular about this national park. But it was still worth it for the challenge, and the jungle atmosphere was nice when it wasn’t slowly killing us.”

R.S. : Well, at least you made it out alive with a story to tell. Did your experience improve once you got to your next destination? It certainly sounds nice – a bungalow floating on Lake Khao Sok. Can you describe how you are feeling in that moment?

E. S. : “It’s hard to capture how I’m feeling because I’m not feeling all that much. I thought I would be constantly awestruck, and the fact that I’m not is worrying me. I’m on a cabin porch floating on pristine, glassy waters in the middle of an ancient jungle. Joy shouldn’t be hard to find here, so I wonder what’s holding me back. It’s awful lonely, but I typically relish in that. This is the purest available form of solitude. Since the surroundings are perfect, I can’t help feeling the lack of satisfaction is an internal problem.”

R.S. : No need to be so hard on yourself. You're only human. Hopefully it comforts you to know that looking back on it, it was nice. Anyways, after that, you head back to Bang Saphan, where your apartment is located, for about a week. But I’m noticing quite a gap in your journal entries during that time… can you explain?

E.S. : “In the previous few weeks I’ve felt much less motivation to write. It’s barely even crossed my mind. Ever since my purpose for being here was practically yanked from beneath me, my mind has been occupied with questions that are much less easy and fun to answer. Ones like ‘why am I here?,’ ‘is this worth my time?,’ and ‘how can I spin this as a positive?’”

R.S. As difficult as it was to answer those questions, don’t you think it’s healthy to exercise your positive-thinking muscles in increasingly desperate situations?

E.S.: “That’s not always so clear in the moment… and I’m not convinced that every struggle is a productive one. Discontent with one’s circumstances, if it is to be experienced, should at least be taken advantage of as motivation to change those very circumstances. Beyond that, it is useless. But that’s no solace to someone who’s in the thick of it. Despair doesn’t feel very motivating.”

R.S.: Ok but right on time, a Buddhist holiday shuts the schools down and gives you a week to do some exploration. Surely that lifts your spirits, right?

E.S.: “I’m on the upper deck of a charming ferry, gigantic diesel engine rumbling below me, through the Gulf of Thailand to a tropical island few will ever get to visit. That’s exciting. If there’s any fun to be had, it’s here, by me.“

R.S.: But the fun doesn’t last long, does it? Because within 48 hours you have acquired quite a nasty wound which puts you in the hospital. You must have been devastated…

E.S.: “I am impressed with myself for how unaffected I was when I was told that a minor injury I got was now going to need surgery at a hospital on a small island off the coast of Thailand… I found myself laughing once again at the absurdity of the situation I ended up in. I felt gratitude for modern medicine… for the countless staff members who have been kind, humorous, and most of all great at their jobs. I was elated after I was escorted to a clean, comfortable hospital room where I realized I would have no responsibilities to fulfill for the next 24 hours except to relax, rest, and heal. I’m happy that I’m feeling exactly the pain the doctor said I would.”

R.S.: Laughing, gratitude, elation, happiness… it seems you are relishing in the suffering…

E.S.: “I’m almost sadistic about it. I must try to explain this because I’m not even sure why I’m doing things like refusing to call the nurse for some pain relievers even though my foot is in excruciating pain. Or why after skipping breakfast, I felt ‘well, I’ve made it this far,’ and also refused a free lunch that would have been delivered to me in my hospital bed. I figured it would make things harder. Which it is.”

R.S.: Stranded alone a thousand miles from home, stuck in a hospital unable to go out and experience, and in extreme physical pain. These should be moments of anguish… and yet among all this you manage to find some peace. How is that possible?

E.S.: “Perhaps it’s a perfect brew of brain and body chemicals combined with the strange situation I find myself in. But it feels something like total content with the present state of being. It’s not perfectly persistent, though. I’m oscillating between feeling like the most earthly parts of me do the writing while whatever is left is allowed to wander, and my ego once again grappling for the control it has momentarily lost. The latter feels like thinking super hard about what to say, while the former thinks it’s silly to even put words to the experience, since that would be missing the point. Either way, this is the state of mind I’ve been desperately pursuing. I knew I was capable even if the events of the previous few weeks would have made it impossible for a weaker me to realize.”

R.S.: Of all the circumstances, who would have thought it’d come in a hospital bed. Anyways, thanks for your time, former me. Any closing remarks? Overall thoughts on the trip?

E.S.: “The constant euphoria I expected to enjoy was mostly replaced by uncertainty and doubt. But there were moments that made it worthwhile. Moments that I would have never enjoyed if I never decided to take the leap. In between those I was given many an opportunity to build my keep-your-shit-together muscles. I doubt I’ll have another test like that for some time.

If nothing else, I have gained confidence in my ability to deal with the unknown.”

E.S.: Thank you Jared for your time and readers for your attention. In case any doubts remain, I'd like to assure both of you that I think I've avoided the trap of viewing my trip as anything but a once in a lifetime adventure (thanks to this interview, partly).

The blissful and stressful moments alike made for a dynamic and exciting summer - which is all I was really hoping for. I mentioned in an earlier blog that I wouldn't be able to stand a "comfortable, quiet, and dreadful" summer at home. I certainly managed to avoid that.

As enriching as it was, there's much of Thailand that's left for me to see. I vow to return one day (perhaps a day with fewer global epidemics occurring) to finish what I started. For now, I got enough excitement to last until next summer's adventure.

I'm thinking Alaska, South America, or Costa Rica. Who's in?