friday photo | an elephant hluhluwe-iMfolozi park, sa

I've been thinking lately that the standard advice encouraging people to travel when they're young misses something. I've been thinking that with a little bit of age and life experience, traveling means something deeper to me. I've honed some of my passions and talents - writing, and what I look for and seek out when I travel - that were only just budding when I lived abroad as a student and was still pink with fresh-out-of-college newness. Photography has become a hobby, and I see photos I took then that are out of focus and lacked an eye for composition, and I wistfully think, "If only I could do that again now, a little older, a little less green." But then I read my photo captions on those blurry ones, and they're bursting with uninhibited joy and fervor for life, without a trace of self-doubt, and I feel the happiness on the face of that girl then fall onto the lips 27-year-old me now. And I wouldn't trade having traveled then without what I know now for anything. I should be so lucky to be 21 again, my first time in the world - eyes wide with wonderment and a camera memory card packed to capacity with a shot of every elephant I see.

bylines...

10 best spots for photos in washington, dc 

kyoto's best museums

the complicated topics of happiness + weight + body image

A few weeks ago, I wrote about taking on the Whole30 challenge. Well, that lasted approximately 4.5 days. While on a freelancing assignment in the first week, my lunch options were a sandwich or a sandwich. I chose a sandwich. All morning on the tour I mulled over it, convincing myself I'd just eat the roast beef off of it and drink a bottle of water. The decision of what I could eat of my lunch weighed heavy on mind for five hours. For 5 hours I let food cripple me; I felt guilty for not bringing boiled eggs or something Whole30 approved, and I felt guiltier for what I might eat before I even made the decision. By 2:00pm when lunch arrived, I was too hungry, disliked myself, and to justify that, I said the diet was stupid and who cares, and I ate the whole damn sandwich.

That's not how I want to live. 

Since then, I've been thinking and putting words down on paper and in word documents about my weight, body image, and happiness. Because I know that they're all linked. They're intrinsically linked, reliant on one another, each one a domino effect of the other. Too often the way I wrote it just now is how the dominoes are arranged in my mind: my weight impacts my body image which translates to happy I am (read: not very).

That's a backwards way to live.

I've always secretly struggled with my weight. I've always been a terribly confident person so few people ever know. From the time I was picked out of my first day of Vacation Bible School at age 6 with kids I'd never met to play leading roles in the church's theater group, I've been sure of myself. Beneath that confidence, though, I've always wondered what it would be like to have the kind of body meant for a bikini.

That's really not how I want to live. 

Body dysmorphia is an interesting thing. Usually, those afflicted with it imagine themselves as larger than they really are. I've always pictured myself as smaller. And then I'm shocked when I see pictures that shine a giant spotlight on my less-than-ideally-sized parts. It's self-preservation - when I think I'm smaller than I am, that innate confidence flourishes. I see and feel what I think I look like and can worry a little less about how I actually look.

That's not an authentic way to live. 

And then I moved abroad for the first time. I lost 20 pounds in South Africa, and I came back high from my first deep breath of the world, and I felt new in my skin and pretty. I needed another hit.

When I moved to Japan two years later, I lost another 20 pounds. I ran a mile almost every day, and I took a weekly karate class. I cooked almost every night in my kitchen overlooking mountains and rice fields, and I watched what my body was capable of expand and grow. I didn't try to lose weight in either place; I was the happiest I'd ever been both times, and it showed on the outside and inside. When I left, I felt a strong, unbreakable connection between living abroad and a positive body image.

That's an impossible way to live. 

In the last three years living in DC, back from Japan, I've gained 20 pounds. I don't like pictures of myself. I've gone on the first diets of my entire life - I've tried an "eat like I still live in Japan" diet that failed because that's not my reality. And then there was Whole30 that left me feeling incomplete and crippled, dependent on food instead of invigorated and joyful by it.

I can't live like this. 

My truth is that when I'm happiest, I'm healthiest. When I gain weight, I know that I'm not at my happiest. The things that bring me the most joy are also what keep me the healthiest: being outside, exploring, adventuring, wonderment. My goal for my life is to find the job, the place to live, the career - all those necessary extras - that make me stand in true awe and feel a sense of wonder at something every single day. When that happens my body image and weight will never guide my choices again.

That's how I want to live.

am i happy?

I've been thinking about happiness lately. What makes me happy? In the past year, I've noticed that I have more leveled, even-keeled highs and lower lows. Before that, my highs were out of this world, astronomical, to the moon and back, and my lows were even-keeled, average, ordinary life. Here are the three times I've been my happiest.

Governor's Honors Program 

Growing up in suburban Georgia, I admittedly didn't have the best education in the world. But the one standout was the Governor's Honors Program. It's a six-week program that allows high schoolers to become de facto college students on the campus of Valdosta State University between their junior and senior years. The best part is that if you're accepted, you're there 100% on scholarship. For low-income students like me, it's a total game-changer.

I was nominated in Social Studies. For the first time in my life, I made friends instantly. I took classes on the psychology of serial killers, played a game re-enacting World War I, and studied how political campaigns have evolved over time. I almost didn't go that summer because I needed to serve tables and save my tips to buy a car to get me through senior year. My mom pushed me to attend. My current roommate, Matt, is a GHP friend, as is my running buddy and confidante Whitney.

Studying abroad in South Africa

The story of the first time I left the country and lived abroad is well documented on my "About" page. My best friend of many years "broke up" with me, and it left me more heartbroken than any romantic relationship. I drank the majority of a bottle of tequila and announced to my friends that I was moving to Africa. So I did. I studied in Stellenbosch, South Africa. I couldn't afford it - was working three jobs to stay in school. Somehow I got the scholarships and loans I needed and got into the program I needed to get required credits for graduation. It was my first time going somewhere completely alone. I came back spiritually and emotionally healed and physically healthier than I'd ever been.

Teaching English in Japan 

I didn't love my job (teaching English abroad is often like being a professional broken record), and I had the occasional breakdown. I battled with homesickness - like when I spent Christmas in Thailand. I got sick of Japanese food and the rigidity of the culture. But I traveled endlessly, made forever friends, and realized my passion for travel goes beyond vacations and wish lists - it's what I want to do with my life.

I almost didn't go to Japan. I was working at Ms. magazine in Los Angeles - a dream come true for me! My career was wide open - possibilities in magazines, writing, and publishing felt endless, and I thought I'd lose momentum if I moved abroad. Going is the best decision I've ever made.

So what??? 

I never noticed it before, but these three events fall exactly at big life transitions - high school, college, and post-college. Now I'm 27, and I feel like I'm at another big life transition. I want to choose whatever will recapture more of my joy and fervor for life - because I'm capable of so, so much of it. I'm happy, but I know the best version of myself, and I'm not living it right now. I don't know the answer yet, but I know that getting there, however frustrating the process might be, will be worth it, you know?

I'm happiest when I'm uncomfortable
I'm happiest when I get out of my comfort zone 
I'm happiest when I make deep, lasting friendships
I'm happiest traveling
I'm happiest when forced to rely on myself and show myself that I'm capable 

What makes you happiest? What brings you the most joy?

is south africa safe for tourists?

I have a history of not doing what I'm doing what I'm told. My 5th grade gymnastics coach warned me, "Don't tumble onto the floor mats before practice!" and I cartwheeled into class anyway. My mom has said, "Shhhhh" every five seconds from ages 0-27, and I've never once shut my trap. At 14, my girlfriends hesitantly cautioned me, "Maybe it's not a great idea to meet a guy off the internet?" and so I met two of them and thankfully lived to tell this tale because the internet was a scary place in 1999?

And when I studied abroad in South Africa, my program coordinators, school officials, and every certifiable adult on campus told me sternly, DO NOT RIDE THE TRAINS. 

Well, that was the wrong thing to say. Why not? Why couldn't I ride the trains? They're the cheapest mode of transportation. I wasn't going to rent a car every weekend to go to Cape Town. SO I RODE THE TRAINS. And I lived to tell the tale because maybe South Africa isn't as dangerous as the ubiquitous "they" wanted me to believe, or maybe I was just lucky. Which is it? Is South Africa dangerous for tourists? 

I might have listened if they'd said, "Don't pet the cheetah." Might.

"Crime is high, but the reputation for crime is much higher"

(quoted from CS Monitor) 

More often than not, South Africa is labeled as a murder, assault, and rape hub, and there are two major problems with that generalization: context and modern efforts to curb violence.

South Africa rightfully gained the reputation for being a violent, crime-ridden nation during its tumultuous transition to democracy. Apartheid heavily divided the country in ways too numerous and deep for me to even attempt to explore in one blog post (or a dozen). During that time - the 1980s-90s, crime rates spiked, just as they did during the American Civil War or any armed domestic dispute a nation has ever faced; in some ways, violence paved the way to overthrowing apartheid.

But that has changed. In the last decade, in particular, South Africa has worked to clean up its act. The country ranks below 10 other nations in murders and continues to fall down the list. Guatemala, a burgeoning budget travel destination, ranks above South Africa (sorry for throwing you under the bus, G!).

I'm not offering South Africa a get out of jail free card, though. The country still leads the world in rapes. Shockingly, 1 in 3 South African men admit to having raped at least one woman in their lifetime, and 1 in 4 speak out as a rape victim.

Part of the reason crime has and still is prevalent is due to a history of violence and economic disparity. South Africa is only 20% white, but it has faced white control and domination throughout most of its history. Rebellions and fighting to keep control of land and autonomy have contributed to a national mindset of fighting for survival.

Economically, the 20% white minority rules the country. Townships have developed outside of small AND big "white" cities where the poor, typically black or colored, South Africans live. Resentment and a growing desire for less income disparity between the rich and poor fuels friction within the country.

the scariest thing I saw in South Africa

None of this means that South Africa is too dangerous for tourists. 

South Africa has its problems like any other country in the world. That doesn't mean that you shouldn't visit it. I was told not to ride the trains because I could be pick-pocketed, mugged, or worse. I couldn't and wouldn't live in a bubble of fear, and neither should you. I never once feared for my safety in South Africa, and I traveled from the wealthy town of Stellenbosch to beautiful Cape Town through townships to the poorer KwaZulu-Natal coast into Durban and Kruger National Park and in Johannesburg. I traveled as part of groups and independently, and (always) as a woman.

I spent six months in South Africa, and it wasn't enough time. It's my favorite country in the world. While I can't tell you that your safety is guaranteed there, I can't say that about any country. Even in statistically safe Japan, people have their panties stolen.  

South Africa takes my breath away

Here are a few things I keep in mind no matter where I'm traveling: 

• Stay alert - Take in the sights, journal, explore, take pictures - but keep in mind your surroundings and what's going on around you. 
• Don't flaunt expensive items - put your iPod, iPad, iPhone, wallet, etc. away. Travel like a local - if those who live in the area you're traveling probably don't have those things, then don't advertise that you do. It's safe but also polite. 
• Travel in a group where possible - The best thing about traveling independently is that you're never alone - spend the day with other backpackers and travelers if you question the safety of where you're headed.
• Ride first class - We're not talking Europe or around-the-world flights here; if you're traveling in a developing country, especially independently, consider buying a first-class train or bus ticket. You may feel safer, and the cost difference is usually nominal. 

What travel smartly tips would you add to this list? 

5 {travel} things!

(in rhodes, greece. i live for the chance to jump for joy.)

Mel passed the torch on to me. Here are five {travel} tidbits about me! 

• I was 21 the first time I stepped foot out of the country. It was my senior year in college, and I boarded a jet plane to study abroad in South Africa. Go big or go home.

• I've pooped my pants on two continents. I mean, what can I say? When you go big or go home, you also just go, a lot. (They're both epic  stories. One you've heard, and one involves skinny dipping, bandits in the night, and Cormac McCarthy - it's quite the tale/tail.)

• I'm really outgoing in my every day life and get a lot of my energy from being around other people. But secretly, I'm a closet-introvert who loves reading, writing on my own time, exploring remote places far away from the big cities, and who one day wants a house in the mountains or country near great hikes and beautiful vineyards.

• The first mountain I ever summited was Stellenbosch Mountain in South Africa (I don't count Stone Mountain in Georgia - no way, no how!). I hated outdoorsy things, especially climbing up large hilly things and things that generally involved sweating, and I don't even remember if we really made it to the top. But I do count it as my first foray into hiking. Here's how that first hike went:

• I studied karate in Japan....... with black-belt elementary schoolers. And a few incredible adults. My sensei went with me to be fitted for a gi (women's sizes were too small, men's were too large - I was so awkward there!). She surprised me with having my name inked onto my uniform in kanji - Chinese characters. Culturally, kanji names are treated with reverence and used only for Japanese-born. She translated my name, "Cynthia," as forest, poem, and Japan. It's one of my most treasured memories.

 

Now that I've shared my five things, I want the dirt on Jess, Noe, and Paige!

travel tuesday | cliff jumping in north shore, oahu, hawaii

"Welcome to the United States," the pilot on my flight from Japan boomed as we landed at Oahu International Airport. I welled up with emotion. I'd been gone 365 days, a full year, and I was back in my home country. Without a beat, he continued: "And welcome to Hawaii!" The plane cheered, and I broke into a giant smile that didn't leave my face for days.

After my year in Japan, I came back to the US via Oahu, home of the tanned, laid-back and beautiful Tiffany, one of my closest girlfriends in the JET program. She and her family welcomed me into their home in Waikiki.

Tiff asked me what all I wanted to do while I visited, and I said wanted to experience Hawaii how she does - as a local. So we spent lazy afternoons surfing at her favorite tucked away beach, sang karaoke with her friends, ate mangoes every day from the tree in her front yard, and spent an entire day on the North Shore. My mind is still blown, even typing that.

My favorite part of my visit was undoubtedly seeing North Shore. Legendary for insane surfing in the winter and beautiful beaches, North Shore is breathtaking, relaxing and has a great spot for cliff jumping.

Hi, my name is Cyndi, and I'm a cliff jumping addict. I started in South Africa, where it's called "kloofing." If I know I'm going anywhere near a beach, I research if there are any jumping spots. I'm a total novice.

Tiff took me to "Da big rock" in Waiemea Bay. It's a 30-40 feet jump, and that was the perfect level of gotta-psych-myself-up to do it + thrilling fear. Any more than that, and terror would probably paralyze me. The rock itself is incredibly slippery so it makes for a thrilling climb.

Waiemea Bay is better than any of the Waikiki beaches for relaxing. The crowds look thick on the rock, but we had most of the sand and sunshine to ourselves.

Before I left Japan, I attended lectures and workshops on reverse culture shock. We were reminded of how different it would be to be in our home country after so long away. We were counseled to visualize walking through a grocery store, a bank, and through an average daily routine.

I cheated and went to Hawaii instead. It was the perfect neither here nor there re-entry into the US. Japanese culture is prevalent on the island, so I got my fix of the language, customs and food, while at the same time reintegrating myself into American diet and culture.

The drive out to North Shore stole my heart away, too. I'd go back to Hawaii in a heartbeat. In fact, I think I'd move there. Anyone in Hawaii want to hire me? Special skills: mango devouring, surfboard sitting, sunglasses wearing.

travel further

tofo, mozambique

rehoboth beach, delaware

here's why | blyde river canyon, south africa

There are places I've traveled that I wish I could do over. Have a do-over. Can't we all be granted a few of those? Mostly, that's everywhere and everything I've seen, with few exceptions - like the time everything I had was stolen in Ko Phi Phi or when I threw up for two straight hours on a small fishing boat headed to snorkel with whale sharks in Mozambique (both are wildly embarrassing. Moving on...). But there are some places that with age, developed interests and whatnot, I desperately wish I could transport myself back in an instant and experience it through my eyes now, as the person I am now.



(What am I blathering about? Does anyone ever know?)

Anyway. Today, at least, the blabbering is about the Blyde River Canyon in South Africa. It's one of those places that I'd use one of my three genie in a bottle wishes to get a do-over. It's pretty special.



Blyde River is one of the largest canyons in the world. As I remember my history lesson when I visited back in the ancient year of 2008, it's smaller only than the Grand Canyon here in the US of A and the Fish River Canyon in Namibia. It's vibrant - green with lush growth and made of red sandstone. The river runs through the cracks and crevices, spiraling around towering boulders, and the cliff edges jut out precariously - natural benches on which to take it all in. I mean, no amount of photoshopping could enhance this place or beautify it. It's naturally awe-inspiring, breathtaking and spectacular.





Blyde sits along the so-named Panorama Route, a stretch of land in the southeastern part of the country - near to the city of  Durban and Kruger National Park, dotted with natural landmarks. I made my way to Blyde on an overlanding trip the semester I studied abroad in South Africa. We hit the road running in Cape Town and criss-crossed the country - through Swaziland, down along the coast of KwaZulu-Natal, up through Kruger National Park and back through the Panorama Route. While we pitched tents every night in the abundant campgrounds that dot the countryside, there are hostels, inns and hotels in all of the towns and major cities. To access the destinations along the Route, you need to rent a car or join an organized overlanding tour.



The Canyon and other destinations along the Panorama Route are certainly set up for tourists. They're well-maintained and marked. So few people go, though. You have to want to go there, plan that to be a destination. It has to be purposeful, and not many people make Blyde a purposeful visit. In my humble, modest opinion, that's a HUGE mistake. But, I mean, less crowds and more beauty for us, right?



In the past few years, I've settled into myself, into my hobbies and passions and found this endless, abounding love and deep appreciation for being in and exploring nature. If I could go back to Blyde, I'd spend the most time there I possibly could. Maybe I'd never come back! I'd hike, camp and devour it whole.

This final picture is courtesy of GraniteNet. The other images are my own.

Here's why you should visit Blyde River Canyon:

1. Natural playground (hiker's daydream)


2. On of the three largest canyons in the world


3. Proximity to Kruger National Park, Durban and the rest of the Panorama Route


4. Off the beaten path


5. Spectacular views (photographer's daydream)

If a genie granted you three travel wishes, what would they be?